need a little church

Echo Echo 
#1


This was kind of stupid. She didn't know this guy, didn't know what he thought this was. The truth was that she didn't even know what this was. Definitely not a date. Just one of those "let me see you again, but in a different setting." Honestly, he'd sort of triggered some douche alarms with her, but Clem had a laundry list of of a record that indicated she kind of liked that. Bastien was different, so she wanted to explore that. Maybe he'd prove to just literally be an asshole that worked at a snooty art studio, or maybe he'd prove to be worthwhile. That said; she definitely packed pepper spray. She might be able to break an arm or turn into a giant wolf that could eat someone, but she could appreciate the simplicity of spraying chemicals into a guy's face to make him fuck off.

She got here first, as far as she could tell. It wasn't incredibly packed, but there was a crowd drawn to see a pretty notable local band. The sort of music that was really hard to put into a genre. If anyone googled them, their results would just say "musical artist." Think Amigo the Devil, Murder By Death, Dropkick Murphys. Just sort of... weird but in a good way. Clem was into it, and she was banking on them to impress Bastien, since her cred was on the line and all that.

She waited by the bar, nursing an old fashioned with maple, watching as the band got set up on stage.


@Bastien

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#2


 He wasn't really sure if he'd shown up early or not. There was no blasting music just yet as he walked through the doors. Although a brief scan would reveal two things. The band was only just setting up and he was apparently not the first one to show. He was a little unsure if it was her at first but a closer look as he moved towards the bar would reveal he was correct in his first guess.

 "Clem." He'd call out with the hope of gaining her attention. Next step would be to take a place near her. "What are you starting with?" An eyebrow raised as he tilted his head towards her drink. Bastien had a feeling he could guess it but that was no fun.
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#3
That was her name. She perked in a way that was suspiciously dog like, but maybe only to someone who knew more than they were supposed to. Her eyes blinked, and she glanced in the direction of the voice. Oh, okay, fancy. What a look! A smile spread across red stained lips as she took him in while he took his spot beside her. "I'm old fashioned," She answered, swirling the drink before her, "But, I like things sweet. Added maple." The truth was that she really didn't enjoy liquor, but beer and wine did absolutely nothing. The wolf purged alcohol from her bloodstream like it was her sworn duty to ruin anything that could be remotely enjoyable. Thanks, Dawg.

"You look good, I realized too late we didn't go over dress code."
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#4
 Ah, a classic with a lil twist. He could dig it even if it wouldn't be his choice beverage. Then she'd tell him something that felt a little like a compliment and an insult! "Serves me right for not looking more into this, eh?" Maybe it would look bad that he hadn't shown some more forethought to this little outing. He also just sort of trusted her in the way one trusted a tour guide. There wasn't much more beyond that. Not yet, at least.

 "As long as it at least looks good." She definitely looked good, but he felt very dude brain in the fact that she'd probably know that without him saying so. Right? Whatever. A small huff as he briefly debated what to get. Settled on a standard rum and coke.

 He doubted it would take long to get, but they could talk while it was made. "I take it you hang here often? Seeing as you know the best nights." This did, without a doubt so far, seem like the best night to be here.
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#5
The smile lingered as she sipped her drink, a brow arching some at his admittance. Maybe this was something he was walking into just as blindly as she was. What were they doing? No one knew, especially neither of them. Was it weird to like that? Felt spontaneous, a break from the normal. A tiny tilt of her chin served as a nod while she swallowed, a confirmation that yes, it did look good. A v neck was a choice, but not a bad one. Not for him, at least, some how he pulled it off. Some dudes were too white for V necks, sorry.

As for how frequently she came here, Clem gave a cursory glance around, then inhaled through a grimace smile, "More than I wanna admit. But, the shop I work out of it just three doors down, so it's convenient." A glance toward the door, in the direction of the shop.
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#6
 That was a fair answer. He could definitely relate with the whole "more than wanted to admit" way more than he liked. That was life though! "We all got a place like that." He huffed in response with a lazy smile. Maybe he could make her feel a bit better. It was worth a shot. She'd either appreciate it or hate it. "Mine's this little corner store down the street from my place. Owned by an old Russian couple, they have all sorts of things in there." A little wave of his hand. "So, see? Mine makes me sound like a fat lazy dude. Yours is at least a cool, underground place."

 Just in time to save him from talking himself into a hole, the bartender would bring forth his drink. Which he would be quick to have a few sips from. Anything to help him ignore the anxious hum in his core that had begun.
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#7
Clem toyed with the napkin her glass was sat upon as he commiserated, maybe trying to make her feel better about frequenting a bar. Except his was cute! A little store owned by an old couple. A laugh through her nose came in answer at his conclusion, and her eyes moved to rove over him briefly. Zero percent of him read 'fat lazy dude' to her. But his self deprecation was just her brand of humor.

"Do you live in Belle Vista, or just work there? Trying to imagine what a corner store in Mansion Village would look like."
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#8
 He'd offer a half-scoff at her question. No way in hell could he live in Belle Vista. Didn't fit in and hardly knew the first thing about it outside of his workplace. Not to mention he knew very well that he couldn't afford a mansion in one of their upscale neighborhoods.

 "Just work there. Live over in Lavender Heights." He'd left out the fact that he'd consider a move when the time was right. The commute was definitely...not great at the moment. She didn't need to know those things! "Do you live around here or...?" Trailed off slightly as he left room for her to correct him as fit. Sure she worked nearby but did she leave nearby? Creepy thought, Bastien!
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#9
Lavender Heights, huh? Maybe he was more of a party person than she thought. Or maybe thats just the nicest thing he could afford. It was better than Larkspur. Speaking of which, she answered his question with a scoff of her own, "Nah, I don't got Cordova money. I'm out in Larkspur." She admitted. Telling him the city wasn't the worst, was it? "I got my fair share of city life by living in Chicago for a few years." A 'few' being all of her teenhood and then some.
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#10
 Larkspur, something he'd tried to remember but probably wouldn't do great at. Maybe he'd keep it in mind whenever he got around to looking at new places.

 "Yeah? What's city living like, eh? Never got to do much of it." Honest intrigued as he leaned forward a bit. Only looked elsewhere to make sure they weren't about to be blasted by loud music over their conversation. Was hard to tell sort of! He didn't know where the whole process was at behind the scene.
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#11
brief abuse tw


Clem clicked her tongue at the question, then pulled in a breath to puff out her cheeks. Well, city living in her experience was pretty fucking horrific. Too many drugs, shitty people, petty crimes, garbage men. Not to mention at one point she was turned into a monster and forced into a group of other monsters that never believed that the bruises and cuts she had weren't from sparring with her Sire. None of that was something Bastien should or would know, though. So. Just as she parted her lips to answer, his drink was set before him, and she watched the exchange idly as she spoke, "Hmm, in a few words... expensive, crowded, and... Well, I didn't learn how to drive until literally last year. Its like... pointless to have a car there." Public transport was just how she got around for most of her teenage years, and those that did have cars always drove for her. She hadn't had to learn until she moved back to somewhere were busses and subways could only get you so far.
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#12
 It was about what he expected or what he’d imagine if someone asked him about cities. All he’d do was raise his glass, slight tilted in her direction. "Cheers to the freedom a car brings and hopefully a less crowded, less expensive life." If she wished to clink glasses, he’d partake in it. Then down the hatch went some of his drink. The burn of any alcohol was a welcomed distraction from the throbbing pain of a usually dull headache. Slightly intense for the moment, fleeting but notable. The reason would become obvious in the form of a murky figure in the corner of the room. Loomed like it was a bad omen.

 Whatever. He could ignore it, right? Maybe the less mind he paid to it the more it would just bleed away into the background of everything until it was nothing.

 "Probably dumb to even ask," If only because he’d probably hate whatever answer he got. Or both of them would find it a loaded question. "But what made you even want to be my tour guide, hm? Pity strangers who don’t know jack?" Always prepared for the answer that would be a blow to his ego.
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#13
"Damn right," She said with a throaty chuckle, and did strike her glass gently against his. The sound was nice on the ears, and she shot back what was left of her drink as he started on his. Glass back down, she eyed the bartender, intending to oder another. In the meantime, he posed a question that he was already writing off as stupid. She didn't think it was, though.

A smile that had stayed permanent on her lips since his arrival took a turn that could be taken as coy, if you really looked at it. Clem wasn't that good at this whole... thing, she hadn't really done something like this since her ex. But, well, here she was, so she was going to put forth her best efforts. "Hmm, only the cute ones." She answered.

As if to curb the potential awkward silence that would follow a statement like that, the band started up a cacophony of strumming and experimental taps of their mics. A cymbal hissed, an audio jack crackled, and the gathered crowded erupted in low whooping and excited applause. Clem gladly used that as a distraction, and looked toward the stage innocently, as if she hadn't just strung herself up on a clothesline in front of him.
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#14
 He had not prepared for that sort of answer. Probably should have expected it but didn't. He'd barely parted his lips to say something, but all that came out was nothing. Replaced by the rumble of life from the band on stage and the rush of small cheers of excitement. It was probably for the best. He didn't have anything sly to say. Just let a small dumb smile linger on his face while he took another sip of his drink.

 Then it slipped out. A low but soft laugh like it struck him in a delayed manner. "Least now I know I can make it by on my looks." He couldn't, he knew that. Wasn't some hot model or move star. Yet it would sort of gauge if she wished to revise that statement or if he got to pretend to be cute all night.
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#15
He didn't immediately have something to say to that, and she was privately mortified that he was uncomfortable or something. But, after a pause and a laugh, he piped up with something that proved to ease her nerves a bit. This was still precarious, suddenly open water that she was treading. She'd waded in, and suddenly the bottom had dropped out from under her. Now she just had to stay afloat or risk drowning. Drowning, in this case, would be making herself look like an idiot to this dude.

The bartender swung by, and it bought her a beat to think about what to say to that as she signaled for another of what she'd finished. With a drink coming up and the stage crackling to life with a few experimental strums of blusey chords, she looked back to Bastien with a small smile on her lips, "Looks can get you anywhere." She said with a shrug, "Bet you knew that, though, with being in the music industry." She was curious about that. Had he been a producer, or a musician himself?
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#16
 Unknown salt in his bitter wounds. He'd offer a snort like some dumb bull ready to charge. Except he was too lazy to be anything like that grand image. A small roll of his head. "Amazing how many faces came through thinking that just because they have the face to be on a cover, they can make something to put in that cover. No one wants to hear someone honk like an âne through their speakers or headphones." She had unknowingly set off a landmine within him.

 "Trust me," He'd grumble with a lazy smirk. "There's only so much editing can fix." Perhaps it was a bit bratty of him to bash on people's (lack of) skill. It also just felt good to air it all out. If she thought less of him for it, so be it.


âne = ass (donkey)

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#17
Whoops, that was a hot button for him. Clem listened with a somewhat apologetic smirk as he lamented, sort of regretting making the comment, but gauging that he wasn't mad at her for it. Was that french again? Whatever the word was, he said it in a way that she grasped what he meant. No one wanted to hear shit just because the person singing it was a supermodel. Looking at you, Paris. She guessed she could understand. There were people that thought just because they looked the part and lived the lifestyle, they were great tattooists. Not the fucking case. It took work.

"Hey, man, I feel you. The proof is in the work, not the insta-likes." Clem nodded sagely, "There's artists out there that tattoo actual shit onto people but they post sexy mirror pics of their body suits of other artists works, and they get clients out the ass." Fucking stupid.
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#18
 It was a pity that she understood it but perhaps that made him seem less aggressive about the whole ordeal. Helped when someone could see his side. Which was rare but welcomed when it occurred. He'd listen to her own little spiel about it all. Offered nods when appropriate or a shake of his head when it called for it.

 "What about you, though? Got a line out the door or a book full of appointments?" Curious about her schedule, about her in general. Leaned in slightly to hear whatever answer she gave over the strum of the intro to some song. He admittedly didn't care too much to keep in mind whatever song it was or who they had introduced themselves as.
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#19
Hey, good sign that he was asking about her, right? Right? He leaned in closer, and she mirrored him slightly. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but that was a given. Otherwise, he smelled of some manly sort of body wash or cologne, and coffee. She wondered how much he drank for it to permeate from him. "I stay busy," She admitted with a humble smile, "No year waiting lists or anything, but definitely months in advance."

She wasn't a show off, but he'd mentioned it, so she moved to grab for her phone, "Here," She said, and tapped on her Instagram, the best place honestly to look at her work. With it on her screen, she handed over the phone for him to scroll through as he pleased, "You mentioned wanting to see," She added. As he scrolled, he would see that she mostly did black lining and floral designs, but there was a healthy mix of more stylized art and portait work.
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#20
 He probably would have been at a loss for words if she had said years. Months was a reasonable wait time while still showing the demand of the artist. At least that's how it looked in his mind. His head would bob at her comment before he contently scrolled through her account. It was all gorgeous stuff. Absolutely killer line work and how it all had depth without any true color.

 "I like the floral stuff." He hummed in honesty. Everything looked good but, it just so happened to be that particular thing that drew him in. "You'll be the first on my list if I ever need work done." Which he hoped she would take it as the compliment was meant to be. Even if it didn't sound the most flattering ever.

 He'd gladly hand back her phone, gaze drifted over to the band once more. A few moments watching them do their little thing before he found himself looking back over at her. "So do I need to make sure you head home at a certain time? I don't know if there's a...Monsieur Tour Guide or something who'd hunt me down." Sort of joking but sort of honest. The last thing he wanted from all of this was some jealous partner up his ass about their night out.
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#21
Clem was good at taking compliments about her work. It wasn't everyones cup of tea, so she could see through bullshit like water. He was honest, and she thanked him with a smile as he handed over the phone, "Be glad to stab you a bunch." She joked. The drink arrived then, and she grabbed it for a sip as Bastien went about asking if she was single in a way that was smoother than she expected. "Nope, the only one I gotta worry about is my roommate, but the worst she'll do is pester me in the morning about who I was out with." Zelda pestered her about everything, though, as was her nature. It wasn't a bad thing, she was used to it. She did the same to her, anyway.
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#22
 He appreciated anyone who was honest about their desire to stab him. Even if this was meant in a far more lighthearted way. Then she'd reward him some more. Knowledge or a roommate and that the worst she'd deal with was pestering. Which was high up on a list of things he never wanted to deal with. Ever. "So what are you gonna tell her? Make up a more exciting man or tell her about the cute stranger who doesn't know jack and asks too many questions?" The start of a mischievous smirk on his face.
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#23
The band was in the beginnings of a song now, something simple and quiet, with a bunch of mandolin and fiddle in the background. Some macabre lyrics she didn't quite catch. He was leaning into this, more than he had at the start, so she was willing to meet him head on. "Hmm, it depends on what we end up doing, but I'll tell her you seemed interested." A lift of her brows, silently prompting him to confirm that that was accurate. She took a sip of her drink with a curl to her lips.
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#24
 "Giving her the good details right off the bat. I see." He teased as he sort of rotated his glass in his hand. Watched the dark liquid swirl about as if it really meant anything other than a distraction for his hand. Maybe it was the tone of the unique instruments in the background or maybe it was the liquor settling on a mostly empty stomach. Perhaps it was her. Likely her. "What do you see us doing?" Just lounging here, listening to music throughout the night until they parted ways?
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#25
That sounded like a confirmation! He was interested! And that was just sort of a fact she had now. Unless she was misreading this whole thing, and if that was the case, then maybe she would step into the street later and forget about it :). Anyway, he was asking what next, and she honestly didn't know. This was all a bunch of winging it.

"Well, I planned on getting at least a little drunk tonight, I don't know about you." She tapped her glass with an un-manicured nail. This was her third, and was just now giving her something like a buzz. "And we have to stick around here for you to hear enough to give your expert opinion," She motioned to the band, then the venue itself, "Buuuut, theres also other bars if you wanted to check em out, or..." Clem found herself slipping into a grin, trailing off because she really didn't know what else to suggest. She was a horrible tour guide.
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#26
 His gaze moved to watch her tap her glass. She planned on getting drunk. Which meant she was not yet there and this was...her second? No. Third. He lingered on the impressed feeling of that but it seemed sort of inappropriate to point that out. He was't some dumb frat boy to be wooed by someone downing one drink after another.

 "Oh." Fake hurt that was betrayed by his still present smirk. "I'm cute but not sober cute. Got it." A tilt of his glass at her before he finished what was in there. Secretly perhaps a bit more already effected by his beverage than she was. "Well, perhaps we should get drunk to see if I'm cute enough to keep around for the night." What did he mean by that? Bastien hadn't decided yet. He just opted to play it a little bold and would happily hate himself later if it went south.
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#27
She scoffed softly at that, holding up a finger. But! He was definitely not serious, and even agreeing to join her in the land of not-so-sober. Holy shit, this was a... thing. A thing she didn't ever expect to come out of teasing a dude that wore sunglasses indoors. "Listen, I decided you were cute when I was stone cold sober." She clarified nevertheless, and then dropped her finger as she offered him a toothier smile, "But I do wanna see if thats the case."

Annnnd so then she would take a swig of her drink and hope that the stupid wolf didn't get too much in the way. So far she had been less than interested in this man, had written him off entirely as something she didn't have to worry about. That was fine with Clem, she didn't need the wolf's input. Just as long as she kept her shit together. Thankfully the closest full moon was behind her.
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#28
 "Look at you, boosting my ego at every corner." A snort of laughter as he gave the proper gestures and niceties needed to order another drink for each of them. "Here's to hoping I hold up." If he believed in some higher being that controlled whatever universe jumbo, he might have prayed to it to make him extra attractive tonight. A stupid prayer but a honest one.

 He'd let the time slip some into a bit of a lull. Stuck near her, of course, but tried to focus on the music too. She wanted his expertise. Which was a silly thing to ask for while they intended on getting drunk. What did he think of them? Good things but words should probably be thought of before they were gone.

 A buzz would teeter into the heavier area soon enough for him. Empty stomach was doing him wonders in this moment. "Hey," he'd mumble as he leaned back some. "How are you feeling about..." Sort of trailed off into nothing. Just how was she feeling in general and about things would suffice for him. Sadly he didn't use his words to properly convey that!
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#29
It probably made her look like an alcoholic, but she stuck exclusively to harder liquors as they chatted and listened their way through a few more drinks. It took a lot to get ahead of her own metabolism, but she got there eventually. Her cheeks felt warm, her lips numb and head feeling sort of like she'd stuck it in a fish bowl. Sounds warbled, glaringly loud with her sense of hearing, but echoing from the dissonance of alcohol in her bloodstream. The music was good, some stuff she'd heard before, a cover here and there.

Eventually, Bastien was asking her something, and Clem rotated her head to fix him with a heavy lidded gaze, a smile stuck on her lips. Hey, hey, he definitely was cute like this, too. All flushed and drunk and scruffy. She didn't have time to consider why the fuck she liked dudes like this, she just knew she did, so fuck it! Right, question.

How was she feeling about... what! She had an answer, words coming out before she really had much time to think about them. "Hmmm, I'm feeliiiing like maybe we should go find somewhere that sells food. Real food not shitty gross bar food." Said in the earshot of the bartender, who rolled their eyes without Clem even noticing. The food here was actually not bad, but she kind of wanted to walk around outside and find something else.
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#30
 She was so smart with her good ideas and she was also still really cute like this. He struggled to grasp that she had picked to be here with him. That like...he got to spend time with her in a room full of other people. The music was just a cool, fun little side thing.

 He'd tilt his head back and let out a sound that could only be described as a satisfied huff. "That is...such a good idea." Lulled tone with his warm, drunken comfort but definitely a bit excited by the promise of food. He'd sort of rummage around for his wallet to slide some cash by his glass. Probably a bit more cash that he'd wish to spend but that likely wouldn't be realized until tomorrow. "I want the biggest bowl of some rich, authentic, and flavorful ramen that we can find." Could they even find that? Whatever. He'd just toss her a look, patient and awaiting her response to his idea built off of hers.
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#31
Clementine liked to hear that. She was full of good ideas, thank you Bastien. She liked to claim she didn't need need to hear someone's approval, but like it was really nice nice to hear it. This was going good, this was awesome! He wanted ramen and that sounded magical! Except... Clem hummed to herself as he produced money, and grabbed for her own wallet to muster up her contribution for a tip. As she did, she considered what was around, mapping it out through a hazy fog. When she hopped down from the stool, using the bar top to keep herself upright, she held up a finger, "There's no ramen around." She admitted with a little frown, "But theres a pho place on the next block over." Did that work? Pho was like ramen, kind of. Noodles!
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#32
 A thoughtful hum would escape him as he slid out of his seat onto his feet. A little lightheaded for a few moments there. Once he was sure he was a bit more balanced he'd settle on flashing her a brief grin. "I think that'll work." He was not super experienced with the world of pho but it always sort of looked the same. Couldn't be hugely different.

 "Lead the way, Madame Tour Guide" He'd hum with contentment. It wasn't like he had any clue where this place was. Maybe he could just look it up but ew! That required work and not focusing on the cute woman who decided he must look cute drunk too. Glasses needed to be put on though. Even if it was dark out. They'd just be safer on his face instead of his shirt.
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#33
It had to work because that was their options! Well, there was pizza and sushi, but pho sounded really good, so that's all the options she gave him. And, as was her job description, she was made to lead the way. What a funny man, Bastien was. He used French sporadically, and wore sunglasses indoors and at night. Was it just things that made him feel cool? Guess who didn't have a filter to keep her from asking! That's right! Her!

So when they stepped into the cold night air, she glanced to him with a numb smile, compromising how purposeful her path was. "Hey so like... are you french or do you just know some french words?" It could be argued that french people knew some french words, but that wasn't what she was asking!
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#34
 It was easy to stroll along in the cold, didn't think much of anything. Food was just at the front of his mind. Although her question definitely caused his brain to apply a bit more power to actually thinking. "I'm french. My mother was very french and tried to get me to use the language more. Doesn't stick much when you don't use it much outside of home." A slight wave of his hand as if it dismiss it all. "You not a fan of it?" He questioned with a quirked brow. Wouldn't be offended, just wanted to know.
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#35
Oooh, that made sense. A foreign parent, trying to teach her kid some of her language. Made sense that it didn't stick. And maybe he just liked using the words or something! The question warranted a scoff, falsely offended at the assumption, "I didn't say that! It's nice." She assured him, "They say thats the sexiest language, you know?" Her gate being less than streamline, she did managed to bump into him a bit, arm and shoulder brushing. She had the urge to cling to him as they moved, but maybe that would be too much or something.
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#36
 He laughed a little, leaned back into her touch enough for it to hopefully be noticeable but not overbearing. "Is that so, mon chou?" It was a term of endearment he had heard been used with a funny enough meaning behind it. He wanted it to settle in for a moment before he provided some light to it. Although his smirk might give away his amusement with it already. "I called you a cabbage. Or a sweet pastry. Take your pick." A slight tease as he offered her another bump. Sort of lingered closer to her this time. "Still find it sexy?" He braced for perhaps even being pushed away from her side for his little joke.
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#37
Hey, see, it kind of was pretty hot. Just in one of those mysterious exotic ways. Clem giggled at it, grinning questioningly. There was no telling what it meant, she didn't have a clue... until he told her. Cabbage! Or! Pastry! What even! Another laugh, more genuine this time as he pressed into her. The wolf made a low sound in the back of her mind, but it was just friendly bumping wolf, chill! "A double meaning, huh! Mysterious... yeah, that's totally sexy." She decided with a squint of her eyes, parting her lips into an exaggeratedly enticed smile.
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#38
 He let out perhaps the most authentic, longest rumble of laughter he'd let out in a long time. "Look...I love flattery as much as the next dude but now you're just lying." An overly dramatic scoff escaped him and soon followed a roll of his eyes. "No one finds being called a cabbage sexy or mysterious." That was just his honest opinion on it all. Maybe she was into some weird stuff, though!
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#39
Hey that was a nice laugh there buddy! She laughed, too, mirroring it. He doubted her, and called her a liar, and it was good that she was lying or else maybe she would feel actually shamed. "Heeey, maybe I think cabbages are sexy, Bastien." She chided all the same, her hands actually coming up to grab at his arm then and tug gently, "Its 2020, you know you're not supposed to shame people for things their into." Still joking! Hopefully he got that and didn't actually think she wanted to fuck a cabbage!
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#40
 His face would thoughtfully scrunch up at that, noted the tugging on his arm. "Heeeyyy, wait a second." Drawn out like this required all of his brain. Mainly because it sort of did! "If I'm calling you a cabbage...wouldn't that mean that I find cabbages sexy?" A smirk settled onto his face as he looked over at her, definitely not focused on where they were supposed to be going. Food was kind of forgotten for now.
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#41
He turned them over to another facet of the convoluted logic that was this conversation, but she grasped onto something that spread her grin wide, like fish hooks pulling at the corners of her mouth. Her head tilted from side to side, eyelashes batting as she shimmied her shoulders just so, "Are youuu saying you think I'm sexy." She questioned. Their path was leading them to the end of the block, where she knew they had to turn, but would have definitely forgotten were it not for a cross walk that she knew she definitely didn't need to cross.
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#42
 It was easy to let the long hum roll out from him. Build the anticipation to his likely lackluster answer. Well, she actually seemed to enjoy all the dumb things he had to say. So perhaps he was actually building real suspense. "Only if I can call you mon chou and it means cabbage for you." A tilt of his head as he waited her answer. On top of that he'd aim to carefully wrap an arm over her shoulders, ready to pull back if she deemed that unwell, though.
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#43
Clem snorted, probably not attractively, but oh well she was drunk! "You can call me anything you want," She assured him, and leaned into his arm as it wrapped around him, her own snaking around his waist. "Can I call you Sunglassessssss," She joked, her free arm moving to she could poke at the bottom rim of one of the lenses.
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#44
 His face scrunch as she poked the rim of his glasses. It was an odd sensation! That shouldn't become his focus, though. "I don't think that's as sexy as cabbage buuut I think I can accept it." A small nod of approval. It was pretty nice to have her this close. A warm body and friendly face. This whole evening was shaping up to be wonderful. Even if he had the rosy glasses of alcohol on.

 "So, like, we drank a bit." Sort of an underestimate on her end although he stopped counting how many she might have had. "You gonna get home safe? I don't know if pho...sops it all up or whatever." A wave of his free hand.
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#45
Sunglasses and Cabbage. What a duo! Her hand dropped from his face as she grinned, moving to swing at her side as she remembered to guide them around the corner. As they rounded it, he brought up how the night was going to end. "I think maybe after eating I'll be good. I'll get an Uber." Or maybe by the time they'd eaten and everything, the high of the alcohol would be faded. "How about you?" She questioned.
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#46
 Smart and responsible. He could admire that and appreciate it. It would let his good mood not dip knowing that she had a safe way to go. "Oh yeah, I'm a champ at this. Crash in my car for the night if it's still too bad." A shrug of one shoulder. No biggie. "Enough about me being a bum." Despite their already close proximity he'd sort of offer her a joyful bump. "Tell me how you order this pho stuff, mon chou." He hated not knowing how or what to order before he went in somewhere.
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#47
In his car!!! What!!!

Clem gawked at him as he just casually tried to change the subject, but that was not okay!! "But waaaaiiitttt." She protested, batting at his chest, "No, you gotta getta... an-anuber." Worlds were hard to articulate when she was panicking. She was panicking because it was important that he didn't end up sleeping in his car!
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