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R.M.Whitaker

Laura's brow furrowed at the word 'calming'. That didn't fir her experience last night at all. Then she wrinkled her nose involuntarilly and pulled in her chin at his invitation. "No, thank you," she said, shaking her head a bit childishly. She didn't even realize that she was holding her breath as she spoke, as if afraid of inhaling smoke.

((Aw, I missed you too! I've sudden;y become a workaholic.))

4/7/2009 #211
Woodstock1330

(That’s alright, so have I. Hm, the romantic atmosphere between these two is unraveling fast! What shall we do?)

He shrugged. Laura certainly wasn’t comfortable with trying new or different things, and that concerned him, a racy young yank in London was about as “different” as it came. What had he been expecting? He liked her, a lot, she wasn’t like other girls and when he was with her he felt the need to be somehow better than he was, but what did that mean? Tomorrow he could be shot down, dead, he didn’t have time for more than a fleeting fling, and Laura—Laura wasn’t that type of girl. “Maybe I should get you home?” He asked, the tone in his voice seemed discouraged.

4/7/2009 #212
R.M.Whitaker

Laura looked up at Mickey when she heard him speak. The thought occured to her that she might have offended him and that was why he wished to leave now. She opened her mouth to appologize, but bit her lip instead. Perhaps it really would be best to leave now. It was getting late, after all, and she'd already let her reserve slip too much. Best to end the night before things could get any worse. Her eyes falling sadly into her lap, she nodded once. "I suppose you're right," she said.

((Ooo, a little rusty on the writing. Actually... very rusty now! But I gotta tell you.... Holy mackerel! I'm going through something soooo similar to Laura right now with a guy at work!!! It's actually kind of scary to read through our past posts and see all the emotions and similar situations written there! It's almost like we were writing my future or something! What makes it even more funny is that while I was writing all those past posts, I was thinking, 'In real life I'd never be tempted by a guy like that, but it's fun to read about.' Hah! This is what I get, I suppose.))

5/20/2009 #213
DaCivilWarBear

((*GAAAAASP*))

5/20/2009 #214
R.M.Whitaker

((I know, right?!))

5/20/2009 #215
Woodstock1330

Mickey frowned but nodded, and stood, crushing the tip of his cigarette on the window ledge and replacing it in his pocket. He didn’t really look at Laura as he crossed back to her, he looked in her direction, but somehow past her. He often boasted that he never heard the word “no” from a girl, but that was because he’d always known his place, his type of girls didn’t say no. He should’ve known better than to try for a nice girl like Laura, rejection was inevitable, and he’d known this, but still he hadn’t fully expected it…it was a feeling he’d have to take in stride. “Come on kid, let’s get you home.”

(Wow, that IS weird RM...but I have to ask, is he as cute and charming as Mickey? :P)

5/20/2009 #216
R.M.Whitaker

Laura sighed as she pushed herself up from the couch and she kept her head bowed as she led the way out, feeling very much the way she'd felt as a child at the boarding school whenever she'd done something wrong and been told by Sister Margaretta to 'go stand in the corner and think about what you've done.' Now she would have to go home. End this lovely night on a cold note and think about what she'd done wrong as she sat alone in her appartment.

Alone.... What an unhappy word! And the thought of it was even worse! Alone meant that Mickey wouldn't be there and that her life would go back to the dull, gray monotany it had been before.... She shivered at the the thought and pulled her pink cardigant more tightly over her torso. So lost in her dreary thoughts was she that she hardly noticed when they'd reentered the restaurant and she accidentally walked into the back of some tall gentleman. "Oh, excuse me," she murmered before glancing behind her to make sure Mickey was still near.

((Hmm.... I don't know, ha ha! He's different.))

5/20/2009 #217
Woodstock1330

Mickey followed close behind Laura, she had, after all, just fainted, and he wasn’t about to risk her falling and not being there to catch her. At least he knew what he’d be doing tonight, after he dropped her off. A bar, a beer and a brothel, the traditional “soldier’s night on leave”…somehow it dulled into comparison the flickering of candle-light reflecting in Laura’s eyes, or the sound of her incessant, but yet enchanting banter. Maybe just a bar, and something a little stronger than beer—maybe he’d swear off the dames, at least for a while.

He was brought back from his thoughts as Laura halted abruptly, having bumped into someone, he was just returning her glance when the gentleman turned around sharply, “imbecilic girl!” The man was of early middling age and his face was beet red—to match the wine stain seeping into his dinner jacket and white shirt beneath, “look what you’ve done!”

Mickey put a hand on Laura’s arm, sliding in front of her, “listen pal, it was an accident…”

“Accident! Accident! This was my best suit!” he leaned past Mickey to wave a finer in Laura’s face, “You’ll pay for this you stupid wen—.”

“Hey! The lady apologized! Now it’s too bad about your suit but—.

“You bloody yanks, always getting involved where you’re not wanted!”

“Oh, yeah sure, like this war, right buddy? ‘Cause you Brits were doin’ a real bang-up job before the bloody yanks got involved!”

The man, who’d been growing more red in the face with each passing second, finally exploded, swinging wildly. Mickey, who hadn’t really been expecting that from a middle-aged posh, took it square in the jaw. It was a surprisingly hard punch and Mickey stumbled back against Laura and a nearby table before regaining his footing.

(I felt strongly that something interesting needed to happen. XD)

5/20/2009 #218
Woodstock1330

*dramatic sigh* ah how I miss the good old days! :(

6/22/2010 #219
R.M.Whitaker
Laura was stunned, to say the least, by the passionate outburst of the man she'd bumped into. She'd never been spoken to in such a way before. British men were usually quite forgiving of women. But then, she'd never been around a man who'd had so much to drink before, either. She was mortified by the stain she'd left on his shirt(the perfectionist in her could scarcely stand to look at it), but all other emotions-- surprise, embarrassment, guilt-- quickly turned to fear at the animal rage in his eyes. The rage of one who was not in his right might. No hero had ever looked so noble in her eyes as Mickey did the moment he stepped between herself and the livid stranger. She screamed involuntarily and stumbled back a step when, suddenly, Mickey was thrown back against her, and felt her back hit the table behind her, knocking plates and pasta into the air and onto the floor. She was hardly aware of the sting on her arm from a shattered goblet as she fought to help Mickey back to his feet. Not another fight!
4/18/2012 #220
Woodstock1330

(R.M. is...is that you? Did you really post in April or is it some kind of glitch?)

Mickey could feel Laura's hands on him, trembling slightly but still firm as they helped steady him, he heard the shattering of glass and plates behind them and hoped she was okay, but didn't dare take his eyes off the man again to check. Usually he would've decked the fathead right in his ugly ruddy face but Laura had already fainted once that evening and besides, this was Marco's place, he didn't want to make a mess of it or give it a bad reputation, "hey, hey pal...lets take this outside alright? No need to ruin everyone's evening."

"The way that hussy ruined mine?!" he spat, making to swing again.

"Scusilo?" Marco's brother Antonio was standing suddenly between Mickey and the man, his mammoth arms folded across his broad chest, Antonio was a baker who supplied bread to the restuarant, and he was built like one too, stocky upper body trimming down to an almost disproportionately trim waist and thin legs. "I think I did not hear you right maybe, Signore, a gentleman would-a not call a nice girl that word."

The man blinked, taken somewhat aback by this new turn of events, but he stuck to his guns, or at least attempted to, "A nice girl," he glowered past Antonio and Mickey to Laura, "would never go out with a dirty guido-yank..." Even as he said it he bit his lip, realizing his error. The entire room, half of it filled with Italians, went still, staring at him with venom in their eyes, men began to crack their knuckles, women started instinctively shrinking back.

Antonio's hands had balled into fists, he glared for a moment at the man, watching him go pale, "of course...of course I didn't mean--," he started.

"Get out," Antonio growled lowly.

"But--but," the man sputtered briefly before the woman he was with, presumably his wife grabbed his arm.

"Come along Howard," she sighed, her tone more as though she were speaking to a naughty child than to her husband.

"Scusi, Scusi," Marco pushed his way through the crowd to his brother just as the couple left, "che cosa è accaduto?"

Antonio clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, giving him a half smile, "nevermind Marco, nevermind."

Mickey turned to Laura, half expecting to see her lying on the floor in a dead faint, he was surprised to find her still on her feet, he was even more surprised, and greatly dismayed, to see a stain of red across her arm, not of wine, but of blood. "Laura..." He murmured, his eyes darkening, brow furrowed with concern, he moved to put his arms around her but hesitated, the usually overly confident young man now suddenly unsure...

6/1/2012 . Edited 6/1/2012 #221
R.M.Whitaker

((Woodie!!! It's me alright!))

Laura's attempts to help Mickey to his feet turned into a protective cling. But the instinctive feeling to protect, for the first time in her life, was not directed at herself. To her surprise, the urge to step in front of Mickey was even stronger than the urge to hide behind him. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly, all she could think about was pulling Mickey away from this large, horrifying person before he got hurt. He had a family of loud, lively Italian-Americans back home who deserved to get him back in one piece. She was grateful when an even larger man intervened.

As the atmosphere in the little restaurant began to calm, she breathed a shuttering sigh of relief. No blood this time. As Mickey turned around to look at her, and she saw his eye, still bruised from the last fight, she was grateful that no further damage had been done to it. "Laura," he said. She followed his eyes down to her arm, which seemed to have also gotten some wine on it.

Then she felt the sting. And the warmth.

"Oh," she said.

6/2/2012 #222
Woodstock1330

(SQUEE!!! *runs and glomps*)

She blinked at him in confusion for a second before looking down at her arm, as if surprised to see the blood there, as if she hadn't realized she was hurt at all. Mickey did put his arms around her then for fear she might faint…she had a tendency to do that.

"Here," he murmured, "let me have a look at that," he took her arm gingerly and examined it. It wasn't one cut but three, two of which were minor but the third one, while certainly not life threatening at least deserved some attention.

"Marco?" he said calmly, interrupting Antonio as he explained, briefly, to his brother what had transpired, he didn't want to alarm Laura.

"Oh Michele, quel bastardo, he never eat in my restaurant again, I promise you--!" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the blood trickling down Laura's arm, "oh! è danneggiata! Oh Signorina!" This was exactly the reaction Mick hadn't wanted, he sucked in a short breath, aggravated—not just at Marco but at the whole situation, this night certainly wasn't turning out the way he'd planned, or at least the way he'd hoped...

(I hope I'm not taking over too much with the whole describing the wound thing, I mean it is your character's arm after all. :P)

6/2/2012 . Edited 6/2/2012 #223
R.M.Whitaker

Once again, Laura found herself the center of a bustling Italian beehive, swarmed with attention to put her back together. But all she could think was that Mickey looked like he was on edge. She could feel the tension in his arm that was wrapped around her waist as, for the second time that evening, the two of them were whisked back through the kitchen to that little bench in the back. "I'm fine, really," she tried to assure the fast-talking foreigners. She looked at Mickey, started to ask if he was ok, but then she was pulled from his arms by a plump woman with a wet rag and made to sit down. "It's nothing, you needn't trouble-- ah!" Whatever was on the rag smarted like acid! Laura tried to pull her arm away. The plump woman shook a finger at her, saying something in Italian. Though she didn't understand a word, Laura obediently allowed the woman to proceed, clenching her fists and flinching against the sting.

10/16/2015 . Edited 10/16/2015 #224
Woodstock1330

Mickey found himself brushed hastily aside by Madre and could only look on as she tended to the gashes on Laura's arm, feeling more than a little dazed himself after everything that had happened. The entire Valentini clan seemed once again crammed into the kitchen, all talking at once in rapid Italian, but Mickey didn't hear a word. He'd never had this kind of luck before with a girl, either she was wildly accident prone or he was losing his touch...He needed a cigarette, and maybe a stiff drink.

All he'd wanted was to take the girl on a date for god-sake! Dinner and dancing...and maybe she'd let him put his arm around her on the cab-ride home, and maybe, just maybe she'd let him kiss her goodnight, properly this time. Well he could forget about that now, she'd likely never speak to him again, let alone...he ran a hand frustratedly through his dark hair and sighed shortly. Their evening was in tatters...the only thing left to do was apologize profusely and pay her cab fare.

"Hey kid," he said quietly, below the hubbub, leaning down as Marco's wife stepped away to retrieve something to wrap around the injury, "you okay?" he ran his hand through his hair again, a nervous habit and offered her a weak smile, "some night huh?"

2/28/2016 #225
R.M.Whitaker

At Mickey's words, Laura looked down at her arm, the pink cardigan she'd always been too shy to wear now ruined with blood and tiny holes from which protruded delicate shards of glass. Then she looked up at Mickey's face. Color was beginning to flush his swelling jaw where he'd taken a hit so nobly in her defense, and to her surprise, Laura heard herself start to laugh. It was a little chirp at first, which she tried to suppress with her free hand pressed to her mouth and a blush rising to her cheeks, but despite herself, it began to bubble up from her throat in a way it hadn't done since she was a child, before her parents had died. "I'm so sorry--" she gasped with attempted civility. "It's just-- oh my goodness... I do apologize..." Every attempt to right herself only seemed to free the laughter all the more. "Oh, Mickey, I do believe we're cursed!" Her eyes began to sparkle with un-shed tears of mirth. She took a wet cloth from the sink beside her, despite the Italian protests of her self-appointed nurse, and reached up to touch it to poor Mickey's battered jaw.

3/13/2017 #226
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