Topic: A First Date

Demeter Ashton

Date: 2016-03-18 08:46 EST
Nicole's Bistro had a wonderful reputation, Demeter had discovered when she had asked around at work. She was genuinely looking forward to visiting the place, though it was not so much to do with the food as it was to do with the company. Twice at work, the receptionists had caught her smiling to herself and were demanding details of the man, woman, or possibly both, that had the so-far-single doctor just a little bit dreamy-eyed. She'd managed to duck those questions, thankfully, but that wouldn't put them off for long. Just long enough, she was hoping, for her to stop feeling butterflies welling in her stomach when she thought about a certain cellist and his rather devastating smile. They'd agreed to meet at the restaurant, but rather than go inside and sit alone when she arrived ridiculously early, she'd chosen to wait outside, hands deep in her pockets as she anticipated Neville's arrival.

Thankfully, the Bistro wasn't far from the Shanachie where Neville worked as a cellist in the pit orchestra. Unlike the actors, the musicians were needed for nearly every show and performance, and it left very little time for much of a social life, but somehow he and Demeter had found a day and time that worked for them both. Neville had never been a very snappy dresser, but he'd managed to dig up a decent pair of pants, a clean, pressed shirt, and a blazer that wasn't too worn out from his closet and get to the Bistro in time for his date. Nervous as he was, he couldn't help but smile when he saw her, waiting for him outside, just as they'd agreed.

She smelt him before she saw him, her head turning to see him as he rounded the corner and came into sight, giving her a glorious view of his smile as he caught sight of her. Her own lips curved in an answering smile. "Hello," she greeted him, surprised at how shy it sounded, especially when compared with the confident way she leaned close to kiss his cheek. "Let's get you inside before those precious fingers freeze up."

He laughed, surprised by the kiss, as innocent as it was, and touched by her concern for his well-being. It wasn't too long a walk from the theater to the bistro, but the air was brisk with a touch of winter lingering. "I like how you're concerned for my fingers," he teased, though it was true that they were his bread and butter.

"Well, I'm more concerned for the man they're attached to, but your fingers are rather important, I gather," she teased him in return, drawing him in through the doors to the warmth of the restaurant. "Were you coming from a rehearsal" I assume you came from the theater, unless you've somehow changed address in the last week."

"Yeah," he replied, as she drew him inside, grateful for the warmth. They were greeted by the smell of Italian cooking, and his stomach grumbled hungrily and noisily in anticipation. "Tempest is playing this week, so it's just rehearsals. Are you fond of Shakespeare?" he asked, fishing for a possible second date.

"I'm ashamed to say I have never seen or read a Shakespeare play," Demeter admitted with a rueful smile, pausing to give her name to the maitre'd for their reservation. "I managed to avoid all the adaptations on Earth, and ....well, I haven't been out since I came back to Rhy'Din. Too busy trying to settle in."

"To be honest, I'm not all that fond of Shakespeare," he admitted, as they were led to their table. "Too many thees and thous for my taste. Maybe a movie instead?" he asked, jumping ahead to their next date, whether it be in a few days or a few weeks. He knew her career was important to her, just as was his, but there was more to life than work. He helped her with her coat and pulled out a chair before claiming one for himself.

She chuckled at his honest reply, glad he wasn't the sort to try and set up a date only to impress her, rather than to enjoy himself. Thanking him as he helped her with her coat and sat her down, she smiled at him. "How about a concert, instead?" she suggested with a faint smile. "There are a few places in Rhy'Din that book quartets and quintets, as I recall. Music to listen to, or music to dance to."

He chuckled at her suggestion, as he settled himself in a chair across the table from her. "I'm not a very good dancer, but I'm willing to learn," he admitted, not one to admit defeat before he'd even tried. "I know this might come as a great shock to you, but I am fond of most music, not just classical," he told her, letting her know he wasn't pretentious or prejudiced when it came to music. He just couldn't wrap his head around Shakespeare was all.

She reeled back teasingly, one hand over her heart. "How will I ever recover from such devastating news?" she laughed softly, settling herself more comfortably in her seat. She'd deliberately chosen not to dress up, sensing that too much would make him uncomfortable, but she hadn't been able to resist the low vee of her sweater. Hopefully the girls weren't going to leap out and say hi at an inconvenient moment. "What do you like to do' I'm curious. You play music and you clearly have a great love for it, but I have no idea what you do to amuse yourself."

He shrugged in answer, for the first time since he'd arrived looking a little nervous. "Nothing very exciting, I'm afraid. No skydiving or anything like that. I don't have a lot of free time, anyway. I like music and movies and I read a lot. Should I dig out my bucket list and see what?s on it?" he asked, smiling back at her.

"We might be able to cross off a few of your buckets, yes," she offered with a quiet chuckle. It hadn't yet occurred to her to even look at the menu, already caught up in Neville. "I read an awful lot, too. I have something of a library at home, and I'm still running out of space." She smiled, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "When the weather warms up, I will have to take you out to the woods and show off a little. I have a bit of an exhibitionist streak when it comes to my tiger."

"Tiger," he echoed quietly and thoughtfully. Despite being a Rhy'Din native, he knew very little about the ways of weretigers and lycanthropes, in general. He knew there were different kinds, but he didn't know which she was, learning slowly as she opened up to him bits at a time. He wondered who the therapist was now. She had assured him he had no need to fear her, and he believed her, but that didn't really explain to him how it worked, as far as she was concerned.

"Yes, I'm a tiger," she confirmed for him with a faint smile. "Small, compared with other tigers. But I was born white, so I was rejected by my pride. The runt of the litter." She chuckled at this description of herself, knowing that it was not a very apt description these days.

He arched a brow, surprised by this revelation. "How did you survive?" he asked, curiously, a look of sympathy on his face and a desire to understand.

Demeter's smile was a little incredulous even as she related the next part of her story; it sounded wildly far-fetched. "A wolf pack took me in," she told him, chuffing a little in amusement. "Maybe they felt sorry for me. Whatever the reason, the Alpha pair chose not to kill me on sight. They raised me, taught me how to hunt, how to be human, and when I was not an amusing curiosity any longer, they sold me."

His brows arched upwards again, as she continued to relate her story, one piece at a time. "Werewolves," he said, more for his own understanding than anything else. "Sold you?" he echoed further, a question in his voice. "What do you mean?"

Before she could elaborate further, they were interrupted by a waitress wanting to know if they had decided on what they wanted to eat and drink. "Oh!" Laughing, Demeter hastily opened the menu, before asking the young woman what she would recommend and ordering that.

Demeter Ashton

Date: 2016-03-18 08:49 EST
He ordered the lasagne, along with a carafe of wine to share between them - nothing too fancy or expensive, but tasty just the same. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he assured her once the waitress had departed, leaving them alone once again.

"It's not that," Demeter assured him. "I was very lucky, in a way. I was sold to raise money so that the pack could build a dwelling on their land, because they'd decided they needed human mates. It's all to do with bloodlines and such. The man who bought me was a good man. He didn't want or need a teenaged weretiger, but he brought me to the city, taught me to read and write. He treated me like a daughter. So when I was sixteen, and his enemies came for him in the night, they never left again." She shook her head, glancing down at her hands. "That was when I went to Earth. I had to get away, before their people came looking for the little girl who had killed their best because they hurt her owner."

It was a lot to take in, even for a Rhy'Din native. Tragic stories were a dime a dozen in Rhy'Din, and she knew very well that he had suffered tragedy of his own, but this wasn't about him or anyone else - it was about her. "What about now?" he asked, lowering his voice. "Are they still looking for you now?" If they were going to go beyond a first date, he needed to know.

She shook her head, smiling faintly. "No, they're not," she assured him softly. "He didn't die, although I didn't know that for a long time. He used the reputation I had given him to gather support and destroy the ones who wanted him gone. Then he sold his business to the first pirate he could find who wanted it, and retired to a cabin outside the city. No one bothers him - weres, because they know my scent, and his human enemies, because they think he's a were." She chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "He does a much better impression of being intimidating than I do."

"Why did he buy you? Who is he" Why does he have enemies?" Neville asked, unsure if he had any right to ask, but unable to stop himself from asking. He had a feeling there was more to her story than she'd told him, but he wasn't sure what it was. "Sorry," he apologized suddenly, dropping his gaze to the table. "I don't mean to pry."

She smiled, reaching out to touch his hand. "I told you to ask, if you had any questions," she reminded him. "I have nothing to hide. He was a pirate, a very successful one, but he had started to venture into merchant shipping, rather than merchant attacking, when he bought me. He never told me why, but he was friends with the pack leaders. I assumed it was a favor to them; his cabin is on their land now, after all."

"And you keep in touch?" he asked, assuming she did, from what she'd told him so far. It seemed the man - whoever he was - was something of a father figure to her, and he couldn't very well deny her that. "I'm just trying to understand."

"I know," she promised gently. "I have a somewhat convoluted history. His name is Roland De Vere, and as far as I know, he was notorious for a while. But he's a good man, and he gave me the skills that I needed. He taught me to be confident in my own skin, to value learning and advancement. I've never called him father, but I visit, from time to time. I have to get permission from the Lycan Alphas to enter their territory when I do, so it isn't very often."

"I see," he said, though he was only just starting to see, starting to understand that he had only seen, only known one layer of this woman. She was so much more than what she'd seemed. She had struggled with things he could only imagine. She had killed to protect a man she thought of as a father. She was as dangerous as she was beautiful, and she could have anyone that she wanted. It still begged the question ....why him' How did he fit into her world" What did she want' What did she hope for" But those were questions he wasn't sure he was ready to ask yet.

She watched him for a long moment, barely aware as the wine was brought to them and poured out. "What are you thinking?" she asked curiously. "You have such an inscrutable expression sometimes, I don't know how you have reacted to what I've said. It makes me nervous. The last thing I want to do is chase you away."

He shrugged, shaking the cobwebs from his head. "It's not every day you find out the woman you ....The woman you care about is, you know ..." Maybe she didn't know. It wasn't the fact that she was a weretiger at all. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around and figure out where I fit in. That's all."

"Where you fit?" Demi considered that for a moment. "Have you ever had a gut instinct about someone?" she asked him thoughtfully. "Have you ever looked someone in the eye for the first time and known they would be a part of your life for years to come" Part of me is a wild thing; I act on my instincts. And my instincts tell me that ....there are now two men for whom I would kill, if I had to, where before there was only one. But you are not a father to me, Neville. There's something more profound between us."

"Yes, I have," he replied, feeling a little hurt that she would ask him such a question knowing about his past the way she did. "Twice, actually." He didn't bother to explain that further. She would know that once had been with his late wife, his Nellie, but he'd said nothing of another. "But I don't want to lose someone else. I don't want to lose you the way I lost ....her. And I need to know, Demeter. I need to know where I fit in."

She cleared her throat, glancing about the restaurant for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. What she had to tell him in answer to his query was not something he would immediately understand, she thought, but it was the only honest answer to his question. It also made her wildly vulnerable to him, and that was a frightening thought.

"You and I have known one another for almost four months now," she said softly. "You have trusted me with more than I ever expected, and in your words, I have discovered a man who touches me in a way I cannot truly describe. Truthfully, I should have stopped being your doctor long before now. I should have stopped when ....when I realized that what I want is also what the wildness in me wants. You are the only man who has ever touched me in this way, and I knew from the first day we met that this is what I wanted ....If you would have me, I would be your mate."

He'd thought of this as a simple date - a first date, a time to get better acquainted and see if there might be something more worth pursuing. Oh, certainly, he had hoped for more. He had been hoping for more for some time. He had laid awake nights thinking about her and struggling with the guilt and the betrayal those thoughts evoked in him, until he'd realized at long last that Nellie was gone and she wasn't coming back. If he ever wanted to find happiness with a woman again, he had to let her go, but to learn that this woman to whom he had opened his heart and soul and told every secret he possessed had felt this way from the beginning was almost too much for him to absorb or understand.

He thumped against the back of his chair, clearly stunned by all that she'd told, but not necessarily in a bad way. "Your mate," he echoed her words once again. Well, he'd asked. He couldn't very well fault her for being honest. "Do you just want me to ....you know ....uh, father your ..." Cubs" Children" What exactly did she want from him?

She dipped her head, hiding the hurt from him at his uninformed question. When she raised her eyes again, all trace of it was hidden away. "A mating is not about children," she told him softly. "Tigers are solitary creatures. Weretigers can spend a lifetime alone, too, but there is always a calling, an urge from the human part of us that needs more than to be self-sufficient. We don't choose mates lightly. A mate is a lifelong companion; a friend, a lover, a protector. A mate is the only being we trust with every part of ourselves. I know it is not how humans do it, but I do know that there cannot be a mating without love."

She considered him, a pained frown touching her face as she looked away, not wanting to see the moment of his rejection. "And I can see how totally scared off you are now, but the door's right there, and it won't hurt my feelings." It was an obvious lie, but offered in kindness, hoping to give him the out he seemed to need.

Demeter Ashton

Date: 2016-03-18 08:56 EST
Her confession surprised him perhaps more than anything else she'd said since they'd met - since they'd made the decision to make their relationship personal, rather than professional. It took him a moment to absorb everything she was trying to tell him and all the implications of it. What exactly was it she was trying to say' She seemed to be giving him a choice, to stay or to go, with nothing in between. It was all happening so fast. How could she be so sure" And then, there was the mention of love. Did he misunderstand her, or was she saying she loved him' He hadn't heard those words from anyone since his Nellie had died. Confusion colored his expression, even as she turned away.

"Love?" he echoed quietly. "Demeter ....Are you in love with me?" he asked her point blank, incredulous, his heart pounding inside his chest, though he wasn't sure why.

Honesty was her greatest strength, and her greatest weakness. She knew she was too honest at times, especially with those whose opinions mattered more to her than she would like to admit. Why did he have to ask her that question, of all the questions he could have asked" If he was feeling cornered or pressured, the answer could hardly help him.

Swallowing, she turned her head back towards him, keeping her eyes lowered for fear of seeing his no in his eyes. "Is it so difficult to believe that I am?" she asked softly. "That I tried not to be, for the sake of your recovery, and I failed" I can't change who I am, and I can't change my heart. I'm in love with you, Neville."

A long moment passed in silence, mostly due to his state of utter shock. He couldn't be hearing her right, could he" She was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met, if not the most beautiful, and she was in love with him' Him' It seemed impossible, and yet, he'd heard it with his own ears. For a moment, he was so stunned, he didn't know what to say. What did you say to something like that' He wished he could tell her he loved her, but he didn't - not yet anyway, but perhaps in time.

"I'm not sure what to say," he started. "I'm not leaving and I'm not saying no, but I need some time. Can you give me some time?"

"I wouldn't have told you if you hadn't asked," she told him quietly, still shy of raising her eyes to meet his. That unsettled uncertainty fluttering in her stomach was a feeling that was wholly new to her; she'd never made herself so vulnerable to a single person before, and she didn't know what happened next. "I would have kept it from you as long as you needed me to. Of course I can give you time."

"But ....why me?" he asked further, not understanding what she saw in him, though he now seemed to understand what she wanted from him. He wished he could say that he loved her. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her, but maybe in time. There was definitely an attraction between them - he wouldn't have asked her to dinner if there wasn't.

She was silent for a long moment. "I don't know if there is an answer to that question," she admitted in a low tone. "If you were a tiger or a wolf, it would never occur to you to ask. But I don't think even humans know why they love someone, do they' They simply do." Her eyes rose to meet his, letting him see how afraid she was of saying the wrong thing. "You let me help you through one of your darkest times. You let me see the worst of you, and I still love you. Does there have to be a why?"

Neville frowned, thoughtfully, thinking back to his marriage to Nellie. He'd never asked why she loved him. He'd never asked where he fit into her life or her world. Why was he asking now" Was it so hard to believe that Demeter loved him' "No, I guess not," he replied. "It's just ....I wasn't expecting it."

"I suppose it's a little more ....elemental, with me," she said, hoping this would help. "I trust my instincts, always. I'm sorry, I never meant to confuse you or complicate things for you." She reached for her glass, taking a healthy swig of the contents. "I don't suppose we could just forget that I said it, could we?"

He was still frowning, not because what she'd said had upset him exactly, but because it had been so sudden and unexpected. "Demeter ..." he started, gentling his voice and reaching for his hand, a soft smile curling his lips. "I'm not saying no. I just need some time to get to know you better. I like you. I like you a lot, or I wouldn't have asked you out. For what it's worth, I'm flattered. More than flattered. I'm flabbergasted, but I'm not gonna walk away. I'd be a damned fool to turn my back on the best thing that's happened to me since ..." He trailed off, not wanting to mention Nellie's name for fear she might take it the wrong way. "You've helped me in ways I can't even describe, and I'm trying hard to rebuild my life and start over, but I need time. That's all. So, let's just see where all this goes, okay' No pressure. No expectations."

Her hand curled into his, the fear in her eyes beginning to fade as he spoke. "I'm not going to run away because you say her name," she told him gently. "I'm not afraid of her, or the love you will always feel for her. There's nothing wrong with remembering." She squeezed gently, trying to help him still. "No expectations. I'll try to behave like a human being for you."

"Just be you. That's all I want," he told her, smiling softly and tangling his fingers with hers. He was sure, given time, he might feel the same way about her that she did about him, but it wasn't going to happen in one night. "So, dinner, drinks, we get to know each other," he said, chuckling as he added, "Or I get to know you ....and we see where it goes from there."

Finally, she smiled, relieved and pleased with the outcome of a conversation that could so easily have ended all her hopes in one fell swoop. "So ....you mentioned you like to read," she said, leaning back as their meals were delivered to them. "I have to admit, I am ever so slightly addicted to the written word myself."

"Any favorite authors?" he asked, with a nod of thanks to the waitress, relieved the conversation had turned again. Small steps, he told himself. Just go slow and see where it goes.

She considered this for a moment, long fingers extracting a mussel from its shell as she thought. "You know, I don't think I do have any favorites," she realized, laughing to herself. "I'll read anything, but just because I like one book by an author, it's no guarantee that I will like another. I've even been known to read self-help books for entertainment."

"No bodice-rippers?" he teased, using a phrase he'd heard coined somewhere for trashy romance novels. He took a sip of his wine, while he waited for her answer. The topic of conversation was a long way from the story of her life, but he was hoping it would make her smile.

Demeter snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes at him. "Well, yes, there may be lurking amid my collection a shelf of thinly disguised porn, but what girl doesn't like a good hunky hero and a glass of wine sometimes?" she defended herself in amusement, relaxing as they eased away from the awkwardness of the former topic. "What about you? What do you enjoy reading?"

Neville chuckled a little at her response. Now that they'd gotten the awkwardness out of the way, maybe they could work on getting to know each other and just enjoying one another's company. He shrugged at her question as he picked up his fork to start on his lasagne. "Oh, nothing in particular. Some history, some sci-fi, some thrillers. Depends on my mood, I guess."

Demeter Ashton

Date: 2016-03-18 08:57 EST
"Well, we have that in common, at least," she smiled faintly, taking a sip of wine to wash down her mouthful. She considered him for a long moment. "What do you do to relax, Neville?" she asked in a curious tone.

"No bodice-rippers," he teased. Whether or not he read Playboy or Penthouse in the privacy of his own apartment, he wouldn't say, but he definitely did not read Harlequin Romances. He'd picked up of his mother's up once when he'd been a teenager and had almost laughed himself silly. "Sleep," he replied with a teasing grin. "Take long walks on the beach?" he added, more question than answer.

"You don't sound certain," she chuckled softly. "I like to run, especially when my mind isn't quiet. Two legs or four, it depends on what I'm running from usually. But if I'm calm, I like to light the fire, curl up by a window, and watch the world going past."

"Running from?" he asked, brows furrowed, sensing there was something there she wasn't telling him, remembering she wasn't entirely human. Once again, he had more questions than answers, but he wasn't sure this was the time or the place, and it seemed she was trying to go slow, for his sake.

Her smile gentled as she tried to explain. "Sometimes, when I get emotional, the tiger in me needs to get out," she told him. "When I'm angry, or deeply troubled by something ....a few hours on four legs can calm me down in a way that I wouldn't be able to find. It's the wildness, I think. The freedom to roam. It doesn't happen often, and I never let myself shift in company."

"That's not something I can share with you," he told her, with just a hint of regret on his face. He wasn't sure if she was the kind of lycanthrope that could change a person with a bite or if all that was just the stuff of horror movies, but she'd said she was born that way, so he assumed not.

"No, it isn't," she agreed gently. "Not unless you choose to, and I won't ask you to make that choice. There's something very disconcerting about spending time on four legs, thinking you should be wearing three bras at once."

He lifted his brows, wondering which comment he should remark on first. She seemed to be hinting at the fact that he could be like her, if he chose to be, but then she was talking about something else, and she'd lost him. "Three bras" I'm not following."

She bit her lip, trying not to giggle as she gestured to herself. "Animals have ....more teats than humans," she tried to explain without snickering softly. "Six, to be precise." Although the mental image of a tiger wearing three lacy bras did for her ability to keep a straight face entirely.

"You mean female animals," he pointed out, smiling a little at that mental image. "Maybe you'll let me meet your tiger side someday," he said, though he didn't think he was ready for that just yet. As for being turned, he definitely wasn't ready for that.

"Well, yeah," she chuckled. "I haven't inspected any boy cats to see if they share that particular characteristic, but I'd assume not." Her smile was bright enough to crinkle her eyes as she looked at him over a forkful of her pasta. "I'd like that," she agreed, knowing her tiger was only too happy to meet him. "When you're ready. Because, you know, I have to get naked first."

He would have liked to have said he was ready already, but they both knew he wasn't. Not yet, but maybe in time. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied with a faintly embarrassed smile.

"Sorry." She offered him an apologetic smile. "Although ....I have to ask ..." She hesitated, and then just plunged straight in. "Did you look me up, after I told you I used to model?" She was curious to know what he thought, whether he liked what he'd seen. After all, if he was interested enough in her to ask her out, then surely he'd done his research.

"Uh ..." He cleared his throat, his face flushing with embarrassment, which was more than enough answer. He knew curiosity killed the cat, but what straight, red-blooded man would be able to resist looking her up" There was no question she was beautiful, but he'd only had to run across one photo of her in a lingerie catalog before giving up, feeling like a teenage boy sneaking a peek at his father's Playboy magazine. There was just something wrong about it, he thought.

Her smile softened at the acute embarrassment on his face. "I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I'm just curious. I wondered if you had, after that first session, but I never had the courage to ask. I know I don't dress all that provocatively these days."

"It didn't seem right to be looking at photos of my therapist in her underwear," he admitted, the blush fading a little. What was it about her that kept doing that to him' "I wish I could return the favor, but I don't look that good in shorts," he teased back, proving he did have a sense of humor.

"No, you probably look much better out of them," she countered, just as teasing as he was. Sadly, now she knew how to make him blush. He was in for a rough ride if he didn't start fighting back a little.

"I'm not so sure about that," he replied, fighting the blush, and picking up his glass for a deep swallow of his wine. "So, um ....Tell me how you ended up becoming a psychiatrist."

She giggled softly, not at all repentant for making him blush and squirm a little more. "Well, I went to Earth when I was sixteen, I told you that," she said, shrugging. "I got lucky; I landed in America, in just the right place and time to be picked up and offered a modeling contract. I was popular, so I worked hard, played harder, earned a silly amount of money before I was twenty, and then realized that I really didn't want to spend my life just being the pretty idiot on someone's arm, parading around in my underwear. I wanted to help people. But I'm too precious to be a nurse, and too honest to be a politician. So I thought I'd try psychology. I had to fit in my learning around work - it took me seven years to get enough credits, and even voluntary work, to qualify as an accredited clinical psychologist. And the second I did, I decided to come home."

"Why?" he asked curiously. "I mean, why did you decide to come home?" He already knew why she'd left, or presumed to know, but why she'd come back was another matter. Had she come back because she wanted to help people here or because she had unfinished business or simply because Rhy'Din was home"

"This is my home," she said simply. "I won't pretend that's the only reason. At least here I'm not at the whims of the lunar cycle. On Earth, every full moon, I can't stop myself from turning, and I can't turn back until the moon is no longer full. It makes for a very disjointed sort of life. But here, where I was born" The moons might call to me, but they don't force me."

"Do you know I've lived here all my life, but I've never personally known anyone who was ....well, what you are," he admitted, apologizing in a way for his ignorance.

"There's no reason why you should have," she told him warmly. "We tend to be a very secretive bunch. You may well have known one or two, but never known they were, if that makes sense. There are a few in the city, but most that I know of make their homes outside the metropolis. When you're partly a wild thing, the wilderness calls to you, I suppose."

"Does it call to you?" he asked, curiously. If they were going to get to know each other - if they were going to be together as a couple - then he needed to know these things. It was possible there were lycans living right under his nose, but it had been a long time since he'd let anyone get close or had gotten close to anyone, so he had no real way of knowing, unless they said so.

Demeter Ashton

Date: 2016-03-18 08:58 EST
"Sometimes," she admitted softly, a faraway look in her eyes. "In the winter, when the snow's fresh fallen and the moon is shining, and the air's so still you could hear a lover's sigh from a mile away ....I can't resist nights like that." Her eyes focused, meeting his with an unconscious invitation in her smile, an unabashed, unguarded moment that was purely her.

This was something that would always keep them apart, always come between them, no matter how much they got to know each other, no matter how close they became. Even if they became lovers, there would always be this difference between them; there would always be things he couldn't experience or understand. "I can't imagine what it must be like," he admitted, for the first time in his life regretting his own humanity.

She held his gaze for a long moment. "There are things you can do and experience that I can't," she told him gently. "For example, I am completely tone deaf. Even if I wanted to, I'll never be able to enjoy music the way you do. I'll never be able to create music. I don't think you realize how wonderful a gift that is."

"You can't enjoy music?" he asked, brows arching upwards. There was another important difference between them. After all, he was a musician - music was one of the most important aspects of his life, and it not only surprised him but disappointed him a little to know it wasn't something they'd be able to share.

"Oh, no, I don't mean that I can't enjoy it," she hurried to try and explain. "I just mean ....well, I'll never be able to play music or to sing in tune. I can enjoy it, as long as I only listen and don't join in. And I do enjoy music ....I'm making a real hash of this, aren't I?"

"Everyone can sing, Demi," he assured her, relieved that he'd misunderstood her. He was tempted to reach across the table and take her hand, but there were two plates and glasses and a carafe of wine separating them. "I think you're doing fine. Getting to learn about each other is half the fun, don't you think?"

"Never ask me to sing," she laughed, shaking her head. "Honestly, I can hit notes that humans were never designed to hear. It's a very good way of ending a house party." Her eyes sparkled as she spoke - at least she could see the funny side in her awful singing voice. "I'm definitely having fun. I hope you are."

"I'm not sure I'd call it fun exactly, but I'm definitely enjoying myself," he told her, lifting his glass for another sip of wine, which was helping to relax his case of nerves. It wasn't everyday he went to dinner with a beautiful woman. "Speaking of fun, we've touched on what you like to do relax. What do you like to do for fun?"

Laughter fading, nonetheless her smile remained as she considered this question. "I like water," she said confidently. "I like to swim in it, I like to splash through it, I like to throw it at people if they're up for it. And I like to cook."

Thankfully, she finally mentioned something they actually seemed to have in common. "I can swim," he told her, with a smile, looking relieved, chuckling at her mention of cooking. "But I'm afraid I'm not a very good cook."

"I could teach you," she offered with a sweet smile, setting her fork down. The pasta was lovely, but the sauce was incredibly rich. She had to be careful not to have too much, or her memory of the food would be tainted by tummy cramps later. "It gets lonely, cooking for one."

"That's probably why I'm not a very good cook," he remarked with a chuckle. He didn't want to mention her name again, but Nellie had done most of the cooking, and though Neville had managed to fend for himself, he wasn't nearly the cook that she'd been.

"Well, you can't start a food fight with only one person, and the tidying up afterward is just depressing," Demeter informed him, almost deadpan but for the quirk of her lips toward a smile. "I'm glad you asked me out. Thank you."

"I don't see much point in cooking for one," he said, alluding to the fact that he ate a lot of takeout. He returned her smile, a little nervously. He didn't want to assume she wanted to see him again, though if she really wanted him to be her mate, it seemed an easy assumption to make. "Did I pass" Do I get a second date?"

"Do you want a second date?" she countered a little impishly. "Because if you want it, it's yours. I'm not sure what we'd do yet, though. Is there anything you can think of that you would like to do with me?"

Besides make mad passionate love to her, he wondered to himself. He knew it was too soon for that, but he flushed at the thought of it. "Go bowling?" he teased, at a loss for ideas. "How about a movie?" he asked, so long as it wasn't Rhy'Din Nights.

"Is the Cineplex still doing those throwback evenings?" she asked, her eyes lighting up. "I love those old MGM movies. The musicals and the straight dramas. The old-time romance, you know?"

"I'm not sure, but we can find out," he said, setting his fork to rest in his plate, as he was about finished with his lasagne. "If not, we could go to my place and something," he suggested, though he didn't want to rush her into a visit.

"If you'd feel comfortable with me there," she qualified, thinking this over, "I could bring the food and we could cook it together. Is that a date, or is it complicated take out?"

"A little of both, maybe," he replied with a chuckle. He would have made another suggestion, but the waitress interrupted as she came over to clear plates and ask if they wanted coffee and dessert.

Giggling, she shook her head to the waitress in answer about dessert. "Just a coffee, please," she requested, glancing curiously to Neville. "That doesn't mean you can't have a dessert. Gentleman or not, you're only paying half the bill, and even then, only if you manage to get to it before I do."

"Make that two," he added, too full to eat another bite, no matter how tempting dessert might be. "I don't think so," he argued. "I asked you out, remember" You can get the next one."

She smiled, conceding the point without a fight. "All right," she agreed. "Next meal out is on me. And no trying to go somewhere ridiculously cheap, either." She waggled a finger at him playfully.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a smirk, thinking she probably knew him too well. "I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here, you know. You know just about everything about me, but I know very little about you, except for what you've told me." Of course, the same could be said for him. She really only knew what he'd shared in therapy.

Laughing softly, she shook her head. "I don't know everything about you," she promised him. "And I wouldn't dream of using what I do know. There's a difference between getting to know someone, and treating someone. I want to get to know you, Neville. I want to know what annoys you, what makes you smile, what makes you roll your eyes. What frustrates you, what motivates you. The way you sound when you're tired, the way you smell after a long day, the way you sleep when you're at peace. I want to know everything. I want you to know everything about me."

"It'll take some time to learn all that, but they say getting to know each other is half the fun," he replied, repeating something he'd said earlier. "You can ask me anything, Demi," he said, shortening her name without thinking much about it. Demeter was far too long and sounded far too formal.

She bit her lip, her smile turning oddly shy. "I don't know what to ask," she admitted almost timidly, glancing up as the waitress brought their coffees over to them. Her eyes flickered to Neville, touched by how comfortable the shorter version of her name sounded on his lips. "I've never really dated."

Demeter Ashton

Date: 2016-03-18 08:58 EST
Strange how she had plenty of questions when he was undergoing therapy, but now that their relationship had turned personal, she seemed at a loss what to say to him. Another thought struck him at her confession. If she'd never dated, did that mean she was a virgin" A beautiful woman like her" It seemed almost impossible. "Never?" he asked quietly, waiting until the waitress departed again.

She shook her head, glancing down at the cup in front of her. "Like I said ....we're a pretty secretive bunch," she explained softly. "I can't help but be honest, and being honest on Earth would have gotten me experimented on. I-I'm not a virgin, I just ....I've never been loved." She shrugged, smiling as she sipped her coffee.

He frowned a little at her confession. How did the saying go' T'was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" Or something like that. He wasn't sure how true that was, but it saddened him that someone as beautiful, as kind, as special as her had never known love. "Maybe we can change that," he told her quietly, thinking she'd be easy to love.

"Maybe." She didn't offer him any pressure to love her; indeed, she didn't seem to even expect it, just hoping quietly that he might someday. With their table cleared of all but their coffees, she could reach across to touch his hand gently. "You're a good man, Neville."

He made no attempt to pull away, glad of her touch, his fingers tangling with hers, a soft smile on his face. "I'm not sure about good, but I'm a simple man," he told her, wondering if she wouldn't find him boring. "You're a beautiful woman, Demeter, and you have a good heart," he told her in return.

"There's nothing wrong with simple," she said, tracing her fingertip over his palm before his fingers tangled with hers. Nellie had been a very lucky woman, Demi knew, to have had this man's love. "This feels awfully serious for a first date all of a sudden," she said then, hoping to avoid the awkwardness that had followed her confession earlier. "Would you like me to walk you home in the dark?"

"Are you going to offer to protect me from the creatures that lurk in the dark?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement. He'd lived in Rhy'Din all his life and he knew the dangers, but had always managed to avoid them.

She laughed, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. "Maybe I should wear a collar and leash so you can walk me," she teased mischievously, far too independent a character to ever submit quite that much.

"I've learned to take a few precautions," he said, though he did not say what those precautions were. "Do you want to go back to my place for a while?" he asked. "I'm not completely helpless. I can make a half-way decent cup of coffee."

Oh, how much she wanted to say yes. She couldn't silence her own inner psychologist, however, who was giving her some good advice. With a regretful smile, Demi squeezed his hand gently. "I think that might be a step too far for our first date," she said softly. "It isn't that I don't want to. But this is a first for both of us in more ways than one. I don't think we'll do any harm by taking our time."

"Fair enough," he replied, not wanting to push her on their first date. He wasn't sure he was ready for the evening to end, but maybe it was better this way - leave them something to look forward to next time. "So, when can I see you again?"

"Tomorrow?" she suggested, a soft touch of color at her cheeks giving away a tender blush at the fact that he had asked when he could see her again. "I rarely work in the evenings or at weekends, unless there's an emergency. And I'm more than happy to work around your schedule."

"Tomorrow it is, then," he told her, lifting her hand and pressing it to his lips. He wasn't sure why, but it just seemed the thing to do. He'd never considered himself much of a gentleman before, but it seemed she saw something in him he wasn't aware of.

It seemed he'd found the switch that turned Demeter Forster from confident woman into giggling teenager, but that was not a bad thing. There was no way to disguise her blush as she laughed softly at the gentlemanly gesture. "Suddenly I'm the one feeling underdressed."

"Sorry, it's been a long time since I've been on a date," he admitted, though he wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but she didn't seem to mind the kiss.

"Don't be sorry," she assured him, squeezing his hand. "You've been on more dates than I have, after all. You're the experienced one." Her smile was gentle as she said this, knowing it had the potential to poke at a sore spot.

"Not really," he replied with a chuckle. He hadn't really dated much before marrying Nellie, but she knew all that already and he didn't really want to talk about it. He didn't want Nellie to become the sore spot between them. As much as he'd loved her, she was part of his past now, and he was trying hard to move on.

"All right, then, tell me this," she challenged him, setting her cup down once again. "Is it appropriate to kiss on the first date?" Brown eyes twinkled at him, daring an honest answer from him.

"We're both adults, Demi," Neville pointed out. "I think we're old enough to decide for ourselves what we think is appropriate and what isn't," he said, not really answering her question. He took a sip of his coffee, not really looking like he was in any big hurry to leave.

"Mmm, very sneaky," she chuffed her soft laugh. "I like it." Glancing outside, she bit her lip. She wasn't really ready for the date to end, but at the same time, she didn't really like the formality of sitting at a dinner table just to talk. "Would you like to walk with me for a while?"

"If you like, sure," he replied, a soft smile on his face. There wasn't much he'd deny where she was concerned, though he was trying to take things slow.

"Shall we, then?" she asked, trying to keep things at his pace, despite the part of her that really would like to take him home and do carnal things to him all night. That was definitely not taking things slowly.

"Sure," he said, waving to the waitress for the bill. Once that was taken care of, he moved to his feet to help her with her chair and her coat once again, ever the gentleman, even if he didn't realize it.

Whether he knew it or not, he was a gentleman, and in Demi's world, they were a dying breed. Every mannerism was touching in its way, and she found herself wanting to impress him with homely skills - like cooking. Outside the restaurant, she shyly curled her arm through his as they walked, surprised by how comfortable it was.

For the first time since Nellie had died, Neville found himself feeling happy and without grief, his memories of Nellie safe in his heart, but no longer causing him pain or regret. He knew it wasn't just the therapy that had helped him heal, but the knowledge that he didn't have to be lonely, that he didn't have to spend the rest of his life alone. "Can I ask you something?" he said, as they walked arm-in-arm, a little afraid to ask her, but needing to know.

Demeter Ashton

Date: 2016-03-18 08:59 EST
Despite the chill in the air, Demi could honestly say she hadn't felt this happy before herself. She knew she probably wasn't what he might have envisioned for his future, but she hoped she would be a part of it. Looking up at him as he ventured a query, she blinked, her smile quirking her lips once more. "Of course," she assured him. "You can ask me anything."

He frowned a little, worried she'd take his question the wrong way, but needing an answer. "It's about Nellie," he said, forewarning her before going on. "Are you okay with me having been married before" I mean, I've had some time to think about it, and I don't think she would have wanted me to be alone. She would have wanted me to be happy."

"Why would I begrudge you having loved and been loved before now?" she asked him in return. "Only someone truly selfish could possibly do that, and I've always understood that loving someone is one of the most unselfish things a person can do." She hugged him arm as they walked along. "I may feel a little ....unsettled" I'm not sure that's the right word. Without her death, we would never have met. I don't want you to feel that you have to pretend you never loved her, or that you don't love her still. I know you always will. I'll never begrudge her presence in your life, Neville."

"I don't want her ....her ghost to come between us," he said, speaking figuratively, as he'd never seen her ghost and hoped she had gone to a better place, not lingered here. He felt a little awkward talking about it, now that he wasn't Demeter's patient anymore, but he needed to be honest. "I won't lie to you. Some part of me will always love Nellie, but she's gone now. She's part of the past, and I need ....I want to move on. I want to start over." He sighed, coming to a halt and turning to face her. "I don't want to be alone anymore, Demi," he told her. Though he sometimes felt guilty that he was still alive while Nellie was not, their vows had been 'til death do us part, and it was death that had parted them.

Looking up at him, Demi could see the sincerity and confusion in his eyes, wishing she could set his mind at rest. "I don't want to replace her, Neville," she told him, her hand rising to gently touch his cheek. "No one should ever replace her. She's a large part of what makes you the man you are. You should never forget her. But that doesn't mean you have to be alone. You never have to be alone, if ....if you decide to keep me."

"You're not a possession to be kept. You're a woman who deserves to be loved. I hope someday I can be worthy of that love," he told her quietly, knowing she had already offered him her heart. It would take more than one date for him to offer the same, but he was hopeful he would share her feelings in time.

Her palm warmed his cheek as she looked into his eyes. "You don't need to be anything but what you are," she told him, her voice barely more than a whisper. "You don't have to love me, Neville. But I'll love you, for as long as you need me."

He frowned thoughtfully at her, a little bit sad that he couldn't return her love - not yet - but if things kept going the way they were going, he was sure it would happen before long. Rather than tell her that in so many words, he touched her cheek, letting his fingers move into her hair, his heart thumping in his chest. It had been a long time since he'd been this close to a woman, and he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Would her lips feel as soft as they looked" There was only one way to find out, and then, he was touching his lips to hers in a slow, lingering kiss, savoring the sweetness of that first taste, that first tender touch.

It wasn't her first kiss, but there was something truly unforgettable about it. Aware of his heart beating as fast as hers, aware of his scent, the way his fingers felt in her hair ....Aware of every nuance even before his lips touched hers, Demi rose to that kiss with a sweetness not even she had ever suspected herself of having. She didn't push for more than he was ready to give, shocked to her core by how powerful a single kiss could be, given by the right person.

He, too, was surprised by the intensity of that kiss or, more accurately, by the intensity of the feelings that kiss evoked in him. He sensed a certain passion in that kiss, but more importantly, there was a tenderness and a sweetness in it he hadn't expected, and it set his heart on fire with longing.

Drawing back, Demi could feel herself trembling as her eyes opened, her gaze seeking out his, needing to know if she was the only one who suddenly felt as though the world had narrowed down to this one moment, these two heartbeats. "Goodness ..."

From the look on his face and the soft sigh of breath, it seemed she wasn't alone in that feeling. He had felt it once before, of course, but even so, it surprised him to find he was feeling it again. They say lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place, and true love only comes once in a lifetime, but Neville was starting to think that wasn't true. It was too soon to tell, but he was starting to think that perhaps true love had found him not once, but twice.

And why shouldn't it' Life didn't stop just because loss happened; his heart hadn't stopped beating in his grief. He'd come out of it stronger than he'd gone in, and he knew himself better than to think he was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life. Perhaps it was time to start believing that. Perhaps it was time to start living again.