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It's so boring here. I thought maybe living in a house full slayers would be like it was living at the base, someone tracking you down with a task atleast every other day, and spending the remainder of my time cradled in the lap of luxury, doing my hair and painting my nails or whatever. Well this is different. Nobody's around, and here my
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"Oh, Sam! I'm sorry I haven't seen you much. I got..predisposed."
I offered a shy smile, hoping she was in a mood to talk.
From her face, I was afraid I'd lose a limb..or my head.
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"Oh, Sam! I'm sorry I haven't seen you much. I got..predisposed."
I make direct eye contact. Even if he plans on bullshitting me, I don't have any plans to bullshit him. "you don't have to be sorry." He doesn't, doesn't need to be sorry and doesn't need to make excuses. He's got every right to want to bail on me. I probably would.
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Oh dear.. I've made her mad...
Bugger.
"Listen, I'm sorry. But seriously, look at Triffy, she's all better now!"
Considering that I didn't know who Triffy was a week or so ago...
I sighed. Sam probably didn't either.
All my attempts may be futile, but God shoot me for trying.
"Listen, I'll make it up to you. Dinner? Say..about seven-thirty?"
I paused..
"If..that's alright with you? If the time doesn't conflict with anything.."
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"Listen, I'll make it up to you. Dinner? Say..about seven-thirty?"
My dangerous mood dissolves quickly when I find myself invited to...dinner? The word is so attractive to me that I have to blink a few times to digest it. I'm being asked out to dinner. Okay...don't sound to excited...I smile a bit.
"I don't have any alternative plans..."
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