il pollo ; sunday evening

[flickofthewrist]

Before tonight, the only places that Flick had eaten at on the island had consisted of the pizza place and the Chinese restaurant. Everything else seemed a little too upscale for him. It brought back memories of his time in Connecticut and the fancy dinner parties his father used to throw. Exotic (and Italian was exotic to him) foods were the norm there and he'd grown to hate anything that wasn't microwaveable and easily eaten on the run.

But, he'd stepped a little out of his box tonight and gone with Italian. He figured there'd be pasta, at the least, so things wouldn't be completely unfamiliar. When he got there, the waiter kept trying to bring him pea soup for some reason and Flick kept refusing it because gross. He eventually had to threaten to withhold a tip if the pea soup kept coming and that seemed to straighten the waiter out.

Now, he was at his table, legs stretched out and phone in hands while he waited. There weren't too many messages, thankfully. An email from Gwendolyn, still taunting him, and even one from Mandel though it was more form letter than anything else. His father was, lucky for him, still out of contact.

And yes, he was wearing something nice. He hadn't gone as far as a tie (no, thank you) but dark slacks and a button up long sleeved shirt had met the appropriate dress code. They hadn't turned him away at the door.

[Flick's there for someone but hey, it's an open place in town!]

Comments

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle, for her part, looked flawless (to her own eyes, at least, which was all she personally cared about). They did not turn her away at the door, either.

And so, she made her way to Flick's table. "Evening."

[flickofthewrist]

"Evening to you too," Flick said, sliding his phone in his pocket while he stood up. Hey, he had learned some manners during his life. He could demonstrate that. "You make the guy at the door choke on his tongue in that dress?"

That meant she looked good. It was just his way of complimenting without overtly complimenting. Which made sense. To him. Yeah.

[seveninchmotto]

Judging by how smug Isabelle looked in response, it was safe to say that was how it had been received. Of course, Isabelle tended to read more things as compliments than how people actually meant them, anyway.

"Well, I think he lost a few words, at least."

[flickofthewrist]

Yes, he figured he'd just made her ego inflate even more than it already was. Oh well.

"If you didn't try to give you pea soup, then you've done better than I have," he said and made a face at that mental image popping up again. "That's all anyone's tried to do since I got here."

[seveninchmotto]

"That's... interesting." But not that interesting. She'd come across a few bowls of pea soup back at the dorms as well, so it wasn't a surprise. "Are you going to pull out my chair for me?"

Much more important a topic.

[flickofthewrist]

"Oh yes because you sound extraordinarily interested," Flick quipped, moving around the table and pulling her chair out. He didn't even argue though a part of him wanted to make a smart comment.

"Take a seat," he said, gesturing to the now pulled out chair with a hand. "I won't even pull the chair away so you end up on your ass."

Because she'd probably make him eat his own arm or something. It was a joke anyway.

[seveninchmotto]

Yes, that wasn't really an action that would lead to anything good for him. Isabelle even rolled her eyes as she brushed past him to take her seat, perfectly graceful about not ending up on her ass.

"That would be a pretty sour way to start the evening, anyway."

[flickofthewrist]

"Hence the reason I refrained," he said, giving her chair a gentle push towards the table before re-taking his own seat. "I don't need another knife at my throat. And I'm sure you've got one or two on you despite the dress."

[seveninchmotto]

"Oh, I have one in a thigh sheath. It matches the dress perfectly."

It sounded like a joke but it was a hundred percent true.

[flickofthewrist]

"You matched your knife with your dress." It wasn't a question and he sounded more amused than surprised. "Of course you did."

Because she was her and matching things like shoes and dresses was amateur hour, most likely.

"It's kinda hot to think about, actually." Obviously, he'd just thought about it.

[seveninchmotto]

"The knife is black, but the sheath matches the dress."

Because why wouldn't you have many different thigh sheaths? Isabelle, as a girl who liked both weapons as well as dresses, considered this essential.

"And yes, feel free to think about it."

[flickofthewrist]

"I didn't need your permission but I thank you for it anyway," he said, voice dry. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "I feel so...under dressed now."

He had no weapons on him, of course. He'd matched his clothes but that was about it. And it was more effort than he usually put out there.

"My thighs are, sadly, devoid of knives or sheaths."

[seveninchmotto]

"That's okay," Isabelle replied easily, as she reached for a menu, "should we get attacked mid-dinner, I'll protect you."

[flickofthewrist]

"Perfectly capable of holding my own when I'm unarmed but that's very sweet of you," he quipped, reaching for his own menu and flipping it open. "I'm touched, really. Touched right in the heart."

[seveninchmotto]

"Did you just admit to having a heart?" Isabelle teased, glancing up at him over the edge of her menu before scanning the lists of available meal items. "Weakness is unattractive."

She was joking, on so many different levels.

[flickofthewrist]

"Pretty sure I've shown my heart to you before," he told her, making a face at her. She'd heard him talk about his brother, after all. "It's just a little black."

Maybe a lot black. And a lot bruised.

"And I'm not unattractive." He knew that for a fact.

[seveninchmotto]

"Eh," said Isabelle, and made a vague gesture of ambivalence with her hand.

Because she was a pain.

[flickofthewrist]

"See, if my heart wasn't as black as it was, that would have hurt me," he said and tapped his chest. "You're lucky I've built up all the scar tissue so I can deal with you."

He didn't really mean that either.

[seveninchmotto]

"You seem to be dealing with me just fine," Isabelle remarked without looking up. "I think it doesn't have much to do with any scar tissue."

[flickofthewrist]

"You think?" Flick's eyes scanned the menu, trying to find things that jumped out at him as familiar and thus, something he could stomach. "What do you think it has to do with, then?"

Curiosity and all.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle shrugged. Not very informative, but then she wasn't ever in the business of being too informative, anyway.

"Maybe you just like the attention."

[flickofthewrist]

"Interesting answer."

Not one he'd expected either. He didn't think it was necessarily true but he'd go with the flow.

"So, why do you keep giving me attention, then? Since you're going with that reasoning and all."

[seveninchmotto]

"Because this island is tiny and I have to do things for fun when nothing's invading."

Because invasions kind of trumped everything else for fun.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick snickered and shook his head at her. Now that had been an expected answer. Still amused him.

"I don't deal with you as well as I do because I like the attention," he said and left it at that for the second. Important menu perusing going on and all!

[seveninchmotto]

"And?"

Well, she thought she'd prompt him for his own view on things beyond what he didn't do. She wasn't realy expecting to get much out of him, though.