![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
It's definitely a date
Mar. 30th, 2014 08:40 pmThings were moving slowly with Phil, but tonight was definitely a date. A second date, really, since they'd watched the sunset together after the island had stopped being Vegas. And there had certainly been a little kissing, though not as much as she had learned to expect. He was an old-fashioned kind of guy, though, and it was sort of nice not to jump into bed immediately. Slightly frustrating in a good way, too.
He'd suggested they have some of his fresh-caught fish on the beach sometime and she'd agreed immediately. They'd eventually settled on this particular Sunday night since he didn't have anything to do for his various island responsibilities and neither did she. She'd then been vain enough to attempt to convince the box to give her something that would both look nice and not be tremendously uncomfortable while sitting on sand.
Eventually she'd managed it, although she still wasn't sure about the bow, and she paired the box's suggestion with some sensible but stylish sandals before walking down to the pier. When she arrived, she saw Phil wearing what looked like linen. He seemed to prefer it and she didn't blame him, although she was glad she didn't have to do his ironing. He was tending a little grill and had apparently gone to some trouble to make an appealing little tableaux with blankets, pillows, and a basket of something.
"This looks lovely, Phil," she complimented him warmly.
He'd suggested they have some of his fresh-caught fish on the beach sometime and she'd agreed immediately. They'd eventually settled on this particular Sunday night since he didn't have anything to do for his various island responsibilities and neither did she. She'd then been vain enough to attempt to convince the box to give her something that would both look nice and not be tremendously uncomfortable while sitting on sand.
Eventually she'd managed it, although she still wasn't sure about the bow, and she paired the box's suggestion with some sensible but stylish sandals before walking down to the pier. When she arrived, she saw Phil wearing what looked like linen. He seemed to prefer it and she didn't blame him, although she was glad she didn't have to do his ironing. He was tending a little grill and had apparently gone to some trouble to make an appealing little tableaux with blankets, pillows, and a basket of something.
"This looks lovely, Phil," she complimented him warmly.
