You realize that's like asking a giraffe not to drink, right.
[A world where Tony Carter is 100% sober... Hasn't been seen in 14 years and it's still out to "pick up scratchers at the corner store". Christ. He doesn't even want to think about all the...things he'd think about if he stopped drinking. He's made a mastery of avoiding taking an long and/or hard looks at his life.
That said he does offer his arm to her like the...not exactly a gentleman he is.]
Though that does bring up the stirring question: do I get any of your stalker photos? Just asking. For curiosity's sake. Cat made me do it.
[She slips her arm through his, though. She tugs out her cell phone, skims through it, and offers it to him.]
But you can look at them, if you'd like, as a reward for what a lovely surprise this was.
[There's two pictures, in fact. The first isn't so interesting; it's her in her lab, her head bent as she peers at something. The photo is blurry; the only reason you can tell it's her is because of the flash of red hair.
The second, however, will be of far more interest to Tony. It's Rosalind at her BMW at the end of the night, her books in her arms and her keys clenched between her teeth. It's also a lovely shot of her legs, which is why Tony is only getting a look, not the photo proper.]
[Praise tech nerds with far too much time on their hands. He studies the photo as he leads her out. Looks from it to her...and not even subtly leans back to check out said legs.]
Have I ever mentioned you're too good to me? I feel like that's a thing that doesn't come up enough. Also. Next time. These heels: wanna see 'em.
And you see this is why we would be the best People scandal. You like to troll me. And I...come running like Pavlov's dog. Perfect celebrity trainwreck.
[He's just saying. Could be fun. He will guide her back down the stairs and out to their waiting limo though.]
Your place?
[He is assuming; he has yet to have an acceptance of a nightcap at Chez Carter.]
You ever want to get a midlife crisis out you know where to find me.
[Because. Obviously that is not what today was about, feelings. This was just a nice date between friends. But he will hand her into the limo, following after and direct the driver to her place. See her to the door because why not and so forth.]
I'll text you about access for that room. [And— he taps his hand against his thigh.] You looked nice tonight. Keep your head up, Rosalind.
[With a wave he'll head back to the limo to be on his way unless she has some parting volleys she wants to get off. Not so bad an end to the evening. Gotta be some kind of points in that?]
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[A world where Tony Carter is 100% sober... Hasn't been seen in 14 years and it's still out to "pick up scratchers at the corner store". Christ. He doesn't even want to think about all the...things he'd think about if he stopped drinking. He's made a mastery of avoiding taking an long and/or hard looks at his life.
That said he does offer his arm to her like the...not exactly a gentleman he is.]
Though that does bring up the stirring question: do I get any of your stalker photos? Just asking. For curiosity's sake. Cat made me do it.
no subject
[She slips her arm through his, though. She tugs out her cell phone, skims through it, and offers it to him.]
But you can look at them, if you'd like, as a reward for what a lovely surprise this was.
[There's two pictures, in fact. The first isn't so interesting; it's her in her lab, her head bent as she peers at something. The photo is blurry; the only reason you can tell it's her is because of the flash of red hair.
The second, however, will be of far more interest to Tony. It's Rosalind at her BMW at the end of the night, her books in her arms and her keys clenched between her teeth. It's also a lovely shot of her legs, which is why Tony is only getting a look, not the photo proper.]
no subject
Have I ever mentioned you're too good to me? I feel like that's a thing that doesn't come up enough. Also. Next time. These heels: wanna see 'em.
no subject
[But likely not for a while, now that she's said it, because Rosalind can be stubborn about not doing something simply because someone wants her to.]
no subject
[He's just saying. Could be fun. He will guide her back down the stairs and out to their waiting limo though.]
Your place?
[He is assuming; he has yet to have an acceptance of a nightcap at Chez Carter.]
no subject
[Someday, perhaps, she'll accept another drink at his house, but even then, all it will mean is a drink, nothing more.]
no subject
[Because. Obviously that is not what today was about, feelings. This was just a nice date between friends. But he will hand her into the limo, following after and direct the driver to her place. See her to the door because why not and so forth.]
I'll text you about access for that room. [And— he taps his hand against his thigh.] You looked nice tonight. Keep your head up, Rosalind.
[With a wave he'll head back to the limo to be on his way unless she has some parting volleys she wants to get off. Not so bad an end to the evening. Gotta be some kind of points in that?]