Thanks so much for your kind words on my last chapter :) I was worried that they're a little ooc as they're not really the focus in EAH, which is like my nightmare actually lol. This chapter is shorter, because I was originally going to end it this week, but I decided to switch it up and divide it into two chapters, so it's like half the size of last week's update ^-^ this chapter is all about the Sparchess date, and next chapter will be the finale!
.
.
.
.
Faybelle is grossly interested in Poppy O' Hair, which means that Duchess finds herself best-friend-less most of the time. Essentially, Faybelle lives on her phone now and she's only known O' Hair for a damn day, and is less than sympathetic to Duchess's problem of the impending Sparrow date.
"Did you know Poppy has a twin? She's cuter than the twin, but still. Look at her Instagram page, she took pictures of that pet grooming business she started!"
Duchess spares Faybelle's phone a glance, but she's also rifling through her closet at the same time. "That's picture's from two years ago, Faybelle!"
"I'm not ashamed." Faybelle sits down on Duchess's bed (Lizzie is, thankfully, notably absent, though Duchess knows that on account of having memorized Lizzie's work schedule). Crossing one leg over the other, she states, "Social media stalking is important in every relationship."
"Oh, there's a relationship now?" Duchess grouches.
"Let me be optimistic, Swan," Faybelle counters.
"You're never optimistic!"
"Lay off." Faybelle clicks out of Poppy's Instagram. "Have you stalked Sparrow's social media accounts?"
"No, because there will definitely not be a relationship with him in my future." Duchess picks out a dress that has capped sleeves, a lacy top, and a flowery skirt. "What do you think?"
"To go on a date with someone you don't want to date? It's adequate. It also looks like you've put too much thought into picking out something nice."
"I have not!" Duchess implores, and decides that the dress is, borrowing Faybelle's word, adequate. "I'm going to be back soon. So don't do anything rash. And don't invite anyone over, because Lizzie doesn't even know that you're here, meaning she definitely won't appreciate a stranger."
"Are you really sure you'll be back soon? Because I know how first dates go with guys. They try to act like actual human beings and then the next thing you know you're making out in the parking lot of an Applebee's and his hand's up your-"
"Okay," Duchess cuts her off, cringing, "I'm going to change! And leave!"
Faybelle shrugs. "Just being realistic."
"You're not."
Duchess is ready to leave in another hour, with her hair pulled into a half-ponytail, the dress ironed and put on, with a pair of kitten heels that seem functional enough; they're cream colored with little bows on the toes. The problem is, though, that she does not know where she and Sparrow are even going on this godforsaken date and she worries about being either underdressed or overdressed (though, thinking of Sparrow, it may be the latter).
Sparrow's car turns out to be a truck, a truck that is old and green and she would've winced if she hadn't been making an effort to be nicer. Instead, she fakes a polite smile when she sees him, leaning against the passenger side of the car, hands behind his back, still with a hat on his head (though it's black and matches his pants, which she figures is alright-ish).
"Hello," Duchess cautiously says, avoiding looking at Sparrow and instead stares at his shirt, which is a button up but is also patterned in black and white symbols she doesn't recognize. It's acceptable enough, if not odd.
"Hey." And he presents her with a lily, which was behind his back.
Duchess takes it, surprised, and runs her fingers over the stem and its petals. "Oh- thank you."
Sparrow opens the door for her next, gesturing towards the seat. "Ladies first."
Duchess sits, a little stunned. He's meeting her high criteria for her own Prince Charming, whether he realizes this or not. His car is cleaner than she expected, and it smells like leather thanks to a hanging air freshener.
Which is a very bad thing.
...she can't like him. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Not even in a friendly way.
Because Sparrow Hood is the furthest thing possible from Prince Charming, but he's acting too nice. And actually interested and invested in this joke of a date.
Duchess buckles her seatbelt around the time Sparrow turns the key in the ignition.
"Where are we going?" she asks, suspicious.
"It's a surprise," Sparrow answers, and there's a secretive smirk on his face Duchess wants to smack off. But she doesn't, of course. She stays silent and subdued and doesn't complain even though she can't recognize any of the streets they're driving through and figures that as long as he's not driving them to a shady teenager-infested hillside makeout spot it'll be fine.
But, they end up parked outside of a roller rink. Duchess, while graceful en pointe and in dance, has never done well on wheels and she's certainly not dressed for it, which she tells Sparrow once he opens her passenger door for her (unnecessarily, but she does appreciate it nonetheless, though it's a thought she squashes down immediately). His response, however, is less than satisfactory because they still end up walking towards the rink.
"You're not serious, are you?" Duchess asks, the second they're inside and he's paying for rental skates.
"Oh, I'm completely serious." Waggling his eyebrows, he gestures for her to pick a pair of skates.
Duchess ends up cladding her feet in garish electric purple roller skates that look as if they've been used by at least a thousand other people, and Sparrow puts on a pair of terrible neon green ones. Duchess tries to take a step and realizes that she's terribly uncoordinated in skates, and almost falls over, except Sparrow grabs onto her forearms to stop her from doing just that.
"This isn't funny," Duchess hisses as Sparrow lets out a laugh, and she's now certain that a roller rink falls under a 'classless, tasteless' date category.
"Relax, Princess." Sparrow's hands help her glide all the way to the actual rink. "If it makes you feel better, I won't let go of you the entire time."
Duchess narrows her eyes. "You're not allowed to do that."
"Alright, alright, can't blame a guy for trying. I guess I'll just let go of you then," Sparrow smirks, and then Duchess no longer feels his hands gripping her and then she's rushing forward in the skates, practically gliding with no means of stop, a terrified squeal coming out of her mouth in an undignified manner.
Before she can crash into two third-graders, Duchess feels Sparrow's hand slip into hers and notices that he's not wearing tacky fingerless gloves, actually, as he seems to favor outside of Target, and then he's pulling her towards the side of the rink, actually being very helpful about the whole situation.
But Duchess tries not to linger on the fact that holding his hand is actually sort of nice, because she's trying to actively find fault in the date.
"This is-" Duchess huffs, trying to stay balanced and trying not to tip over, "-this is a waste of time."
"That's because you've never tried it," Sparrow says, and his hand closes tighter on hers. "Is Target's best employee actually bad at roller-skating?"
"Working at Target and being good at roller-skating have no correlation." Glaring, Duchess barely manages to pull her hand away from Sparrow's and try to take a step or two of her own, which doesn't work, as she slips and almost falls.
Almost.
Sparrow's arms catch her because she does, and she's a mess of splayed limbs and his laugh, she can hear his laugh in her ear and her hair is pressed against his neck and she almost laughs, too, but she catches herself before she can, instead giving out a huffy breath that signifies her annoyance. Which, she thinks, is good enough.
It takes a few trips around the rink (Sparrow holding onto Duchess's hand and Duchess decidedly not looking him in the face lest he catch something resembling a blush) before they finally return the skates and Sparrow takes her out of the rink, not holding her hand but his fingers brushing against hers in a way that makes her jumpy and anxious.
"This was a terrible date," Duchess tells him as she steps over a crack in the pavement towards his truck.
"What, is roller skating that bad?" Sparrow grins, and Duchess notices that the setting sun's orange hues clash with his head and his dumb goatee and she almost laughs at the scenery of that.
"It is," Duchess says, fingers skirting down her dress, "Because I'm not dressed for it." She ducks her head to avoid a new and sudden bout of shyness that she feels around him, which, of course, is unnecessary. She still doesn't like him.
Sparrow shrugs, strolling by her like he has all the time in the world. "I'd say this date's not over yet."
"Oh, you say it's not over yet," Duchess voices her disdain. "I think I have a say in the matter, and-"
"Let's get coffee. Nothing fancy, unless you're hungry," Sparrow interjects, smirk on his face. "Do me a favor and ease up a little bit, Princess. I'm trying to get you to like me here."
Duchess actually does blush at that. "Well I won't," she says, but she lets Sparrow open up the car door for her.
Because, well- she can.
(and, as it turns out, he picks a rather lovely café with eccentric decor and a delicious amount of teas in addition to the coffee)
"The Wonderland Haberdashery and Tea Shop," Duchess says, reciting the cafe's name with a small smile on her face as she sips on their appropriately named charmed chai tea, because it tastes as if it's made of magic and ought to be illegal with how good it was. Honestly, Duchess was addicted to Hocus Latte's white chocolate iced cappuccinos, but the chai tea was a recommendation of none other than Blondie Lockes, blogger/vlogger with the penchant for finding things that were just right on all upcoming restaurants' menus, and while Duchess swore she never kept up with Just Right she did know that Blondie had the right idea about the tea. Spiced, but gentle, and so good.
"Yeah, the name's a little long," Sparrow notices, grinning as he puts too many sugar cubes into his coffee.
"I'm surprised you wouldn't run at the sight of such long words on the sign." Duchess challenges him with those words, mainly because an engaging battle of witty banter is surely the distraction she needs to get her mind off the fact that she can't quite look Sparrow in the eye, though she also refuses to think it's because she's been holding his hand. And she's trying to ignore how close he is, seated in the tiny table that barely fits one chair, let alone two.
"Nope." Sparrow's grin is wide as he surveys Duchess unabashedly, which she's upset about. "You're not going to psych me out here. I know what a haberdashery is."
"Oh, really?" Duchess counters, and a smile starts to grown on her face. "Enlighten me then."
"It's a place where they-" Sparrow actually looks lost for words, much to Duchess's content. "They grow horseradishes."
"Wrong," Duchess trills, oh-so-happy with the fact. "Traditionally, a haberdashery is an establishment associated with men's clothing, more specifically, s-"
"No, no, no," Sparrow cuts her off then, waving the sugar cube tongs. "I'm not here for a history lesson. That's off-limits."
Duchess, irritated at having been interrupted, snidely responds, "That's because you're uneducated."
"And you're boring," Sparrow decides. "It's summer. You're not allowed to start thinking about school stuff."
"A haberdashery is not-"
"Give it a rest, eh, Princess?" And Sparrow's grin is back. "You're not a teacher or anything. Unless you're into roleplaying. Because then I'd be open to-"
Duchess flicks a sugar cube onto his lap to avoid his continuation of stupid words. "You're incorrigible."
It's late by the time they return to the apartment building. Duchess unbuckled her seatbelt and let Sparrow open the car door for her, but that's the extent of the romantic advances she'll allow, even if he insists on walking her to the door of her apartment, which is, frankly, unnecessary.
He does it anyway, though.
The elevator ride up, Duchess pretends to listen to Sparrow talking about music. She actually doesn't care for the music he listens to, which involves heavy electric guitar and no form of piano. The second the elevator doors open and she's made one too many comments on how 'interesting' his music choices are, Duchess all but sprints towards her apartment door.
Key in her fingers, Duchess gracefully faces Sparrow and notes, "Thank you for the lovely evening." Social graces required it, of course, and as fed up as she is with his childishness and his subpar taste in music, she has to admit that today has not been all bad. She experienced the oddest sensation of fondness when she recalls Sparrow's hands holding her own, not that she'll ever admit it to anyone but herself. And especially not Faybelle.
"No need for formality, Princess." Sparrow is leaning against the wall next to her door, with that ever-present bright grin, though it's more subdued. And Duchess notices, truly, how close he is to her and how he's suddenly too close, so that she's staring into his eyes and realizing how lovely they are and that his knuckles are grazing her cheek.
Duchess's breath catches in her throat. "What are you-"
"I'm going to kiss you now."
And he does. His lips are soft and move against hers slowly, so slowly, like he's coaxing her to kiss him back. Which, Duchess realizes, he probably is, but she's so shocked that she can't comprehend it all and it's her coworker, and worse than that, a musician, kissing her and she doesn't even like him but she won't admit that it's nice, sort of, and her eyes close almost out of instinct and then the calloused pads of his fingertips are brushing against the skin of her neck to bring her closer, fingers tangled in her thick hair, and Duchess finally kisses him back, but only for a second.
She breaks away from him first, and stares. She stares for such a long time. "I- I don't think-"
Sparrow shuts her up with another kiss, and this time, it's rushed and long and she draws herself up on her tiptoes to get closer to him and then his arms rest on her waist and her arms are thrown around his neck and they're both sort of leaning against the door of her apartment trying not to make noise but failing.
But, Duchess resolves when Sparrow's tongue nudges past her lips, this wouldn't ruin their work relationship.