[Perhaps it's because he's unfettered by any one or anything right now that it seems like perfect logic to just go on a date with a girl, to try and kindle something. They're both young, life is going to change one way or the other. Something bout the curve of her smile and her blue eyes along with knowing from the start she could put him in his place.]
[Because right now she's pretty close to a stupor and it's very becoming. Frank is going through his manicotti at a decent pace. Now he's wishing he asked for bread though to sop up that sauce.]
[There's a all too smug and self-assured grin at this. Frank bobs his head and tries to hide his grin behind his glass. Too fucking late there.]
And that there is a crying shame.
[While he would like to fully indulge in the idea of what she looks like with her hair feathered across his pillow, there's still the evening before them.]
[ Now it's her turn to try and hide her grin behind her glass, her words both echoed and muffled into the wine glass as she takes another sip, ]
Good.
[ And while she thinks he's cute as can be when he grins, she can't really allow herself to dwell on that. Or wanting to know if maybe he could be one of those guys to actually deliver in the bedroom. ]
So when was the last time you came on up to a guy and criticized him? ...before me?
[Because they can't just sit and stare at each other in the meanwhile. Pretty picture she is. Frank can tell there's a lot going on behind those blue blue eyes.]
[ She laughs again, finally leaning forward again to set her glass down and rest her arms on the table, ]
Before you? Earlier this week in my British Lit class. He wanted to try and say Desdemona got what she deserved and I ripped him a new one, much to the professor's amusement and annoyance.
Oh, he kept saying he was "just joking" after the fact. Like that made it any better. But no, he was definitely serious when he first said it. Saying she shouldn't have been acting so "friendly" to other men if she was married. All that bullshit.
What a fucking bozo. She was raised as a lady of the court and if I'm remembering right didn't she not have a living mother? Of course she would socialize freely with men. Not like there was real canoodling. Fuck.
[Yeah. Frank isn't a fan either.]
I'm sure your professor appreciated being the one to hang back for the time.
I'm not sure if I feel worse for Desdemona or for Ophelia. Both of em were royally fucked over because of society but also because nobody asked em what they wanted.
[Getting a little lost in the sauce is only enriching this experience. Frank's glass is empty regretfully.]
The setting is always, always intentional in Shakespeare.
[ She nods at his words and actually goes to clink her glass to his in a toast when she notices his is empty. She waves a waiter over and asks for refills on their drinks, downing the rest of hers as they wait. ]
Exactly.
[ She adds, belatedly. ]
Starting to think you should've been an English major, too.
Not so sure what the hell I'd do after. I mean, you know what you want to do.
[However vague.]
I might go back to school when all is said and done.
[Because he's not going to be going to war for the rest of his life. Right? Now that his glass is full again he sips on the wine. Trying to pace himself here.]
Yeah well. Life can really lead you places, you know? You think you got it all figure out and something. I always get warnings like that from parentals. Comes with the territory I suppose.
[Frank shifts in his seat. Damn that all was so fucking good.]
Besides, I dunno if I'd trust myself being in the same classroom as a clown that tries to blame a lady for circumstances. Plain stupid and rude are always a challenge to my temper.
[ She waits until the waiter leaves before answering him, taking up her glass again. ]
Nothing's worse than decisions being made for us.
[ Her tone is more somber, carries the weight of experience before she takes another swallow of wine. She doesn't need to think about her brother right now. Doesn't want to. ]
[The whole mood is brought to the brink of an indistinct precipice that their brief relationship so far is not yet ready to traverse. Frank knows when to back off. Now is a good time time to do that.]
It's all part of developing into a person you're meant to be.
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Trial. Error. ...family secrets probably.
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I bet.
[ She leans back in her chair, savoring her last bite and taking up her glass of wine. She licks her lips after swallowing, ]
Pretty sure that was better than sex.
[ And then follows more wine. ]
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[Because right now she's pretty close to a stupor and it's very becoming. Frank is going through his manicotti at a decent pace. Now he's wishing he asked for bread though to sop up that sauce.]
....better? Not as good as?
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I wanted dessert, too.
[ That tiramisu cake is hers, okay. ]
No, that was definitely better.
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[Need he talk up how delicious that is?]
Damn, Karen. Who hurt you?
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Look, it's not my fault guys are all talk and no show.
[ At least the ones that tried to talk her up. ]
And we can wait if you don't mind waiting...Can I take the bread home, too?
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And that there is a crying shame.
[While he would like to fully indulge in the idea of what she looks like with her hair feathered across his pillow, there's still the evening before them.]
I'm right where I want to be. We can wait.
[Bread again. Heh.]
Yes, you can take the bread home.
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Good.
[ And while she thinks he's cute as can be when he grins, she can't really allow herself to dwell on that. Or wanting to know if maybe he could be one of those guys to actually deliver in the bedroom. ]
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[Because they can't just sit and stare at each other in the meanwhile. Pretty picture she is. Frank can tell there's a lot going on behind those blue blue eyes.]
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Before you? Earlier this week in my British Lit class. He wanted to try and say Desdemona got what she deserved and I ripped him a new one, much to the professor's amusement and annoyance.
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[Frank's whole face scrunches like he smells something awful.]
Jesus Christ.
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[ She rolls her eyes, disgust all in her tone. ]
I wanted to punch him in his dick. Asshole.
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[Yeah. Frank isn't a fan either.]
I'm sure your professor appreciated being the one to hang back for the time.
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Yeah, exactly! Finally, someone that knows how to frame characters in the context of the setting.
[ Even when she's getting tipsy she can still talk about literature.
The sign of a true English major.]no subject
[Getting a little lost in the sauce is only enriching this experience. Frank's glass is empty regretfully.]
The setting is always, always intentional in Shakespeare.
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Exactly.
[ She adds, belatedly. ]
Starting to think you should've been an English major, too.
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[And music. And really wants to serve his country. This is Frank Castle. He chuckles at her call for a refill.]
Thank you, but I dunno about that. I'm shit at essays.
[Of course there's more going on to him the same as Karen.]
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You can learn to write a good essay. Do your citations right, follow the MLA format, blah blah.
[ She then wrinkles her nose, ]
I don't like doing them, either.
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[However vague.]
I might go back to school when all is said and done.
[Because he's not going to be going to war for the rest of his life. Right? Now that his glass is full again he sips on the wine. Trying to pace himself here.]
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Yeah. It's a possibility. If that's what you want to do.
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[Frank shifts in his seat. Damn that all was so fucking good.]
Besides, I dunno if I'd trust myself being in the same classroom as a clown that tries to blame a lady for circumstances. Plain stupid and rude are always a challenge to my temper.
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Yeah, well, I'm determined to forge my path the way I want it. Anything that gets in my way... needs to look the fuck out.
[ She giggles at the end of that, reaching up to cover her mouth as the waiter came back at that time to refill their glasses right as she says that.
She offers a weak 'sorry'. ]
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Hey. You gotta do what you gotta do. We're only here once.
[Which is another way to perfectly legitimize every decision from here on out.]
Why would anything try and stop you?
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Nothing's worse than decisions being made for us.
[ Her tone is more somber, carries the weight of experience before she takes another swallow of wine. She doesn't need to think about her brother right now. Doesn't want to. ]
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[The whole mood is brought to the brink of an indistinct precipice that their brief relationship so far is not yet ready to traverse. Frank knows when to back off. Now is a good time time to do that.]
It's all part of developing into a person you're meant to be.
[He lightly clears his throat.]
How're you feeling about dessert now?
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