daemonized | RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

[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.]

Then I'm satisfied knowing that I've already overcome the first initial, difficult trial. [Can one even imagine Ardyn Izunia fretting over asking someone to dinner, though? If it seems like an alien thought, it's probably because it is -- like with many things that come easily to him, he had asked not without consideration, but certainly without hesitation.

But in any case, it's easy enough for man as observant as him to pick up that flicker of an expression Grell's face, after she mentions setting things on fire. Listen, you expect him not to ask about that?]

Are you speaking from experience? When it comes to setting things ablaze?

[the question comes mid bite, and she swallows before answering.]

Once. [a pause.] Or twice, actually. But the first time wasn't a dinner date and the result of sleep deprivation meaning I forgot to set a timer and so thoroughly burned what I was cooking that it was good for nothing but charcoal.

[she remembers that one well enough because of how the smoke detector had gone off, rousing her from an accidental nap she thought she could get away with in the time it was supposed to cook. testing weeks were never easy ones.]

And the other...that was when I thought I'd be impressive, and make food ahead of time, but I left it on the stove to stay warm. I firmly believed that I'd lowered the temperature enough to where it would be comfortable, and it was fine until I realized that my beliefs were wrong and now I had a small fire in a pot and had to take care of it before my date saw. Except, naturally, they did.

[she hadn't called them back, after that.]

Nowadays I'd like to think I'm far more careful.

[He's picturing both of these scenarios as Grell explains them, and he doesn't bother hiding the shine of amusement in his eyes as he listens. His fork clinks against his plate as he eats, patiently, until she's finished.]

If someone were to tell me that they've never caught their food on fire even once in their lifetime, I'd have to call them a liar. We're all only human.

[Still, that doesn't make the visual any less hilarious.]

So what did your date think of the miniature inferno in the pot?

Oh, they were concerned. Surprised, as anyone would be. Tried to help put the fire out before I could tell them not to worry but only succeeded in setting a dish towel on fire as well.

[panic helps no one, really.]

I wouldn't have minded in the end, but they acted so offended when I retold the story in front of people that it really added onto my thoughts that they had no sense of humor, and so, I didn't invite them over again. At least I know how to laugh at myself.

i'm laughing so hard

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