Post by Laura on Sept 5, 2011 21:32:46 GMT
{name:Declan#|#picture:4}"Done," Declan replied with a nod. He'd have no problems holding up his end of this bargain. Looking at Rochelle and thinking of what they'd shared in such a brief quantity of time, he knew that he wanted to get to know her better. An anxious thought scurried through his mind - what if they couldn't recapture the same camaraderie that had sprung up between them today? Declan admonished himself for it. He could worry about that the next time he saw Rochelle.
He might not have been completely honest with himself. The real difficulty, he knew, lay in picking up the phone and calling her. It was all well and good to say, he'd do it, now, when he was still with the girl; it was another another thing entirely when days had passed since their encounter and doubt would be corrupting his memories of it. Declan could say right now that his shyness was firmly in check, but with the passing of time he'd be eyeing his mobile as if it was likely to bite at any moment. It didn't help that he never knew what to say to people over the phone.
You've met a girl that's nice, normal and that for some reason, likes you too. Are you really going to let something like a poxy phone call hold you back? ...At least Declan figured she must like him; she was still here for one thing and she was making deals that would as an end result have them meeting up again. The last thing he was going to do was let his aversion to telephone conversations stand in the way of progress.
All the same, it was time for them to part ways. "Next time I'm plotting an excursion, I'll be sure to give you a shout. Unless it involves rackets. Though, if you haven't given badminton a try, it's a very different game. Chalk to tennis's cheese - and I'd go easy on you."
Declan grinned at his gentle jibe. It was a bit of a bluff - he wasn't much better that mediocre at either racket sport - but Rochelle hinting at her dislike for the game had piqued his interest. He'd have to ask her where that had sprung from, sometime. Just another reason for him to pick up the phone.
Shifting away from her, Declan began the separation process. "I should let you get home and tend to those injuries properly," he stated, scratching his head. "Last thing you need is an infection. I best be off too..."
He hated how it had started to sound like a brush off. Declan knew he was in a roundabout way trying to bring the conversation in the direction of saying goodbye, but he didn't want to sound like a complete jerk while he was at it. Nor did he want Rochelle to think him one. "What I'm trying to say is, there's only so long that we can both stand here not moving and pretending we're not heading in different directions."
He considered himself an honest person, but not a particularly blunt one. That last sentence was fairly uncharacteristic for Declan. Even as he was saying it, he was wincing. "I didn't mean- Look, I'm going about this really badly, but both of us are kind of looking forward to getting home now. Not that I'm trying to, well, get away from you or anything. But, erm... you get me."
Ruing his habit of over-talking when nervous, Declan bit his tongue and tried to gauge Rochelle's reaction and response to that. He really hoped his eyes would convey the thoughts his words had miserably failed to deliver.
He might not have been completely honest with himself. The real difficulty, he knew, lay in picking up the phone and calling her. It was all well and good to say, he'd do it, now, when he was still with the girl; it was another another thing entirely when days had passed since their encounter and doubt would be corrupting his memories of it. Declan could say right now that his shyness was firmly in check, but with the passing of time he'd be eyeing his mobile as if it was likely to bite at any moment. It didn't help that he never knew what to say to people over the phone.
You've met a girl that's nice, normal and that for some reason, likes you too. Are you really going to let something like a poxy phone call hold you back? ...At least Declan figured she must like him; she was still here for one thing and she was making deals that would as an end result have them meeting up again. The last thing he was going to do was let his aversion to telephone conversations stand in the way of progress.
All the same, it was time for them to part ways. "Next time I'm plotting an excursion, I'll be sure to give you a shout. Unless it involves rackets. Though, if you haven't given badminton a try, it's a very different game. Chalk to tennis's cheese - and I'd go easy on you."
Declan grinned at his gentle jibe. It was a bit of a bluff - he wasn't much better that mediocre at either racket sport - but Rochelle hinting at her dislike for the game had piqued his interest. He'd have to ask her where that had sprung from, sometime. Just another reason for him to pick up the phone.
Shifting away from her, Declan began the separation process. "I should let you get home and tend to those injuries properly," he stated, scratching his head. "Last thing you need is an infection. I best be off too..."
He hated how it had started to sound like a brush off. Declan knew he was in a roundabout way trying to bring the conversation in the direction of saying goodbye, but he didn't want to sound like a complete jerk while he was at it. Nor did he want Rochelle to think him one. "What I'm trying to say is, there's only so long that we can both stand here not moving and pretending we're not heading in different directions."
He considered himself an honest person, but not a particularly blunt one. That last sentence was fairly uncharacteristic for Declan. Even as he was saying it, he was wincing. "I didn't mean- Look, I'm going about this really badly, but both of us are kind of looking forward to getting home now. Not that I'm trying to, well, get away from you or anything. But, erm... you get me."
Ruing his habit of over-talking when nervous, Declan bit his tongue and tried to gauge Rochelle's reaction and response to that. He really hoped his eyes would convey the thoughts his words had miserably failed to deliver.