daemonized | RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

[the impulse is to snap back no, but she realizes how childish it sounds. instead, she just gives him a look, one that might be more powerful if it weren't undercut by her actually blushing. if she doesn't say it out loud it's on the level of him lawyer tricking her into saying that she found him attractive - admitted, but not the same as voiced.

flowers are different from flirting, okay. especially since somehow he got the news of her favorites.]

Usually I'm the one bestowing flowers on people.

[or plants, as the case may be. but, she can recover herself quickly enough.]

And if I hadn't borne witness to the flutterings of your heart on the ice, I'd express my surprise that your hopeless romanticism wasn't confined solely to the printed word and imagination. To get so run away with your feelings...I do hope my presence won't make any other dates jealous.

[look she held in making a quip about his double dates on Valentine's Day this long.]

[It's a right shame, then, that Ardyn remains unflappable, never mind how potentially powerful her look might have been, or could have been. When amusement strikes him, it takes an awful lot to beat it out of the man. It's what makes him both charming and annoyingly frustrating at the same time.

Because, yes, flowers are different from flirting. And so naturally he expects her to have a stronger reaction to them; one that would be all the more telling than simply reading words through text messaging. Perhaps he's pleased with what he sees.]

Dagon is no delicate flower. He is a cosmic monstrosity with no regards to the trifling concerns of mankind.

[But, ah, there's the mention of his double dates on Valentine's... he had wondered if he would be able to slip past that unscathed.] My other dates were less romantic, I assure you. And inescapable, considering how my nephew thought it'd be fitting to sign me up first without asking. [subtly flips this around!] Don't tell me you're jealous now, Grell. [A hand to his chest, fingers splayed across it.] My dear heart flutters only for you.

[One must ask if he's trying even harder to make her blush, now.]

[there was no way he was ever going to get past that without some mention. she had been courteous enough on the day of, but now she has the luxury to gently needle him about it, she thinks, even if it wasn't all his choosing, it's still a topic one could make a good joke out of-

except then he has to go and act like that. that is insufferable, not least because if he's trying to fluster her more, it has every chance of working, because Grell knows what being a romantic is about. and on occasions, it involves ridiculous people making ridiculous declarations that do nothing to help hinder blushing.]

If it's only me, well then, that's a unique condition you have indeed.

[another joke about possible medical issues? a joke at the expense of herself? who knows.]

But now why should I be jealous? Your Valentine's Day was yours to spend as you wished - except for the part where that was more or less decided for you by your nephew. Even if it were your choice, you were a free man.

[it would be perfectly illogical to be jealous about a date that someone else signed him up for without a choice. it would be illogical to be jealous in the first place, considering how absurd the chain of events was to even start the very idea of a date. (and yet, she is still a small amount jealous.)]

[He raises a brow at her, still not bothering to hide the air of amusement that's practically exuding from his person.]

That may be true, but you and I know that there's certainly no correlation between being jealous and my being a free man. [Semantics, his old friend. For the sake of his argument, he’ll utilize it without mercy.] The heart doesn’t care if I had good reason to entertain two dates in one day — it only cares that my focus wasn’t completely and utterly on you.

[Of course, he’s making an assumption; that she may actually feel a bit of lingering jealousy. If it’s not true, well, at least he can enjoy their rapport of teasing each other back and forth. (Even if it’s a bit one-sided right now.)

A palm pushes into the couch as he leans into his arm, drawing only a few inches closer. Not enough to make her uncomfortable, just enough to accentuate his point.]

But if I’m suffering from a unique condition, I’ll gladly accept my plight. [He doesn’t know if her comment had been self-deprecating or not, but all the more reason for him to turn it around on her.] I hear this sort of sickness only worsens over time.

[Look what you have gotten yourself into, Grell. You agreed to not only one date, but two dates with this man.]

[she can't even respond to the idea of jealousy without implicating herself worse than she already has. what do you know of her heart, Ardyn Izunia, she wants to say, and what sentiments it may hold?

the answer is he knows enough to amuse himself with.]

A pity there are only two known cures.

[she did agree to this. and she doesn't regret, but she wishes she had something to fling back at him that would provoke a similar response. something something turnabout being fair play. one day, she swears, she'll find out what that something is, and revel in the effects.]

For you to either inflict another with the condition, or to learn to discard it. Which would you prefer?

[Someday, maybe, she might be able to find whatever impossible thing it is that'll faze this man -- something that might even embarrass him, though it seems a nigh impossible goal at the moment, what with the way he's giving her that trademark lopsided smile of his.]

I think you should know which I prefer, considering my attempts to inflict it upon you now. [But he huffs out a laugh, making broad shoulders rise in conjunction with the sound of amusement. It's almost a shrug.] But if you're having to ask, maybe I'm not doing a well enough job of it.

Even though your blushing would state otherwise.

Maybe I ask but to hear you say it.

[there. she's regaining metaphorical balance, even in the face of that smile. this is his "idle prattle", apparently? at least it's not running the same tired paths of what's your favorite color or anything like that.]

Blushing doesn't necessarily indicate that my heart is fluttering. I can be charmed and have it beat steadily on. Every person has their own unique sorts of tells. [and if he wants to know all hers, he'll have to find them out of his own accord.] You've only been generous enough to tell me one of yours. Which, thank you for that as well as the roses.

Fair enough. [He has nothing against humoring her, just as he has no reason to play coy. If she wants to hear him utter the words, Ardyn will do so.] Yes, I do wish to inflict upon you the plague of an overtly heartfelt, and needlessly doting, hopeless romanticism. A crime that I'm wholeheartedly guilty of.

[Let it never be said that idle prattle with Ardyn Izunia is anything short of... engaging.]

Is that so? And what's a tell of mine, then? I've been told that I'm exceedingly difficult to read, given that I skew towards one very singular type of demeanor.

[That is, being frustratingly frivolous.]

[the joke is something she's keeping to herself, but she wonders how he intends to inflict such a plague on someone who's been a hopeless romantic for years. make it worse, maybe, even though she's always tried (and half of the time failed) to temper it with realism.]

If your heart is really fluttering, all I'd need to do would be to look to your pulse. Your face might be hard to read, your smile impenetrable, but you can't fool touch. I've never once met a person who could.

[does that even count as a tell, one would wonder.]

[Ardyn has to admit, it would be awfully difficult to fool her if she did take it upon herself to feel for his pulse. Though if that's really a "tell" remains up for debate; at best, it's a bit of a stretch.]

That might be true, but it also requires for you to reach out and touch me. Are you so curious, or bold enough to do so? [Or will that have you blushing, too, seems to be the rest of that implication.

And so, never one to shy away from a challenge (or to call out a bluff), he holds out a wrist.] You can find out if my heart is fluttering right now, if you like.

Well, with your permission.

[if there was hesitation, it doesn't exist in the wake of deciding just like that to commit to it. such a challenge is simple enough. if he's not shying away, why should she do so, so early? and besides. there's a joke to be made here about asking a doctor to check his heart rate.

so, Grell finally sets the flowers aside, and reaches out to take his wrist with both hands. one to hold it, one to lay two fingers where the pulse beats. falling quiet, she counts both seconds and beats to see.]

[Is it a pleasant sort of surprise that he feels, when she actually does take his wrist and begins counting his pulse? It certainly wasn't unpleasant, and that borderline vainglorious smile of his only threatens to widen. But he doesn't say anything, remaining still. Ardyn tells himself that he's going to force himself to defy convention, to shatter expectations. That her foolproof method of being able to read him, as silly as this notion might be, will fail.

Of course, nothing of the sort happens. It's almost laughable how predictably his body reacts to the touch of someone he's attracted to, and his heart rate does indeed quicken just a bit, but someone as experienced as Grell would surely be able to tell. That is... in its own way, a bit embarrassing in hindsight, but not nearly enough to make him regret it.]

[count for ten seconds, multiply by six, and when it comes to resting heart rate...]

As suspected. You're a little fast.

[so it's not as obvious as her blushing at sentiment that catches her off guard or someone misplacing a word or two or avoiding eye contact. it's not much of anything, but it's still a fool's kind of proof.]

Don't worry. I won't tell a soul - your secret is safe, and you can remain to the world impossible and unflappable when they try to read you.

[and for times when she isn't close enough to feel it, she'll be part of that world. Ardyn Izunia can keep his air of mystery intact.]

[A fool's kind of proof is proof regardless. When she's done, he retracts his hand, though he can't help but give a small shrug of his shoulders. Ardyn's not denying what she had said, for what's the point?]

Good. I would hate for you to start spreading terrible rumors about me being a sentimental, or worse, romantic sort of man. As it stands, you'll already have to pretend the flowers are from someone else. A mysterious, nameless admirer.

You wanting to be my secret admirer is as romantic as roses, I hope you know. As well as delightfully old-fashioned.

[if he wants to pretend he's made of stone in public, sure, but it won't change that she'll know the truth. would it wound him terribly if she lied and gave someone else's name if someone asked? probably not, she thinks, he'd laugh at the idea, but all the same, there's something more respectful about keeping him anonymous than outright lying.]

Very well, it's an agreement. None shall know who can truly take credit for them. Shall I say they're from your brother instead?

[she wouldn't really. but she wants to see his reaction.]

Edited 2017-03-20 03:32 (UTC)

[To be fair, if the whole world knew that Ardyn had sent her a dozen roses, or even five dozen, he'd laugh. It's true his sense of romance is often motivated by no small dose of amusement (one particular hurdle that was never quite overcome in his past relationships), but he speaks out of jest more than anything else. Still, the idea of her keeping his name anonymous where flowers are concerned adds an air of mystery to the whole thing. Of course he'll only encourage her, in that case.]

That may be true, but only you can know that. [As far as secret admirers being more romantic than roses, he means.

Still, when Grell asks if they should be from his brother instead, whatever witty thing he was going to say afterwards completely leaves him. He scoffs almost immediately, brow furrowing.]

No. I'd rather not him get wind of it, because he may just get the wrong idea.

~~[because fynn would probably hit on grell, even if jokingly, lbr, and lord he doesn't want that]~~

I've never even met him, I wouldn't seriously drag him into this.

[though that is accompanied by a deliberate turning her head away and having the audacity to smile and self satisfied as she does. that suspiciously sounds jealous, Ardyn.]

Knowing it would displease you renders my desire to do so absolutely in the negatives.

Even as a joke, the very idea is enough to send a chill down my spine. [Purposefully exaggerating? Or not exaggerating at all? One might wonder. Besides, it doesn't sound like jealousy at all, Grell, you're completely misinterpreting. (It is, actually, a hint of jealousy, even in a situation that clearly isn't going to happen.)

Still, she may be turning her head away from him, but he knows that trick.]

If you're going to smile in the most self-satisfied way possible, at least let me see it. [-he calls her out on it, but not without an amused half-smirk of his own.]

[and here Grell was trying to be polite. but she'll oblige, turning back to look at him. and yes, she does have a quite self-satisfied smile on her face, as much as he'd had when he'd seen her blushing.]

Does your heart care that it's a joke?

[she knows she's throwing his own statements back at him, and before she can give enough pause for a reply, she puts her hand on her heart and continues.]

Don't worry. For as much as I might joke, my affections haven't gone and fallen away. You can trust that.

[it's simply fun to send it all back at him in the brief moments of such that exist.]

[Ah, there it is, her own version of a slightly smug smile aimed directly at him. It isn't enough to disarm Ardyn (What is? A mystery she'd just have to unravel), but her words concerning how her affections haven't abandoned him, as overly dramatic as the notion is, actually does cause him to glance away.

Something he covers up almost immediately by the way he stands, lifting himself up from the couch with ease. Only then does he glance back down at her, his expression as unflappable as before.]

I should hope so. One should always hold onto their affections at least until after dinner is over. And as for whether or not my heart cares if you're joking-

[He offers her a hand, though this time it's an urging for her to stand, not so she can take his pulse once more.] -you'd have to take it upon yourself to check again. I'm not telling.

After dinner, maybe?

[lucky for him, she doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary about it. he's safe from further inquisition, for now, and instead she takes his hand to rise from the couch.]

Maybe. It depends on dinner.

[though given how their conversations were going, it was unlikely she'd not be on some other subject by that time hit, and forget entirely until later when one could regret it and wonder what the answer would be.]

Which, by the way, I've been curious about, but I wouldn't dream of asking you to spoil the surprise.

[He releases her hand as soon as she’s standing, and begins to lead her to the dining room (which isn’t terribly far detached from the living room to begin with). Along the way, he offers her a reply, airy as it is.]

Consider your curiosity about to be satiated soon enough. I’d hate to spoil the surprise, especially since the reveal is only minutes away — if even that.

[And he’s right about that; let’s fast forward a few minutes ahead, a short period of time in which Ardyn’s managed to serve what he’s prepared beforehand, and they’ve situated themselves at the table. His idea of a side salad is an unusual one (but it’s an awful lot of red, that’s enough for them both to appreciate it, regardless), but the main draw of the dinner is at least presented well enough.

(If he were to be honest, he was a bit motivated by the fact that Fynn always declares Ardyn as being unable to cook for both himself and others — he feels self-satisfied in proving his little brother wrong, even if he’s not here to see it. But… well. That’s not worth mentioning right now, and he makes he wise decision not to.)

Grell’s glass will be filled with whatever it is she prefers, honestly, as he would be the sort to ask beforehand. She’s more than welcome to forgo wine for water, or anything else, but Ardyn certainly has a wine glass on his side of the table.]

I welcome both compliments and criticisms alike.

[well, she's impressed. she'll take wine to pair with it and keeps any commentary down until she's tried it all. partly it's to make him wait, partly to be able to give a full report. but for someone who usually cooks for herself and so barely pays attention to things like presentation, it's a very nice change of pace.

finally, she levels her eyes on him with a serious expression, frowning a little, before she speaks.]

It's wonderful, Ardyn.

[the seriousness was fake, and she lets it go away to be replaced with a smile instead. no, she can't be that cruel.]

I thought about criticizing it, but I find myself incapable of doing so. It rather goes against my wish to enjoy the moment of good food and good company both.

[Partly to make him wait? What a tease! But Ardyn isn't the type to squirm in his seat while under scrutiny (scrutiny was a steadfast friend of his, when one grows up in the sort of household he did), and so the professor just makes cozy with his own glass of wine as he waits. Patient and unperturbed.

When she frowns at him, though, he cannot help but arch a brow. And for the brifest second, he thinks that maybe Fynn was right, damn him, and his confidence in his own cooking skills were misplaced and-

Ah.]

I'm extremely glad that you think so, Grell. [His smile returns, faint this time.] I admittedly don't do this very often [which? bring a date over or cook a fancy meal?] and I wasn't exactly certain what you'd think.

[He makes a vague gesture with free hand, the one not clasped around the stem of the wine glass.] Is it too much? Not enough? Always prone to second guess oneself, where dinner dates are concerned.

[she shakes her head a little.]

There's no need to second guess yourself. It's more than fine.

[not too much, not lacking. he cared enough to want to make it right, and so it ended up being so. Grell knows her standards are simple to the point that the spending time and the food being edible is enough, but she's also not going to turn down roses and good food. who would?]

Usually I've found the biggest hurdle for dinner is asking someone. Everything else will sort itself out, as long as nothing gets set on fire in the process.

[and from the expression that quickly crossed her face, that happened before. but this Friday is leaps and bounds above that already.]

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i feel like i should apologize for everything ardyn

i'm laughing so hard

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