cookie crumb
I got bored in work yesterday and this got written. I think it's cute...
(disclaimer: still not mine)
Drop of a Hat
Lavender always said he fell in love at the drop of a hat. A very unfair statement, at least as far to Seamus' mind, but the fact remained that they'd been out of school for two years and he'd gone through seven significant others and a good dozen short flings. And every time he met someone knew he'd come to her with the same story. The particulars would be different - they'd met at a pub, at the movies, in a shop - but it was always the same. He'd be charming, they'd be sweet, one date would lead to many, and soon Lav would get the call. "I think I'm in love." It came to be that Lavender dreaded those words.
She wanted him to be happy, she really did, but he fell so easily and so often. "This one is different. This time it's real." And she hated seeing him hurt when it turned out that this one was just like all the others.
***
Seamus fell in love at the drop of a hat, but he never thought that was a literal statement. Certainly there was nothing inherently romantic or even flirtatious about a dropped hat. It wasn't like a handkerchief or a glove, something you could hold onto and moon over until you got to return it. No, it was just a hat. A baseball cap, to be exact.
And it wasn't actually dropped either, so much as blown off by the wind of the subway leaving precisely on time, as Seamus dashed down the stairs, almost a minute too late.
An inarticulate shout, out of practice Chaser reflexes, and a piece of wayward headgear. Not a very romantic start to a story.
***
"Thank you for catching my hat." There was something familiar about the voice.
"Not a problem," Seamus said, looking up at the tall black man coming towards him. His hair cut short, his clothes immaculate and highly flattering, the smile on his face slowly fading as he gazed down at the young Irish man.
"Seamus?"
That voice, saying his name, finally triggered his memory. "Oh my god. Dean?" A grin broke across Seamus' face. "What are you doing here? I thought you went to some fancy art school in America."
"I did, but I came back. God, it's good to see you." An answering grin appeared on Dean's face and Seamus was momentarily startled by its brightness.
"What are you doing today?" he asked. "Whatever it is, cancel it."
Dean laughed. "Actually I have no plans. But what about you? The way you were running for that train it looked like you were late for something."
Seamus glanced at his watch. "I am. I was. Doesn't matter now. You and me are going to the caf
(disclaimer: still not mine)
Drop of a Hat
Lavender always said he fell in love at the drop of a hat. A very unfair statement, at least as far to Seamus' mind, but the fact remained that they'd been out of school for two years and he'd gone through seven significant others and a good dozen short flings. And every time he met someone knew he'd come to her with the same story. The particulars would be different - they'd met at a pub, at the movies, in a shop - but it was always the same. He'd be charming, they'd be sweet, one date would lead to many, and soon Lav would get the call. "I think I'm in love." It came to be that Lavender dreaded those words.
She wanted him to be happy, she really did, but he fell so easily and so often. "This one is different. This time it's real." And she hated seeing him hurt when it turned out that this one was just like all the others.
***
Seamus fell in love at the drop of a hat, but he never thought that was a literal statement. Certainly there was nothing inherently romantic or even flirtatious about a dropped hat. It wasn't like a handkerchief or a glove, something you could hold onto and moon over until you got to return it. No, it was just a hat. A baseball cap, to be exact.
And it wasn't actually dropped either, so much as blown off by the wind of the subway leaving precisely on time, as Seamus dashed down the stairs, almost a minute too late.
An inarticulate shout, out of practice Chaser reflexes, and a piece of wayward headgear. Not a very romantic start to a story.
***
"Thank you for catching my hat." There was something familiar about the voice.
"Not a problem," Seamus said, looking up at the tall black man coming towards him. His hair cut short, his clothes immaculate and highly flattering, the smile on his face slowly fading as he gazed down at the young Irish man.
"Seamus?"
That voice, saying his name, finally triggered his memory. "Oh my god. Dean?" A grin broke across Seamus' face. "What are you doing here? I thought you went to some fancy art school in America."
"I did, but I came back. God, it's good to see you." An answering grin appeared on Dean's face and Seamus was momentarily startled by its brightness.
"What are you doing today?" he asked. "Whatever it is, cancel it."
Dean laughed. "Actually I have no plans. But what about you? The way you were running for that train it looked like you were late for something."
Seamus glanced at his watch. "I am. I was. Doesn't matter now. You and me are going to the caf