The sharp twist of the cold was biting and cruel against her bare face. A dark beanie and thick collared jacket did well to conceal the majority of her from the elements, but not quite enough as her cheeks grew rosy and her breath released in clouds. Her hands were screwed up tightly inside the pockets of her heavy coat and her legs clamped together as if to seal the cold away from her. Sure, it was December, it was going to be cold and she knew that when she left her dorm not too long ago. However, she had neglected to bring her gloves, scarf, handwarmers or even a coffee to dampen the infectious weather that seemed to be swimming through her blood. The wooden bench on which she was sat was cold, damp and snowy. Flakes of white crystal had settled beside her rather peacefully, but she had taken an immediate distaste as she continued to expose herself (rather stupidly) to the freezing temperatures.
She considered on several occasions during the pitiful walk, and current sitting, that she should give up, turn back and go back to her welcoming bed (that certainly wouldn't be teeming with the infectious disease known as Winter). Her exams were not far and she knew that she should at least be reading over notes or something even a modicum more productive instead of punishing herself outside because of one stupid smile from someone she'd barely even spoken to. But some committed, curious and perhaps nosy part of her willed her to stay.
"So this is where all the Party Girls hang out."
Bookstore Guy. She recognised his egotistic-but-somehow-pulls-it-off tone immediately. She looked up at the blue eyes of the tall figure beside her, and accepted that freezing her tits off in the cold was worth it. This was, in fact, the spot she had suggested they meet at when they met the first time - in the college bookstore. As the name suggests, he was working behind the counter when she had entered with her crumpled list of required reading for the semester. A brief and hugely analytical glance at her list and schedule had earned her a comment involving a 'chip on her shoulder' and her knowledge of 'how to party', but instead of pure bewilderment at being examined like a microscope slide, Lisa Cuddy felt just a bit aroused at the brilliance of the man ahead of her. His knowledge of apparently everything from the books she wanted to the classes she was taking, Lisa was astounded by the casual arrogance and intelligence of the Bookstore Guy. So much so, that, when it came time for her to leave with her impressive stack of books, she asked him if he would like to meet up sometime. To which, he replied "Sure thing, Party Pants" with a sly grin that made Lisa feel more than she should.
That landed her here. Now walking alongside the tall man, whom she certainly deemed was older than herself by a few years at least, she could see his features more clearly. His shocking blue eyes maintained contact with her own as they spoke quietly in the darkening, cool air. He was an impressive man. Lisa could feel his brain calculating and navigating every word he was saying as he was speaking, showcasing his fabulous (and slightly intimidating) analytical mind to the max.
They walked under tree cover now, illuminated only slightly by dim streetlights. A comfortable silence probed Lisa to ask a question she was growing more interested in the answer for.
"Why did you agree to come with me?" She asked, an apparent self-doubt manifesting in her words that she really wished he hadn't noticed. Of course he probably had, but he seemed to ignore it as he replied.
"Because I think you're interesting" He said, a hint of a smirk peeking from the collars of his coat.
"Why's that then, Bookstore Boy? Spill" Lisa replied playfully, mirroring him.
"You know what you want and you know how to get it. You want to do well in med school, you took all the hard classes. You want to go out and be a party girl sometimes, you go out and party. You want to investigate the curiously attractive jerk you met at the bookstore, you asked him out on a date." He was smiling properly now, and his steely eyes were plated directly in Lisa's direction. A shocked, perhaps slightly embarrassed look feel upon her face as she decided how to reply to the dramatic insight into her soul.
"I never said this was a date," she countered, playfully and half-heartedly. "You're the one that called it a date." She prodded his chest as she spoke, maintaining the intense eye contact of their conversation. She needed him to know that she wasn't going to give in that easily, though the gentle contact with him appeared to flush her a little.
"You make a good point, Lisa Cuddy." He smiled at her smugly, enjoying her confusion in the moment.
"How do you know my name, bookstore boy?" She asked obviously, though she was secretly pleased that at least some of the curiosity that she bestowed upon him was reflected back at her.
"Because I know everything, Cuddy, and I also know that you like it." She bumped his shoulder hard at the comment, even though it was terrifically accurate, like most things he said, she thought to herself. In response, he wrapped his left arm around her, forcing her shoulder to stay firmly against his. She pretended to struggle out of his grip but failed miserably as she was brought against his warm chest with strong arms. Instinctively, she wrapped her own arms around him and they stayed there for a moment, peaceful and still as the snow continued to fall around them. He looked down at her then with an intensity which she hadn't seen before. He took her and whispered so gently in her ear,
"Let's get you home, Cuddy."