( an open post #1 )

[charmlessness]

you know the rules. pick a muse. post a photo / some words / some lyrics / a link to a song, etc, with a character of your choosing. profit.

Comments

[clearasil]

Oh.

[ That at least gets a half-smile to form on her face. That was incredibly ... earnest. Something she isn't accustomed to, honestly. ]

I don't pay attention to sports. [ Normally, that would be the comment to shut down any further conversation, but she says it almost apologetically, in response to his compliments. ] I'm just - it's just practice, that's all. It's not perfect.

[mccalls]

[ Well, that's gotta be a good sign, right? She hasn't asked him to leave outright, and he even seemed to make her semi-happy just by being honest with her.

So instead of saying goodbye and getting back to the field like he should do, he takes a few more steps forward. He lifts his shoulders in a shrug and tilts his head, looking at the piano.

He literally could not find something more out of his element even if he tried. Too delicate, too intricate. ]

Could've fooled me. If that's not perfect, it's gotta be pretty close. [ He smiles again, looking back at her, now. ] But I also can't play at all, so what do I know.

[clearasil]

[ Okay, handsome, friendly athlete talking to the pianist with the scowling resting face. She tries not to look so dour today, even turning around on the bench to look at him. ]

Believe me, I've got ... a lot of work to do. [ She holds her hands up, shrugging herself. Conversation. How do you continue a conversation when you're so used to being alone with your own thoughts? ]

I can't play -- uh, whatever you play, so. I guess we're even or something.

[mccalls]

[ Someone as good as she is, continually putting herself down? Scott frowns a bit and shakes his head. He's not having any of this. ] Well, then you're going to be fantastic.

[ Even or something? Not even a little bit. ] Yeah, maybe, but anyone could learn to play lacrosse. A few practices and you get the gist of things. [ He motions at the piano. ] I think that's a little different. Takes talent and years of hard work.

[clearasil]

[ Sometimes she thinks about going out for the swim team here to maybe add it to her college applications, if anything. Show that she's a well-rounded student. After transferring in, in the middle of last year, maybe she's more settled now. ]

Don't you need to get back to lacrosse practice or something?

[ Which sounds mean, but she doesn't intend for it to come out that way, so she quickly amends: ] I mean, you shouldn't get in trouble.

[mccalls]

[ She's right, he should be getting back to lacrosse practice. So why Scott shrugs his shoulders and takes another step forward (while making sure to stay a safe distance away, just in case she had a larger ... bubble than others) instead is entirely beyond him. ]

I guess, but— [ He'd rather stay here. ] —they'll be okay without me for a while.

[ That's assuming that she even wants him to stick around, and he's not entirely sure about that.

Raising an eyebrow and grinning, he nods back at the door. ]

Unless you want to get back to your playing. I can go if you'd like. [ That sounds a bit like he's guilt tripping her into letting him stay, and that's not his intention at all. Hopefully she catches on. ] I don't want to distract you.

[clearasil]

[ Natalie looks at him through a narrowed gaze, her lip curling into a half grin as she considers him. ]

I can't tell if you're giving up or if you want to be more persistent, [ she observes out loud, snorting to herself as she turns around on the piano bench again, letting her fingers dance up the keys in a light trill. ]

You ever learn how to play "Heart and Soul?" [ But before he can answer, Natalie starts playing both parts easily, a jaunty, easy tune. She points her elbow to the empty spot next to her on the bench. ]