all that cheap talk, cold walks, and cigarettes {closed}

Charlotte watched his order, and raised an eyebrow. So he was a smoker. It didn't bother her too bad, her father having been hooked on them for as long as she could remember, but it was a negative affliction to his character, if slightly. Why was she surprised? She looked over his face again, and knew that he surely looked the part of a smoker. "You seem disappointed," she said, and examining his face for a half-a-moment longer, dug into her bag that had been long over her shoulder, bringing it at level with her shopping basket so that the two clanked together. Out she pulled a camera, and held it sideways at him. "I'm a photographer, it's sort of my thing to take pictures of people." It was a bit awkward, but it did not show on her face. "You have a nice smile, I'm sure you wouldn't mind me exercising my photographer's impulse after we pay for this stuff?" Truthfully, he was the first person she'd really had a conversation with since Jace left, a talk she wanted to be a part of. Even if it were just idle chat in a grocery line, something in her pulled to make it more than that.

"No way, I get to hang out with a pretty girl for a little while longer." It took him a moment to realize what he said. Casual flirting was honestly a reflex for him at this point, so much so he hardly noticed it. Still, he played it off with a grin. This was just how he was.

At the reveal of Charlotte's camera, Dublin raised an eyebrows. When she explained herself and complimented Dublin, he laughed, caught off guard. Sure, Dublin was used to the occasional random compliment, but he hadn't expected Charlotte to notice that sort of thing. Being a photographer, however, it made sense. "Sure, I always knew I was supposed to be a model anyway." As he said this, the cashier returned and he was forced to turn back to the desk. The man did the math without the register, took Dublin's cash and called Charlotte up next, all the while mumbling angrily under his breath. Dublin would have felt bad for the guy if he wasn't the reason the line had taken so long as it had in the first place.

That was some definite flirting, and Charlotte did her best to ignore it. It wasn't that she disliked it or was uncomfortable, but it caught her off guard, and...maybe she was a little uncomfortable. She blushed when he turned his back and recovered when it was time to pay for her items. She said 'thank you' to the clerk who didn't exactly do his job well, and when she walked outside with Dublin, she realized the sun was significantly lower than before. Were they really in there that long?

"The lighting would be a little hard to come by here, unless I was going for a silhouette shot." Wouldn't be too bad if she wasn't trying to capture his face. "We could go against the sun, but then you'd be all orange. My photography teacher always hated the color orange, he sort of got me out of sunset pictures. We'd truthfully be better doing it in the storelight." Of course, she wasn't suggesting that. What a fantastic picture, being taken with an aisle of candy bars. That'd be one to display at a gallery.

Dublin was honestly a little lost to it all. He hadn't realized there was an entire science to photography. He thought people just took pictures of pretty things and that was that. A little overwhelmed, he fumbled through a reply. "I don't mind being orange, but um, you're the expert here. I'm just your Mona Lisa, you're the da Vinci." He shrugged. He could offer to let them go back to his apartment, but he didn't really want to send the wrong message. To be honest, he just enjoyed her company. He hadn't had much of that since he left Beata, and it was rather refreshing.

She nodded, and waved her hand, pressing her eye into the camera. "Smile," she told him, suddenly very serious, and after a minute of zooming and adjusting her grip, she snapped a picture. Bringing down the camera, she examined the picture. He looked handsome, though a bit disheleved. The orange glow was definitely present, and almost made it look cliche.
"I feel like it'd be better in brighter light," she persisted, almost pouting, turning the picture to him. She thought for a moment, then announced: "Do you live near here? Maybe we can take one indoors." Of course, she heard herself only after she said it, how weird and upfront it seemed. Did she sound like a whore?
"Or we can go to a library or something," her words were fast. "Or we can be satisfied with this picture and I can leave you alone." Then she laughed, an exaggerated laugh. Why was she that nervous? She was always amiable and comfortable around people.

Dublin flashed his best picture smile, the one that he'd heard made all the girls swoon. Or something, he didn't put much thought into it. (Yes he did.) At Charlotte's request, a surprise laugh escaped. Hadn't he just been considering the same thing? He watched her grow noticeably embarrassed and couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah, I'm close to here. We can go there if you'd like." Still, to save her more discomfort, he tried to be serious for a moment. "You don't have to worry though, Charlotte. I'm here for pictures and your company." He wasn't really trying for anything else. "Company that I'm genuinely enjoying, by the way. So you don't have to leave me alone." Or worry about him making a move.

Charlotte brightened at his words, especially the last thing he said. She grinned genuinely, putting the camera down. "Thank you," she said, rather quietly. "Thanks, I needed that. I enjoy your company too." There was a bubbly feeling in her of making a friend, something she finally achieved after being so lonely. It was like a challenge completed, a 100% success. She tucked the camera in her bag, and make a gesture with her hands. "Lead the way, captain," was her declaration.

Dublin was about on Charlotte's level of happiness at making a friend. He'd been hiding up in his room for months since he left Beata, and he hadn't really realized how much he could use someone until now. All thanks to an annoying little gremlin who kept throwing cheerios at him.

With a soft smile on his face, still warm from the interaction, Dublin turned and gestured for Charlotte to follow. "Right this way then." With all this going on, he completely forgot about his early urge for a nicotine high, his packs of cigarettes in the bag he carried, but otherwise forgotten as he led her to his apartment. It was only a short walk from the store, and it was still as pleasant as it had been when he first made this walk earlier. They turned his street and he led her upstairs and too his door, pulling a key from his pocket to open the door before heading inside.

"Sorry if it's a mess, I wasn't really expecting company." Not that he ever was, but to be fair, there wasn't enough stuff in the apartment to create a mess. A TV sat against one wall with a coffee table and a couch before it. A wilting plant sat in the corner next to a guitar that appeared to not have been touched in ages. White walls with band posters here and there and take out from earlier that day on the table. Still, it was better than it could have been. Dublin turned to her expectantly.

Charlotte followed him the whole way, all the while trying to keep up baseline conversation. What classes did you take in Beata? I hope the weather gets warmer soon. Nothing led to any fruitful and permanent conversation, and before she knew it, they were walking up the stairs to his place. He did live close by.

"This is fine," she said absentmindedly, glancing around his living room. It was messy, but an artsy kind of messy, if that made any sense. The sun was practically set, the stars making their faded return to empyreal dominance. She saw the posters, but hadn't really heard of the bands.

Lotte dug her camera out once more. "Let's do this," she said, and as soon as she did, a growl emitted from her stomach. It suddenly felt like an abysmal chasm. Yes, that was why she was buying food, to eat food! The girl ignored it, ushering him towards the window, the blueblack evening reflecting his form in the artificial light of the room. "Swiss," she said, and after a few moments, snapped the picture.

Dublin grabbed the take out from the table and walked it over to the trash. Making his way back, he caught her stomach growl and grinned. "We can go eat after this, if you want. I know a good place nearby." He offered, as he let himself be led to the window absent-mindedly. When she said 'Swiss', he tilted his head a bit in confusion, before it dawned on him and realization lit up in his eyes.

The light in his eyes made a good disposition for the picture, and she snapped it. It seemed that he had heard her stomach; she lowered the camera giggling embarrassed to herself. Sure, they could go out, but she spent all her money on the food she had with her...that was probably getting a bit bad at room temperature. "No, no, I can make something here." She looked around, nose up, as if trying to sniff out what she was looking for. "You got a kitchen, Dublin?" She grabbed her bag of ingredients and foods, knowing she could make something out of it. Her mom taught her a few recipes before she went to school in a frantic push for her to be "independent."

"I usually order out, since I can't cook for shit, but be my guest." In fact, the thought of real, homemade food being cooked in his kitchen was an exciting idea. He led her out of the den and into the kitchen, gesturing her in to go crazy. "I haven't used this kitchen for anything other than Ramen or pizza if I'm being honest. Don't feel obliged to cook for me though. I could just as easily buy you dinner." He added. It was a bit rude to bring a girl home and make her cook for you after only meeting her an hour ago. Dublin wasn't sure if that was a rule somewhere, but it probably should be.

She was already in there, though, and her decision was final. It was a bit cramped, but such was the life of a single person in a lone apartment; her apartment was the same way. She cluttered the already-cluttered counters with the things she bought, and decided to make pepper chicken, taking out the breasts she had purchased and rummaging through the cabinets for a pan. Standing on her toes, she found one finally after her feet began to ache, pulling it down.

Charlotte inspected the oven, which looked pretty old, and cautiously flicked on the gas stovetop. It ticked to life and whooshed. She put the chicken on the pan, and having miraculously found olive oil in his pantry, put it on for good measure.

Dublin, realizing Charlotte was having difficulty in reaching in the cabinets to rummage through them tried to move forward and help her, but by then she had found what she needed. He felt like a stranger in his own kitchen as he sat back and watched Charlotte work her magic. "If there's anything I can help with, I'm here." To be fair, he'd probably do more harm than good in this particular case.

Lotte waved him off, as if it were her own kitchen, telling him he was fine with the simple gesture and humming a tune she wasn't sure the origin of. She moved around the kitchen, doing her work and making sure to incorporate whatever she could find; it became apparently that his kitchen was a little dry, and some of the stuff in the back of the cupboards seemed more than past their expiration. Nevertheless, in 45 minutes, she came out with her production, after enduring what seemed to be a lifetime of a growling stomach. She brought it out on a thin plate she found in his drawer, a bit ghetto in itself, but the food looked nice.

"Sorry for taking so long," said Charlotte, carefully putting it down despite the lack of caution in her fast pace. It was strange; they'd just met that afternoon and she was making dinner in his house. In a way it was a date.