Inked [1x1]

Otto quickly put the phone back on the wall and then rushed out to the front, pushing down his nerves to talk to the girl who had come in. She wanted a tattoo to commemorate her love for music. His mind fizzing with energy, he drew what he thought was best and she quite liked it. She booked an appointment for two weeks ahead and Otto was left with his fizzing head again.

He got off at ten past five and drove home pretty quick. Though usually he would dedicate a little while to practicing designing, he had bigger fish to fry. He jumped in for a quick shower, came out and dressed into a pair of black trousers and a grey button-down shirt. Smart casual, that was probably what you call it.

For the distance between their houses, fifteen minutes to was probably a suitable time to leave. He slipped his Nokia 6110 into his front pocket and his wallet and keys into his back, and went out to his car.

The silver Vauxhall Corsa arrived at the apartment, a bouquet of flowers in the passenger seat. There was still five minutes until seven, so Otto gave himself some time to chill. He needed to look cool, not nervous. He ran a hand through his curly hair, wondering if he should have straightened it or something like that. He shook his head and sighed. It was too late now. He checked his watch again, and decided to head out. He scooped up the flowers and got out the car, walking up to the door. He pressed the doorbell for Laila's room and waited, nervously switching his weight from one foot to the next.
 
She tried to watch the news (boring). She tried to read (couldn't focus). She started fussing at her clothes but that started stressing her out, so she quickly quit that and decided she looked quite nice in what she was wearing.

By the time Otto came knocking on the door she was anxiously staring at the TV as it played a rerun of Blossom. Immediately she jumped up from the couch and then realized that it would be way to obvious if she was already ready when she came to the door. "Just a minute," She called. Laila switched the TV off, fiddled with her hair, straightened the hem of her shirt, and then went to get the door. Dating was harder than she remembered. She was smiling, though, when she opened the door. "Hi." She said softly, reaching for her purse.
 
He sighed in relief when he heard Laila's voice reply. He hadn't expected her to give a wrong address, but it had been a little worry in the back of his mind. He smiled at her when she opened the door. "Surprise!" He said, holding out the flowers a little. "I hope you like lilies," he mumbled with a blush.
 
"Oh!" She was surprised by the thoughtful gesture and she felt her face turn pink. "They're beautiful, thank you." There had been a small doubt in her mind that this purely platonic and she'd misread all the signals, but the flowers assuaged that fear and she quickly turned to go find something. "I don't actually have a vase," she explained a little sheepishly, making a note to buy them. Instead, she dug out a pitcher from her cupboard and quickly filled it with water. The flowers were put on display at her small kitchen table.

The apartment she rented was a one bedroom, modest sized home. The front door opened into the living room with the dining room right off to the right. The dining room housed a small table that could easily fit two, and with some squeezing three, people. Only two chairs were there. To the left led into the kitchen area, the living room led into a small hallway that led into the bedroom and bathroom, both doors out of sight. The three person couch was pushed up against the wall it shared with the kitchen, the TV opposite, and straight across against the furthest living room wall was a loveseat leaving an open space between the larger couch and the TV.

There were two small kittens, one orange and the other gray, stretched out on the floor. The gray one looked up and stared at Otto lazily before letting out a content meow.
 
Otto smiled at Laila's reaction, thankful that the aforementioned reaction wasn't an allergic one. He took a few steps into the apartment, careful that he didn't bring any dirt through the door. He looked around the living room, somewhat impressed. "Nice place," he remarked, not closing the door since he was pretty sure they'd be leaving soon after. He looked to the pitcher of water and winced a little; he should have thought ahead. "I can buy one," he offered, smiling in a friendly way.

It was then that he saw the kittens. He had to stop himself from gasping, unwilling to lose whatever sort of tough-guy exterior he had. "You didn't mention you had cats," he said with a chuckle, crouching down beside the grey one. Very carefully, so it could back away if it wanted to, he reached out to scratch it's head, smiling just a little.
 
"That's alright, I can get one tomorrow." The pitcher was large enough to hold the bouquet. She grinned at the two baby kitties, "I've only had them for a few days. The plan was to get one but they were brothers and apparently played together, I couldn't separate them." She grinned at her dates' face. The grey kitty rolled on its side and purred, happily. "That's Nolan and his brother is Sam."
 
Otto nodded. "They're pretty cute," he said, still trying to keep himself looking cool. He stroked the little cat's stomach, the smile on his face steadily getting bigger. Quickly, he realised that he didn't look that cool anymore. He awkwardly cleared his throat and stood up straight, smiling at Laila. "You look lovely," he said, holding out an arm for his date.
 
She giggled a little, watching Otto play with the cats. Any man who can get goofy faced over an animal, though, was a keeper in her book. Laila gave her own quick pet to the cats. "Thank you," she laughed, taking the arm. "Hard to compete with a kitten, though." She grinned and led the way to the front door, grabbing her keys resting there.
 
Otto laughed. "I disagree," he said, opening the door and holding it open for Laila. "My car is the beautiful Corsa sitting over there," he said with a chuckle, nodding towards the car. He unlocked it ahead of time. "I'm afraid I couldn't get a limousine in time."
 
That made her smile brighten and she quickly locked the door, following the dark haired male to his vehicle. "I suppose I can forgive you for that," she sighed dramatically. "Truthfully as long as you aren't trying to make me ride in the basket of your bicycle--true story--then I don't mind the car."
 
Otto raised an eyebrow, laughing at just the mildest description of the story. "What? Please, explain, I've got to hear this," he said, opening the door for Laila. He dramatically gestured for her to get in. "Milady," he said with a laugh.
 
She echoed his laugh at the overt formality and fell into the seat. "Thank you, kind sir." Waiting until Otto was arranged in the driver's seat before telling the story. "I had just graduated high school and I was working part time that summer as a waitress. He had a really nice Ford Ranger that he was obsessed with." She shook her head a little at the memory. "He was sweet and came in a lot with a bunch of his friends. He asked me out and I said yes. Fast forward to the night of the date he shows up to my house on a bicycle. I was dressed in a cute summer dress, strappy sandals; not exactly clothes for riding a bike. I opened the door, he looked at my shoes and said, 'I guess you can't ride on the spokes.' He looked back at his bike turned back to me and sized me up and said, 'You should be able to fit in the basket.'"

She laughed. "He picked me up right then and walked me over to where he'd propped up his bike and, very carefully mind you, put me in the basket. So I ask him, 'what happened to your truck?' because something must have happened for him to pick me up in a bike, and I thought, this guy must be really into me because he still showed up instead of canceling. Turns out he was just very picky about who went into his truck and he told me that girls don't eat a lot, so they always have leftovers and he didn't want his truck to smell like food."
 
The car was clean enough, and smelt strongly of mint, thanks to the little air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. Otto started to drive, listening to the story with a bemused smile on his face. He laughed at the end. "I don't believe that. I grew up with two sisters and they ate everything!" He laughed again. He glanced at Laila from the corner of his eye, not willing to turn his head from the road. "What did you do after that?" He asked, though he seemed to have a guess by the smile on his face.
 
She shrugged one shoulder, "Some girls I know have a concept that they aren't allowed to eat on the first date. Personally, I don't adhere to that rule and I'm pretty sure I've lost points with my own sex for it, but I prefer for a date to be a good time and if I'm starving myself, it's not going to be fun." She grinned at the question, "Well, I was already in the basket, and getting out without help was impossible, so I went on the date. A number of people saw me, with my legs sticking out of a bike basket, on our way there and home. He ordered for me, a salad." She made a face, "He did pay for dinner, though, which I appreciated since it was an uncomfortable ride. He offered to take me home and I opted to walk while he rode the bike, instead. We actually went on a couple more dates, but I always made sure to meet him wherever we were going. After the third date he told me I was 'too high maintenance', 'cause I didn't want to ride in the basket, see, so was no longer interested. It was fine, but for laughs I hid a fish in his truck; it took him a few weeks to find it and it smelled for months." She laughed, amused at her own cleverness. "Doesn't even make the top 3 of worst dates."
 
Otto nodded along with the story, and laughed. "I wouldn't have even given him the first date, trying to pull an act like that," he said. "And definitely not if he ordered for you. Nuh-uh. No chance," he said with a shake of his head. He smiled, and looked back into his own car, as if she would have snuck a fish in, just in case. "I promise not to put you in the basket of a bike as long as you promise not to hide a fish in my house or in my car."
 
She shrugged and laughed, "I was young and he was nice enough, if you look past the basket thing." She pretended to consider the offer and then nodded, "I think I can agree to that. Now, it's my turn. You must have a terrible date story? Share!" She tilted her head to him and gave him an exaggerated flutter of the lashes.
 
Otto glanced at Laila, laughed and shook his head. "Nothing on the level of being put in a bicycle basket," he said. He turned a corner and there was The Saint's House. The carpark was busy, but not so busy that there was no chance they weren't going to get in. "There was a time where I took a girl to a seafood restaurant, right? And she got...really drunk. Like, three bottles of wine all to herself." He parked quite close to the entrance, but in a parking space, of course. "I'll explain the rest once we're in," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. He very quickly got out of the car and came around the other side to hold the door for Laila with a smile.
 
"Every one has at least one bad date." She prodded him into sharing and then grinned when he started his. She had started to reach for the door herself but she saw him coming around the door and quickly dropped her hand to allow him to get the door. "Thank you," She grinned stepping out and grabbing her purse. "Oh, I can't wait to hear this one," she laughed.
 
Otto smiled, closing the car door and locking it as he started to walk to the restaurant's door. "So, because it was a seafood place, they had this big fish tank with lobsters in it, and we were sitting right beside it" he said, stepping into the restaurant. Thank god there wasn't a line. He walked up to the hostess. "Reservation for Pittman?"
The hostess glanced over a list then nodded. "Follow me please!" She chirped, then leading the couple to a table.
"Thank you," he said to the hostess, pulling a seat out for Laila before taking his own chair. "So, she was holding a soup ladle, and she was saying 'I bet this glass it really strong' while tapping it against the lobster tank," he seemed to cringe.
 
Pittman. Laila filed away this new bit of information about her date, and smiled prettily at the chipper hostess. "So cheerful," Beamed the blonde, following the hostess. She carefully took her seat and grinned at the image painted by Otto. "I mean, at least she didn't try to go swimming?" Something about the way she said it, though, indicated that she was kind of hoping that happened, too. "To clarify, this happened after all three bottles of wine, or somewhere in between drinking them?"
 
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