kind of easy to say when your entire wardrobe is... well, yours
( simple for dick grayson still managed to gleam with elegance — she'd learned so much on the night she'd met him, a regal hum of a gala whose hush made it still manage to feel comfortable, despite the crowd. his reply doesn't really help her any, tossing another article to the side with a huff as she's left standing in front of an array of creams and blacks that practically glare back at her. )
Simple and nice. Not pretentious. ( she repeats the words back to herself in a mumble, chewing at the edge of her thumb before her gaze catches at a gleam of burgundy, shifting a few coats out of the way to tug out the dress. she'd never worn it — delivered to her along with countless others to choose by stark when an event had called for it. it's soft as a breath, satin gently shimmering as she holds it to her chest, propping a knee to survey where it'd fall. )
[ so maybe he doesn’t know how this part works either—the whole telling his date what to wear part. the phone buzzes on a shelf of the walk-in-closet as he does up the buttons on the dress shirt, leaving the top one casually undone as he turns to text her back. ]
Seriously, don’t overthink it. It’s just you and I and I’m already fully impressed.
[ the charcoal dress shirt gets matched with perfectly tailored black trousers and black leather shoes. he doesn’t dress up often, doesn’t enjoy the dressing up part of events, but when they both seem to be on the same page about these things, it feels a little better. ]
A half hour, but I can push it to 45min if you’re ok with speeding. Just no teleporting tonight.
( maybe if the two of them heeded that advice more often — don't overthink it — they'd be much better off, but it's not exactly par for either of their personalities. there's always a flurry of thoughts that follows her, worries glooming overhead. she hadn't always been that way. she likes to think he's made her a little lighter, over time. irregardless, it isn't missed to her that this wasn't something she needed to fret over.
it was something simple. intimate, just for the two of them. they didn't get those evenings very often, and so with a huff of a breath she lets her tension dissolve, lingering a little in the entryway to her closet with a blooming smirk. )
why do i get the feeling you want me to push it just so you have the excuse? ( she can make a half hour work, laying the dress at the foot of her bed and thumbing off one last message before she's peeling layers off— )
i'll be ready. ( purposefully vague — to speed or not to speed, she'll let him decide. )
[ he speeds. of course he speeds, because though time has forced a certain realism into him, the adrenaline rush is never something he can turn down. His vehicle of choice for the night is a sleek maserati that doesn't allow him to weave through the heavy downtown traffic, so he peels through the side streets, weaves through the shoulders until he pulls to a stop in front of her apartment in twenty-eight minutes. it's not a record, but considering he left a little late too, he thinks it's pretty good. considering he's done everything he can think of to make sure they can have this, he thinks it's safe to feel this way. a sigh tempers the smile on his face as he shoots her a text, feeling the quiet purr of the engine temper to a stop. ]
Ready when you are.
[ the adrenaline helps calm the flutter he feels in the pit of his stomach, the same one that surfaces whenever his thoughts land on her. they're held together by a thin string, one that's been stretched, that's frayed, that they've seen snap and have knotted back together. he remembers their discussion about fear, too, and how he told her he's no longer scared of fear, no longer runs from it, but they both know how he is when it comes to her, how terrified he is at the thought of losing her.
the adrenaline helps keep that at bay, and so does the brewing excitement of having this night to themselves. just the two of them. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
( simple for dick grayson still managed to gleam with elegance — she'd learned so much on the night she'd met him, a regal hum of a gala whose hush made it still manage to feel comfortable, despite the crowd. his reply doesn't really help her any, tossing another article to the side with a huff as she's left standing in front of an array of creams and blacks that practically glare back at her. )
Simple and nice. Not pretentious. ( she repeats the words back to herself in a mumble, chewing at the edge of her thumb before her gaze catches at a gleam of burgundy, shifting a few coats out of the way to tug out the dress. she'd never worn it — delivered to her along with countless others to choose by stark when an event had called for it. it's soft as a breath, satin gently shimmering as she holds it to her chest, propping a knee to survey where it'd fall. )
what time will you be here?
no subject
Seriously, don’t overthink it. It’s just you and I and I’m already fully impressed.
[ the charcoal dress shirt gets matched with perfectly tailored black trousers and black leather shoes. he doesn’t dress up often, doesn’t enjoy the dressing up part of events, but when they both seem to be on the same page about these things, it feels a little better. ]
A half hour, but I can push it to 45min if you’re ok with speeding. Just no teleporting tonight.
no subject
it was something simple. intimate, just for the two of them. they didn't get those evenings very often, and so with a huff of a breath she lets her tension dissolve, lingering a little in the entryway to her closet with a blooming smirk. )
why do i get the feeling you want me to push it just so you have the excuse? ( she can make a half hour work, laying the dress at the foot of her bed and thumbing off one last message before she's peeling layers off— )
i'll be ready. ( purposefully vague — to speed or not to speed, she'll let him decide. )
no subject
Ready when you are.
[ the adrenaline helps calm the flutter he feels in the pit of his stomach, the same one that surfaces whenever his thoughts land on her. they're held together by a thin string, one that's been stretched, that's frayed, that they've seen snap and have knotted back together. he remembers their discussion about fear, too, and how he told her he's no longer scared of fear, no longer runs from it, but they both know how he is when it comes to her, how terrified he is at the thought of losing her.
the adrenaline helps keep that at bay, and so does the brewing excitement of having this night to themselves. just the two of them. ]