every other lover in this city [anya]

[spencer]

Spencer leaned on the rustic metal gate that surrounded the tiny Italian bistro wedged in between a book store and a tailor. His attention was focused on his iPhone, which created a bright glow that illuminated the features of his face. Spencer wasn’t actually doing anything important on the phone, just pretending to be immersed in something so he could keep his mind off of the present and also feel less awkward just standing outside by himself – killing two birds with one stone.

He was not nearly as nervous as he would be if they hadn’t met in the dance room earlier. They’d parted ways after the music and dancing session so Anya could change and Spencer could… well, ‘freak out’ was probably the closest to the truth. He had spent the last hour or so in his room trying to decide if this girl was actually going on a date with him or if she thought they were just getting dinner as friends or if he was just dreaming it all altogether. Spencer wasn’t great at talking to people in that sort of way. He wanted to be liked and even more than that wanted to avoid any potentially awkward conversations, so if he had to deal with not knowing where his relationship was with this girl, he was okay with that.

The restaurant was very small (Willowbrook was a tiny town, anyway) and had a very quaint, cozy feel. A string of lights were strung up around the outdoor eating area, surrounding the small, two-person metal tables. Each table had a candle on it, but none were lit yet as the sun had only begun setting. Spencer was glad for that; candles, on top of the flowery vine crawling up the wall of the building, and the ambient lighting, and the vest-wearing waiters… yeah, candles might push the cheesy romance meter right off the edge.

The boy wasn’t wearing anything especially fancy… though some would say his usual garb was more formal than the average teenager: he normally stuck to collared shirts and rolled up sleeves, always pants no matter the heat, and a clean pair of casual sneakers. Today he looked the same, not wanting to make the night seem extra formal for fear of weirding Anya out. He nervously looked up from his phone and down the street to see if she was coming, then brought his hand up to flatten his hair, and finally he fiddled with his sleeve to make sure the roll wasn’t wrinkled. He was entirely unable to pick his stomach up from its spot at his feet. Even Spencer realized the ridiculousness of his actions—he was nineteen, he should probably stop getting so apprehensive in these situations.


(ooc: lemme know if you want me to change any of this!)

[kiipcha]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd500/Kiipcha/oceanbreezebg-1.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 407 // outfit // click here // tagged // Spencer spread your wings AND LET YOUR FEATHERS TOUCH THE SKY Haven't I crossed that store before? That sign looks way too familiar. Thoughts of stress pounded Anya's brain as she rushed around street corners. She swore that she was going around in circles after passing the same stores about three times. Served her right for telling the taxi driver he was driving too fast. It was becoming more and more obvious that if the driver hadn't dropped her off at a location far off from the restaurant he had surely stopped a couple blocks away from her destination. Finally on the edge of frustration, Anya stopped a passing bystander to ask for directions. "Excuse me? Can you tell me where Luigi's Ristorante is?" Man was she bad at saying italian words. It was pretty difficult for her with her Russian tone to even attempt taking on another strong accent. The frizzy haired woman mumbled her response, "Next block up." Anya wasn't sure whether the lady was telling the truth or if she just wanted the red haired student to go away. She decided to take a chance and follow the directions she was so hastily given. After walking down the next block she took a look around, praying that she was in the right place. Her brown eyes finally found the red sign belonging to the desired restaurant. She took in all the beautiful lights and atmosphere of the place, relieved that she would have a chance to eat there with the pianist. Outside of the italian eatery stood the dark haired boy with his face dimly lit up by his phone. Without any hesitation the girl trotted over, trying to fix her hair as she did. At least she had taken the time to actually straighten it today. Had she not commented on the taxi driver's technique then it would have looked a little closer to how it did when she left her dorm room. But she would have to make do with what she was given. Approaching the older teen a smile appeared on her face despite her little ordeal, "Hey Spencer." She gave him a quick hug, in hopes of breaking some sort of physical barrier that tended to start out with most people she met. "I'm never taking a taxi again." The Russian girl laughed softly, though completely serious about not taking a taxi. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she gestured towards the restaurant's door, "Ready to go in?" notes // None

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[spencer]

Her soft steps could be heard down the sidewalk, but Spencer waited until he could tell they were closer before he picked his gaze up from his phone and slid it into his pocket. His anxious expression broke out into a smile as he met her greeting with a similar, ”Hey.” Though it caught him a bit by surprise, Anya’s hug was warm and welcoming. He used that feeling to shoo away some of the butterflies in his stomach. Very briefly looking her over, it was hard not to notice the Russian girl’s hair. Sleek and red, it fell down to the girl’s waist, reflecting the shine from the lights hung up around the restaurant. She was gorgeous. It baffled Spencer how he kept managing to find such beautiful girls.

”Wow, your hair is so… long.” Nice one, Casanova. He nearly kicked himself, but instead opted to break out into laughter at his poor choice of adjective. Spencer shook his head and tried to clarify. ”I mean, I only see you with it up, when you dance, you know. I’ll stop,” he cut off his ramblings but was unable to rip the grin off his lips. Hopefully that was the last stupid thing he’d utter tonight.

She gestured toward the door and the boy nodded. ”Oh, yeah,” he smiled and began walking up the short cobbled path to the entrance. ”I didn’t want to go in and be sitting alone at a table like a loser… so, I guess I decided I’d rather be a loser outside.” He laughed softly and opened the door for her to go through. As they went in, the noise and bustle hit his ears, and he talked to the restaurant host behind the podium. The man grabbed two spiral-bound menus and lead them back the way they’d came, to the outdoor dining area. When he brought them to the table in the corner, Spencer was a little annoyed that the waiter had pulled out Anya’s chair for her. He wanted to do that. The waiter introduced his name and performed the same spiel any waiter trying to make good tips would, before he set down the menus and took his leave.

Spencer pulled his in, eager to not have any lull in the conversation, and asked, ”What happened with the taxi, now? Did you manage to get lost when we’re only a few minutes’ drive from campus?” His tone was teasing.

[kiipcha]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd500/Kiipcha/oceanbreezebg-1.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 541 // outfit // click here // tagged // Spencer spread your wings AND LET YOUR FEATHERS TOUCH THE SKY Her heart started to race as they hugged. Even though she had initiated the act that wasn't stopping Anya from feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside. They pulled back from the hug, the younger teen struggling to not let a huge smile appear on her face. ”Wow, your hair is so… long.” She stroked a lock of her hair and blushed at the compliment. Or at least it sounded like a compliment. It was such a basic observation that Anya wasn't exactly sure what how to classify it. ”I mean, I only see you with it up, when you dance, you know. I’ll stop,” The younger teen laughed as he tried to stop himself from rambling. "I understand what you mean Spencer. And I'm going to assume that that was a compliment." She smiled up at him, still glad to be in his nervous company. ”I didn’t want to go in and be sitting alone at a table like a loser… so, I guess I decided I’d rather be a loser outside.” Her hand rested on his shoulder, the slightest physical contact making her tingle. "You aren't a loser, and it was nice of you to wait for me." Her hand lingered but soon she reluctantly removed it from his shoulder. They walked up the short pathway to the door, and Spencer politely held it open for the Russian girl. The redhead grinned back at the nineteen year old, and stepped inside the restaurant. Ahead of them stood a podium, the host leaning over it as he looked over the guest list. Spencer talked to the man and they were soon being led to an outdoors table. Anya was now able to get a better view of the outdoors area, taking in the candles that were yet to be lit and the flowery vines that grew up along the wall. It was quite beautiful, a perfect place to spend a hopefully perfect night. After the two teens had been seated they glanced over some of the dinner choices. The sixteen year old had only had Italian food a few times, but based on what she had tasted before Anya had already deemed it delicious. Now if only she could pronounce some of the names. ”What happened with the taxi, now? Did you manage to get lost when we’re only a few minutes’ drive from campus?” She smirked a little at his teasing words. "Well, I haven't really used taxi transportation before and I forgot to fill up my car with gas so I didn't have much of a choice. But nobody told me that they drive so darn fast. So I sort of told him that he was driving a little on the fast side." Her exact words were, 'Do you want us to crash!?' but to Anya's defense he had taken off at the exact moment she said the restaurant's name and it had scared the living daylights out of her. "And apparently taxi drivers don't like criticism so he dropped me off a couple of blocks away from the restaurant. I ended up getting a little lost." It wasn't her most glorious moment, but she tried her best to keep a light humor about the whole situation. notes // None

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[spencer]

Her hand on his shoulder managed to convince him finally that yes, this girl must like him. There was no reason for her to do that except to make physical contact. Right? Could he finally let some of his insecurities about this go?

As if his thoughts had been heard (and then amusedly rejected) the waiter came around and began lighting the candles at all the tables. A flame erupted at the middle of the table, dousing Spencer and Anya’s faces in a delightfully warm golden hue, but Spencer stared at the candle with a prick of annoyance. No, apparently, he could not let his insecurities go just yet. Thanks for ramping up the ambience, waiter. The man then poured them both water into two tall, thin-necked glasses before making his leave.

The boy directed his attention back to Anya. ”Whoever knew Anya was a backseat driver,” Spencer joked, scrunching his nose at the redhead. ”Kind of an ass to drop you off like that though… But I think ‘being an ass’ is one of the job requirements,” the boy grinned. ”Your trip sounds more adventurous than my bus ride down here, at least.” Public transportation: the bane of his existence. Spencer didn’t have a car—not even at home, for he had never had a ‘real’ job and his parents didn’t believe in gifts like that—and so he was limited to the Willowbrook City bus which made a few stops up near Silas every day. Taxies weren’t quite his style.

He glanced over the colorful dishes on the menu before deciding what he wanted. Just as Spencer closed his menu, the waiter made his way back to their table—a white cloth towel draped over his arm, just like in the movies—and asked if they were ready to order. In question, Spence looked at Anya before mouthing off his dinner: some shrimp pasta and lasagna dish. He then waited for Anya’s reply and the waiter to leave before continuing on.

”It’s nice out though… so I was thinking maybe we could walk back to school when we’re done here?” Spencer raised his eyebrows at the girl in question, peering over the flicker of the candlelight. It was about a half hour walk, so nothing to terrible, especially for Anya, who was very obviously in shape (believe me, he had taken note while she danced). Plus, Spencer was hoping the walk would be… scenic.

[kiipcha]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd500/Kiipcha/oceanbreezebg-1.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 351 // outfit // click here // tagged // Spencer spread your wings AND LET YOUR FEATHERS TOUCH THE SKY ”Whoever knew Anya was a backseat driver,” The Russian girl laughed, sticking her tongue out at him. ”Kind of an ass to drop you off like that though… But I think ‘being an ass’ is one of the job requirements,” She nodded, taxi drivers never did seem to have a very friendly and happy outlook on things. However, Anya could have just been a bad passenger. The redhead soon dismissed her thought and agreed with Spencer's point of view. ”Your trip sounds more adventurous than my bus ride down here, at least.” Anya mentally kicked herself, having completely forgotten the option to take a bus. At least bus drivers didn't screech across the road like they were in a race. "No having to be a superhero on the bus? No saving the day with your ink ability?" She laughed, if he was going to make jokes she was going to tell some too. The waiter returned and took their orders. Spencer ordered the shrimp pasta and lasagna dish while Anya asked for the basic dish of spaghetti. Maybe she would try to eat a more complicated italian dish on another day. She didn't want to order something that ended up being awful and look like a spoiled brat by not eating it. Having ordered their food the two teens drifted back into a conversation. ”It’s nice out though… so I was thinking maybe we could walk back to school when we’re done here?” A smile crossed her lips, the candle light casting a nice glow over their faces. The various lights and outdoor eating had made everything so romantic, Anya just had to hope that Spencer had planned it to have that sort of result. "That sounds like fun. I'm in no rush to get back anyway." His hair had fallen across his eyes again during the conversation. She brushed the hair out of his eyes, careful not to burn herself on the candle flame. "Do I need to pin this up? I can't see your eyes because of it." Anya laughed, hoping that he wouldn't mind her touching him again. notes // None

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[spencer]

Spencer grinned when she joked about his bus ride. ”Ah, no, unfortunately… nobody needed the text on their papers muddled,” he said in a tone laced with a fake disappointment. Spencer’s mock sadness split into a light laugh upon coming up with an idea. ”Would’ve been cool if like a squid attacked the bus or something, then maybe I could’ve made it like… explode from the inside.”

The boy grinned as Anya confirmed his plans for walking home. There was just something about how she said she was in no rush to get back that made him feel giddy inside.

That giddiness faltered into surprise as Anya’s hand came up to his forehead. He was used to his hair falling in front of his eyes and hadn’t even noticed until Anya went to brush it out of the way, much like when they first met. His cheeks tinged pink and Spencer laughed at her words, a hint of nervousness seeping through. Spencer was going to have to get used to this. Anya really seemed to like her, and it was the oddest feeling. He kept making up excuses for her in his head, like maybe she was just friendly, or she liked him, but he was probably the only boy she knew anyway so that had to be why she was doing this.

There was a pause as he tried to think of something to say. ”Well… if you can’t see my eyes, that means I can’t see yours, and that’d be a shame,” Spencer smiled sweetly and shrugged at his cheesy compliment. Flickering candlelight, fancy table cloth, spotless wine glasses—he might as well embrace the ridiculous romantic atmosphere the restaurant gave off. He wouldn’t be surprised if That’s Amore started playing over the place’s speakers.

[kiipcha]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd500/Kiipcha/oceanbreezebg-1.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 421 // outfit // click here // tagged // Spencer spread your wings AND LET YOUR FEATHERS TOUCH THE SKY ”Ah, no, unfortunately… nobody needed the text on their papers muddled,” She put on a fake sympathetic look to go with his mockery disappointment. ”Would’ve been cool if like a squid attacked the bus or something, then maybe I could’ve made it like… explode from the inside.” A small laugh was emitted from her mouth and her sympathetic look was tossed away. "Well, I'm sure if a squid ever escapes from the nearest aquarium the town people will be sure to give super hero Spencer a call." Her hand made the shape of a telephone which she held up to her face as though she were going to call someone. She wondered what sort of super hero duties she could ever do. Probably something along the lines of rescuing a cat from a tree or a child from a burning building. There were probably many more things she could do, but she just hadn't thought of yet. Not like she would want to perform any super hero deeds to begin with, for acting like a super hero would cause people to look at her wings. The last thing she wanted to draw attention to were her wings and so far she had done a fairly good job at disguising them in the presence of normal people. Both of the students actually looked very normal to human eyes and she doubted anyone in the entire restaurant would be able to classify them as mutants without having them demonstrate their powers, something that Anya appreciated greatly. At her rather intimate gesture there was a pause of hesitation. She hoped that she hadn't crossed some sort of boundary and scared him. ”Well… if you can’t see my eyes, that means I can’t see yours, and that’d be a shame,” Anya breathed out a sigh of relief as Spencer responded. She wasn't only relieved but she was happy to have gotten such a sweet remark in return. His kind comment had actually left her feeling a little speech less, and all the dancer could do was smile softly. After a moment of silence Anya finally found herself some words to use. "Umm, so what else is there to know about you? You're sweet, exceptionally musically talented, and handsome." The Russian girl was happy that her voice hadn't faultered at the handsome part. "What else is there?" If he managed to tell her a bit of her history she found that she trusted him well enough to go into a little more detail about her own. notes // None

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[spencer]

The boy blushed yet again at Anya’s words. Sheesh, if she kept this up, he’d be as red as her hair by the end of the night. ”Ah—there you go, with the compliments again,” Spencer averted his gaze to the outside of the restaurant, his eyes travelling up the vine as he thought of what he could share about himself. It was moments like these that made him feel terribly boring. This whole situation was beginning to make him realize how many insecurities he had, and he made a mental note to work on that. God, he felt like some preteen girl who finally got her chance to talk to the school's coveted football player.

Awkwardly, he brought his arm up to scratch the back of his head, ruffling his hair up in the process. What else was there? His eyes fell on Anya, observing her before he thought of something to say. ”I mean, the music thing is a big part—“ figures, one of the more interesting parts of his life she already knew about, ”My uncle was in a bunch of odd little coffee shop or dive bar bands back in Seattle and when I was little I always wanted to be in one of them.” Too bad his uncle was still a druggie and alcoholic. But that wasn’t exactly something Spencer cared to share over dinner. ”So I started playing guitar… cause there’s not always a ton of demand for pianists or violinists, haha…”

”Other than that… I do a lot of homework, so, kind of boring. I tutor, and all that.” His words were rushed a bit though still sounded conversational, just added as an afterthought. Spencer really did spend most of his time on school, but unfortunately that wasn’t the best conversation fodder, nor was it something exceptionally interesting or guaranteed to impress a girl. If only he were more adventurous.

As his words silenced, the waiter came out with a tray covered in dishes of steaming hot food. They were placed down in front of Spencer and Anya, and Spencer was glad for something to take her attention away from him momentarily. His nose filled up with rich, garlic-y smells and he flipped his napkin out onto his lap before looking back up to the redhead. ”But that’s me… what about you? You lived in Russia, right? There’s got to be some interesting stories there.”

[kiipcha]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd500/Kiipcha/oceanbreezebg-1.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 591 // outfit // click here // tagged // Spencer spread your wings AND LET YOUR FEATHERS TOUCH THE SKY Anya looked at him with an encouraging smile as he started to speak. "I mean, the music thing is a big part—" Oh boy, she hoped that she wasn't going to end up regretting her question. She was perfectly fine with him not having an interesting history, in fact, she craved a sort of normality in her life and wished that her own history had more of it. "My uncle was in a bunch of odd little coffee shop or dive bar bands back in Seattle and when I was little I always wanted to be in one of them.” By now she was sure that Spencer could get himself into a much bigger part in the music industry, but it was cute how he had started off with such a small dream. When she was younger her mother had told her to always dream big and told her to dream of performing in the Russian ballet. That dream hadn't been fullfilled nor would it ever be, so Anya tried to stick to little dreams to save herself some dissapointment. ”So I started playing guitar… cause there’s not always a ton of demand for pianists or violinists, haha…” She made a mental note for him to play guitar for her sometime. All Anya had ever heard him play was piano, and she was eager to hear him play more. ”Other than that… I do a lot of homework, so, kind of boring. I tutor, and all that.” Anya smiled at his humble nature, "You're not boring. It's always a good thing to be good at school work. And I wish I could play an instrument." The waiter came back and set down their food. At the delicious smells wafting up from the food Anya decided that she would have to eat here more often. ”But that’s me… what about you? You lived in Russia, right? There’s got to be some interesting stories there.” She paused, wondering whether or not to tell him more about how she came to Silas. Spencer had told her plenty about him, causing Anya to choose to tell the older student a little more about herself as it was only fair. "I suppose you could call it interesting." Anya stuck her fork in her food, twirling it around and letting the steam float upwards. "Hmm, well you already know how my mother sort of taught me in ballet. And the fancy academy and what not. I guess I could tell you what happened after I found out about my powers." She took in a breath, having never told anyone much about her history. "So I went home and my parents took me to a hospital and the doctors started running tests. My father found out that he could earn money by having scientists and doctors pay him in order to run tests on me. It wasn't so bad at first, but he started getting even more greedy and the tests became more . . . painful." She winced a little as she remembered the needles and knives she had felt against her skin during such tests. "He almost but me through a surgey with only a thirty percent chance that I would live. My mom helped me get out of Russia and away from my father then. So we found Silas, and well, here I am." She hoped that by telling this story that she hadn't completely ruined the good time they were having. "Sorry if I sort of ruined the happy atmosphere . . . notes // None

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[spencer]

"I suppose you could call it interesting." Spencer listened as he starting making a dent in his plate, which appeared to be piled with food. He spun up a forkful of shrimp alfredo before carefully putting it in his mouth, not wanting to do any noodle-chasing. Silently, Spencer continued eating as he kept his attention on Anya’s words. He nodded when she mentioned sharing how she discovered her wings, quickly dropping his fork and brushing his bangs out of his eyes once they fell into his vision. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep the redhead from doing the primping; he figured it would be rude while she began reciting her past.

It started out innocent enough: Spencer wasn’t surprised to hear she’d been brought to a hospital. Suddenly sprouting wings during ballet practice was something that would surely cause alarm. It wasn’t until the boy had taken his first bite of lasagna that he did a double take (from his plate up to Anya’s cringing face) and had to fight from letting his jaw drop. With his eyes wide, he covered his mouth with his fist and coughed—lodging the food from his throat—and brought his napkin up. Spencer had put his fork down as she continued on to mention the surgery, feeling that eating through something like this was horrendously impolite.

Plus, he wasn’t sure he could stomach it.

”Sorry if I sort of ruined the happy atmosphere…” Anya said, almost modestly, and Spencer shook his head in reassurance. He was silent for a moment. This was a lot to digest. He watched her, imagining the things she’d just explained play out in his head. Immediately, there was a great pang of anger towards Anya’s father, and at the same time a rush of sympathy for the winged girl. He understood her reluctance in having any sort of pride in her ability… it had only brought tragedy, and had apparently awoken her to her father’s true colors. ”God, Anya,” Spencer began, his eyes still displaying a state of shock, ”That’s… completely disgusting. I’m,” he paused, shaking his head, ”really sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes found his plate again, not entirely sure what to say. When the words came to him, he looked back up to her. ”You’re an amazingly strong girl, you know that? That couldn’t have been easy to share with me.” Another brief silence. Conflicting feelings: Spencer’s reactions from her story mixed in with a surge of respect for Anya, and also a strong dash of flattery upon realizing that the girl had shared such as traumatic, crucial experience in her life. He fiddled with the cloth napkin, unsure if he wanted to ask his next question. ”Do you… still talk to them?” Her parents.

[kiipcha]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd500/Kiipcha/oceanbreezebg-1.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 344 // outfit // click here // tagged // Spencer spread your wings AND LET YOUR FEATHERS TOUCH THE SKY ”God, Anya,” She gripped the white napkin that she had placed on her lap earlier, glancing back up at Spencer. ”That’s… completely disgusting. I’m really sorry you had to go through that." A small smile crossed her face, trying to lighten up the mood a little bit. "I've heard worse though . . ." It was true, she had heard stories that would make you want to cringe and cry. Her history wasn't exactly desirable but it surely was better than some of the other students'. ”You’re an amazingly strong girl, you know that? That couldn’t have been easy to share with me.” She relaxed her grip on her napkin, smoothing it back out over her lap. Just hearing Spencer talk was making her feel a little better, and was already dispelling the memories that had clouded her mind. "It feels good to actually tell someone. You're the first I've told." Anya smiled and took a few mouthfulls of her food. There was a moment of silence as the two students ate. But the silence was broken as Spencer asked another question. ”Do you… still talk to them?” His question caught her a little off guard but she wasn't against answering. She swallowed her food before talking, "I've talked to my mom once since I've arrived at Silas. Just to make sure that she wasn't having troubles now that she wasn't in Russia anymore. And as for my father . . . he doesn't know where I am, and I can never let him find out where I am or where my mother is. So no, I haven't talked to him since." Anya paused, letting an optimistic smile show on her face. "But it'll be fine. He probably still thinks I'm in Russia anyway. It'll be fine." She was reassuring herself and she knew it. There wasn't a day that passed by without her worrying that her father knew where she was and was tracking her. But like Spencer said, she was strong and wasn't going to allow herself to break down. "It's fine." notes // None

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[spencer]

It amazed Spencer how Anya was so humble about her past experiences. He supposed he wouldn’t be… bragging, or anything, if he’d been through the same tough stuff, but the redhead’s composure was admirable. She barely faltered, and it seemed like she was just making solemn dinner conversation. He guessed that it was just a talent of hers, and that inside there was probably a lot of hurt hiding away. There had to be, with a story like that. Spencer really didn’t have many friends with tough family lives, and his own went relatively smoothly other than a few small bumps, so it was difficult for him to relate.

”It’s fine,” she’d said, but Spencer wasn’t entirely convinced. He sensed her self-reassurance, despite her optimistic smile. ”You know that’s the third time you’ve said ‘fine’, right?” he said in a lighthearted, yet somber tone. He watched her thoughtfully as he chewed his lasagna, almost solemnly. A small gust of cool wind blew past, causing the candle light to blink erratically and illuminate Anya’s features in unpredictable flashes of warm light. With his heart beating wildly, he brought his hand up to her and lightly pushed a few strands of red hair that had been jostled by the wind behind her ear. He let his hand follow the side of her face slowly before he brought his hand back.

”Well,” he started, trying to shoo away the more serious atmosphere that had clouded their once-carefree smiles, ”If he finds you, you know Superhero Spencer’s got your back.” He laughed, pausing again to continue eating his food. After a moment, he looked back up to his companion. ”I owe you… the world’s biggest hug,” he said finally. ”Remind me to do that once I finish devouring this mountain of food.” He realized, after he said this, that his plate was nearly clean. The thought of not being able to hide behind the dinner table made him a little nervous, but he attempted to thwart those feelings with a forkful of pasta.

[kiipcha]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd500/Kiipcha/oceanbreezebg-1.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 389 // outfit // click here // tagged // Spencer spread your wings AND LET YOUR FEATHERS TOUCH THE SKY ”You know that’s the third time you’ve said ‘fine’, right?” Anya started twirling her fork around in the spaghetti again, glancing back up at Spencer. "Oh . . . I guess I did. Sorry." There wasn't much to really apologize for, but she wasn't sure what else to say. It was obvious that Spencer was noticing her self reassuring behavior, in fact almost anyone would probably figure it out, and Anya found herself at a loss for words. The wind picked up slightly, blowing a few strands of hair across her face while flickering the candle light across the two students. She was about to tuck them away when she suddenly felt someone else's hand against her cheek. Her brown eyes blinked in surprise as Spencer brushed the strands of hair behind her ear. His hand slid up her face, causing her body to tingle again. A soft breath escaped her mouth which she was unable to determine as a sign of surprise or some sort of relief. Spencer brought his hand back, leaving Anya to gently touch the side of her face with her hand. Once more the older teen had took away her words. No wonder the teen was so flustered when she moved his bangs out of his face. ”Well,” The Russian girl was still blushing from the intimate move yet managed to crack a small smile. ”If he finds you, you know Superhero Spencer’s got your back.” Her smile broke as she laughed. Anya's heart was beating faster than it ever had before all because of the slight contact between Spencer and her. She could even still feel what felt like his hand against her face. "Thank you Spencer . . . or should I say, Superhero Spencer?" Her laugh was soft, the tingling feeling finally dissappearing. She felt a longing for the tingling to return and was hoping that she would get to feel it again soon. ”I owe you… the world’s biggest hug,” Anya grinned and she swallowed another mouthful of food now that her mood was officially lifted. ”Remind me to do that once I finish devouring this mountain of food.” Her smile grew bigger as she noticed that he was nearly done with his plate. "I will." At the moment all she could think about was; please don't ask for seconds. notes // None

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[spencer]

It was hard to ignore Anya’s reaction to his touch. The boy was nearly giddy; he was finding it difficult to keep himself from getting a little over-confident. This girl, she totally liked him. At least, right now she did. But Spencer didn’t want to think about the future. He was on a dinner date with a beautiful girl he had great chemistry with and she liked him.

He continued eating, unable to keep the grin off of his lips. She must’ve thought he was quite amused with his lasagna. Finishing up his meal to the best of his ability, he was glad it wasn’t one of those meals that caused him to be uncomfortably full. That would put a damper on the rest of the night. Spencer rolled his eyes at the ongoing super hero remark and set his fork down. ”Oh, please,” he began, placing his hand on his chest in mock embarrassment. Extending the joke, he looked around the outdoor dining area as if to see if anyone had been listening. ”Keep that on the down-low, I don’t need people knowing I’m a superhero, they’ll be calling me up to… manipulate ink… nonstop.” Spencer stopped his act with a laugh and folded his napkin up, placing it on his nearly-cleared plate. Yeah, that was not quite a super hero that would get a lot of attention.

”Well, I’m stuffed, are you ready to leave?” he asked, leaning on his chair. Spencer arched his back and extended his arms above his head in a post-meal stretch before he relaxed and smiled to Anya. He took a sip from his fancy glass of water just as the waiter walked by and left the check on the table. The boy grabbed the black folder without pause and slid his hand into his back pocket to reveal his wallet. A silver credit card was pulled out and tucked in the check folder and he set it back on the table, where the waiter was back around shortly to pick it up, and again bring it back after the payment was swiped. The boy pocketed his card and the receipt.

Spencer pushed his chair back, which created a loud sound of metal scraping against concrete. ”After you,” he offered, his tone carrying a playful air. Spencer bent over in a bit of a bow and gave Anya his hand, as if she needed help out of her seat. ”We should make this dinner thing happen again,” he mentioned absently, finally able to suggest hanging out with the girl without feeling a swell of nervousness in his stomach. ”After our joint piano/dance practices… it’s like the cherry on top of the night, right?” The setting sun was casting a magnificent pink-orange color across one third of the sky, fading into a dark deep blue over in the direction of Silas. Spencer reckoned it was exactly the type of sky he’d been wishing for on a night like this.