{ homecoming } that this slight body with its transparent wings
Acquisition of Alex Georgiou had commenced more or less as soon as he arrived in New York and drew himself inevitably to Jemima's attention; she has since come to view it as nothing less than a total success. Presumably this has something to do with why she's waiting, in her swagger-coat and cloche hat, for Alex to pick her up from the apartment on ( Read more... )
Comments 37
What the fuck.
That's all Alex can really think of; he's a junior now, and having arrived in New York after Spring Break the year prior, this is his first Manhattan winter. And it blows. He'd escaped the brunt of the cold by virtue of going on vacation over Christmas to Greece (the family that's still speaking to him - speaking so much as to talk his ear off at every opportunity, really, but he loves his Nana, so he doesn't care), and now that he is back, he's utterly horrified.
He has a jacket but it's more functional than fashionable, no suitable shoes, and is generally a freezing, awkward, island-tanned wreck when he shows up in his silver Audi to pick up Jemima.
"Tell me you are going to save my inept ass from his frigid hell," he says the instant she's in the car.
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The door shuts on Jemima's laughter. "Of course I am!" she promises, fighting briefly with the seatbelt and grinning at him from underneath her hat. "I have a list of places to go, and..." She examines his jacket, and then her list, "...I think we're going to start with a coat. Maybe two coats, but you definitely need one because that has to go."
Somewhere in the middle of flexing those shopping muscles, she kisses him hello on the cheek and puts her hat in her lap. One day she'll tell them all how she masters doing seven different things at once! (Insanity.) "Then shoes. Oh, it's warm in here, this is so nice."
Meanwhile, everybody's favourite future string-puller grew up here and is in her element both with dressing for a Manhattan winter and being given the opportunity to come to the rescue.
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At least he can drive the damn car through frost-slicked streets with no real trouble, unlike some Californians. "Your present's on the back seat, by the way. Did I miss anything?" In.. between now and the text messages they send each other like breathing no matter the continent.
(Her present: several pieces of hand made silver and glass jewelry from the islands and a shawl his aunt made, wrapped in pale blue paper. It's a bit more whimsical than he thinks of her as, but that's just sort of how his family rolls.)
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Present distracts her from her lofty goals like few things can, and she answers him from creatively twisted around the seat in order to swipe her gift and unwrap it while he drives. "I think you're mostly caught up. Oh, Jack owes me an enormous favour or maybe his soul, I haven't decided yet, but he can tell you about that himself."
'He can't offer me his firstborn because I'm probably going to end up having to carry it anyway' is only funny to her.
"These are so pretty," she adds, holding a bracelet up in the light. "I love them. Did you make somebody pick them out for you? I won't tell."
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