When she suggested a new date the man's head drops like a stone to the table with a heavy thump. When it rose he took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm sorry, I must have sounded like an idiot, you have reading to do. The pursuit of knowledge comes at no expense to the social life." He knew that one from experience. Still, four hands rose to work his long wavy hair into a waist length braid, something to occupy his many hands. The other two lifted one of the journals he had been reading.
"I suppose I can wait, though excuse me if I count the days." With the book opened before him, he made his first attempt at seduction... "Tis anticipation which churns the storms that send waves crashing. A glorious ship wrapped and rocked by six waves can only handle so much before washing ashore to an isle of bliss." That was shyte! Too much flash, not enough swoon! he hissed inwardly at himself for his clumsy tongue. He was a writer, not a poet, but the recent discovery of it had made everything seem so much... better...
It was only after he had finished his statement and scolding thought that he glanced over her expression. Was she analyzing him? Like a painter and her muse. Was he the muse? Being taken apart by the eye for flaws? At least she wouldn't have to look too hard. With another deep breath he finally calmed his pessimistic mind and brought out the twin which he most preferred. As his eyes drift to the book he never really saw the words. Instead he was concocting scenarios of the day to come... Most of which would have had him grinning ear to ear, but he controls himself for a small, pleasant smile.
