Unlike Poles | Three
Kiba stares at the young woman gently sipping her coffee across from him, looking for all the world as if she's been trained in the intricacies of holding a simple cup. And she probably has, he reminds himself with a wry smirk.
Looking up, she catches his eye, and a soft smile flickers across her face. "Thank you for the coffee," she says, and he once again wonders why exactly they are both sitting in a café late at night making polite conversation. He should have a girl or two on his arm by this time, but no, he just had to take pity at the gentle boredom evident on Hinata's face and ask if she'd like to grab a non-alcoholic refreshment somewhere less noisy.
"Anything for you, kitten," he responds automatically, a roguish grin tilting his lips when he sees her blush pretty.
But truthfully, this is a first for him. Kiba just doesn't take girls out for coffee or, dare he say it, dates, or even coffee dates. He brings them home and chases them out promptly the next morning no matter how much they shriek at him. He's never once thought of doing that with HInata though—well, not too many times, anyway. Even the thought of it seems like sacrilege to him.
Quiet music, calming ambience, plush armchairs by the glass windows—no, this isn't like his usual hangouts at all. He can't say the same for the girl sitting opposite him though. She fits into the scene so easily that she almost looks like a permanent fixture to him. She seems truly at ease in Kiba's presence for the first time, from the naturally elegant way she sits to the way her eyes glow with interest when he answers a question she asks.
Most of the time, however, it is Kiba who sits back and watches as Hinata speaks. He keeps up a steady flow of questions quite intentionally, if only because he enjoys observing her in her element. She seems to light up with happiness when she speaks of her passions, her friends, her family, and in those moments she is anything but the shy wallflower that he's seen in the club. She has a tendency to gesture with her hands when describing something to him—small gestures, but animated ones all the same—and to purse her lips for a long while when thinking.
It kind of makes him want to kiss her. Not a deep, searing kiss but a quick brush of his lips over hers, just to see her expression when that happens. He has no doubt that it will make him laugh, and he can picture the scene so clearly in his mind that he shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat.
He doesn't even understand half of what she's talking about, but just maybe, he doesn't think he minds learning a little if it means she'll keep looking at him that way.
OoOoO
Their coffee dates are getting just a little too frequent for Kiba's liking, and he's pretty sure he hasn't had more than a glass of alcohol this past week. How can he, when he's spent most nights chaperoning pretty little Miss Hyuga around to different coffee joints while her friends party till late? Not that he's complaining, of course.
It startles him to find that she listens to him with genuine interest and sincerity. She isn't joking when she presses him with subtle insistence for more information about the pipes he's repaired and snotty employers he's worked for. It shouldn't surprise him, really, considering Hinata probably hasn't cracked a joke in her life, but it does anyway. For the first time, he feels valued, not as a mere repairman or a drinking buddy or a bed partner, but as a person, as himself.
Oh, he's going soft alright. It's almost sickening to think about—after all, when has he ever cared about being acknowledged? Well, ever since a certain rich little girl sat at the bar in his line of sight, apparently.
For what it's worth, Hinata seems to be enjoying his company as much as he does hers. Sure, she still squeaks or flushes when the unintentionally lewd or suggestive remarks slip out, but there is a softness to her smile when she sees him now that never used to be there. He might almost believe that she's come to look forward to their coffee dates each night.
All in all, Kiba is happier than he's ever thought he could be without some debauchery in his life.
He doesn't even know what makes him say it, but then again most of his words do seem to slide out of his mouth unfiltered, without first making the requisite trip through his brain. Hinata seems equally surprised, if her tilted head and wide eyes are anything to go by.
"It's just dinner. I mean, it's not going to be fancy or anything, so I understand if you might not want to—" He's cut off by the descent of her hand onto his, the simple motion immediately stilling his tongue.
"I'd love to," she says quietly, an air of finality in her tone despite the volume of her voice.
"Yeah, well, who wouldn't?" But his pleased grin belies the nonchalant air he's affecting, and he takes her hand securely in his. "For now, let's just get you home, kitten."