Only a bit. He's not used to fussing over his appearance like it matters; it takes longer than he expected to tame his curls, and smooth most of the wrinkles out of his clothes. (He's accumulated more than the outfit he turned up in, by now, but - well, he wants to feel as much like himself as he can, with her.)
Then he has to find the cafe. He hasn't actually roamed the Up very much, because it means having to put his collar on. (Its sheer existence is bad enough, but of course it's a very particular shade of purple.) So that's a little more wasted time, that he can't even track properly because the city is still blurring his senses.
By the time he stomps inside, he's deeply aggravated - with himself, with Duplicity, with Time itself. With River for pretending she didn't know him, for getting ensnared by this hideous place and making him feel even more helpless.
It melts away the moment he sees her sitting there. Not an echo, not an illusion, not a memory. ]
( she'd left her diary at home, and whilst it would have been a lovely piece of literature to read whilst she was sat there it was particularly more complicated now with multiple doctor's there. too dangerous.
besides, she had lied and told him she didn't have it. oops?
but there's enough to see as she sits and waits for him, knowing when he turns up without having to check that he's late. it's him, of course he's late )
Now just what time do you call this?
( though it's a little fonder than a real admonishment, her smiling as she sees him and-- )
Did you--? ( she's got to stand up now to get a better look ) You did. Oh, for me? You romantic.
( she's absolutely talking about the hair. she knows effort when she sees it )
( her hand easily slips into his, a smile that's more of a promise than anything else. the secret of his hair is safe, the gesture tucked between her hearts, loved )
So, where shall we start first? I've heard rumours about some of the shops here that would have made bow tie blush.
( of course she's nicknamed them. she's met so many, got to keep them straight )
As though you'd need the help. [ He says it with a smirk, but his hand tightens in hers and his gaze is desperately tender. ] So, you want to see what it takes for this face?
[ He could just ask if she's seen him blush before, as he suspects, but he knows she won't say. She's infuriatingly good at keeping the important secrets. ]
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Action lmk if this works for you!
Only a bit. He's not used to fussing over his appearance like it matters; it takes longer than he expected to tame his curls, and smooth most of the wrinkles out of his clothes. (He's accumulated more than the outfit he turned up in, by now, but - well, he wants to feel as much like himself as he can, with her.)
Then he has to find the cafe. He hasn't actually roamed the Up very much, because it means having to put his collar on. (Its sheer existence is bad enough, but of course it's a very particular shade of purple.) So that's a little more wasted time, that he can't even track properly because the city is still blurring his senses.
By the time he stomps inside, he's deeply aggravated - with himself, with Duplicity, with Time itself. With River for pretending she didn't know him, for getting ensnared by this hideous place and making him feel even more helpless.
It melts away the moment he sees her sitting there. Not an echo, not an illusion, not a memory. ]
Hello, sweetie.
<3
besides, she had lied and told him she didn't have it. oops?
but there's enough to see as she sits and waits for him, knowing when he turns up without having to check that he's late. it's him, of course he's late )
Now just what time do you call this?
( though it's a little fonder than a real admonishment, her smiling as she sees him and-- )
Did you--? ( she's got to stand up now to get a better look ) You did. Oh, for me? You romantic.
( she's absolutely talking about the hair. she knows effort when she sees it )
no subject
It's one thing, for her to say she knows him after all. It's another to really experience it.
He raises his left hand, and the gemstone of his ring catches the sunlight as he reaches for her, both awkwardly cautious and desperately yearning.
It's been so, so long. ]
no subject
So, where shall we start first? I've heard rumours about some of the shops here that would have made bow tie blush.
( of course she's nicknamed them. she's met so many, got to keep them straight )
no subject
[ He could just ask if she's seen him blush before, as he suspects, but he knows she won't say. She's infuriatingly good at keeping the important secrets. ]