Inked [1x1]

Otto nodded. "Right," he said, looking to the tax on the receipt. He very quickly doubled it and kept it aside to give to the waiter when he came back. He smiled at the man, holding out the money. "Thank you very much," he said with a nod and a smile. He looked back to Laila. "Are we gonna stay a little bit longer, or will we head out?"
 
She smiled, internally. "Whichever, I'm good to leave now, though, if you're ready to go?"
 
"Yeah, I'm ready," he said, standing up. He pushed his chair in and waited for Laila before walking out of the restaurant, holding the door for her on the way out. "So, what would you rate The Saint's House out of ten?" He asked as they walked to the car.
 
What a gentleman. "Mmm, I think a seven." She smiled at Otto, "but the company? Still deciding."
 
Otto faked a wince, a hand to his heart. "You're so mean," he complained with a laugh, opening the passenger side door for her, and then getting in the car through his own side. He started the car up. "Just back to yours?" He asked. "Or are you needing, like, groceries, or something," he joked.
 
She laughed. "It's not mean, it only means I haven't come to a decision, yet!" She smiled, brightly. "Mm, back to my place is fine unless you need groceries or something." She didn't mind if the night didn't end quite, yet, but she didn't want to hold him up for anything, unsure what his own opinion was of their evening thus far.
 
Otto shook his head. "Nope," he said, putting the car into reverse. The drive back to Laila's apartment was quiet, but not entirely silent. He pulled up in front of the apartment building, and like before got out to open the door for Laila.
 
Even the silence felt comfortable with him and Laila didn't feel the need to try to fill it with useless chatter. It was companionable so she didn't mind the lapses in conversation in the short drive. Again, she went to open the door but stopped herself when she realized his intent. It was sweet, his eagerness to get doors for her and she beamed at him when the door opened. "Thank you," She murmured as she exited the vehicle. "Do you..." She stopped, unsure how to phrase this in a way that didn't imply something that she wasn't quite ready to offer. Her blonde hair ducked, suddenly shy, "I'd like to spend more time with you, if you would like to hang out for a bit?"
 
Otto closed the door behind Laila. He was ready to give some sort of 'I'd like to do this again' line, but she got to it first. His eyebrows raised for a moment. "Oh yeah, sure," he said quickly. He had work in the morning, but this felt a lot more important. He reopened the car and scooped the keys out of the ignition, locking the car then pushing the keys into his pocket. "Lead the way," he said with a breathy laugh.
 
She probably should have let the night end but she was enjoying his company and dinner had seemed to pass far too quickly. Upstairs she put in a VHS; it was a habit, something she always did when she got home, to create some background noise, then she offered Otto something to drink--She only had water or tea, at the moment. She didn't intend to keep him long, instead just inquiring more about his work and passion for art.

Roughly two hours had passed when she checked the time and she smiled, shyly again, "I should probably head to bed. I have a meeting in the morning and I've already monopolized a large amount of your time this evening."
 
Otto drank exclusively water for the entirety of the night, and spent much of it with either one or both of the cats on his lap. He answered every question about inking in great detail, but any questions that might have strayed towards life outside of his work seemed like less of a big deal to him.

He glanced at his own watch, eyes widening. He really should have been in bed a little while ago. Ah, well. It was worth it. He smiled. "I'll head out, then," he said, picking a sleeping Nolan up off his lap and setting him gently down on the table. He stood up and went to the door. "I had a really nice night with you," he said after a moment of hesitation. "Could we do it again some time?"
 
The ball was in his court and, thankfully, he took it. "I had a nice time, too." She agreed and couldn't help the wide smile that broke out when he asked if she'd like to go out again. "I'm sure I could find time in my not very busy schedule." She beamed as she walked him to the door.
 
Otto laughed. "And I'm sure I can find time in mine," he said, standing in the doorway for a moment. He stepped out of the apartment. "I'll call," he promised, taking a few steps backwards towards the stairs.
 
"I'll probably answer," She teased with a laugh. "Careful, or you're going to fall." She stays between the door and the frame, watching his retreating figure.
 
Otto turned around, expecting the stairs to be right behind him, though there were a few more steps to go. He laughed a little. "Would really kill the mood if I turned up in a full body cast, wouldn't it?" He said with a laugh, one hand on the railing.
 
"It certainly would make it hard to go on a second date, unless your idea of a good time is a hospital room and a romantic dessert of hospital jello." She chewed at her bottom lip, trying to hide the wide smile on her face. It looked like he still didn't want to leave. She was really asking for trouble, getting involved with an inker of all people, but she couldn't help it. He made her laugh, and smile.
 
Otto shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I don't think I've ever heard anything worse than 'hospital jello'," he said, walking down a few steps. He turned to look back at her. "Bye, then," he said, a small smile on his face.
 
She laughed. "Bye."

Laila waited until Otto was completely out of sight before closing the door and pressing her forehead against it. She had a stupid grin on her face and she knew it, but the night had been a lot of fun. At her feet a small kitten meowed and she rolled her eyes, "Oh hush, I'm getting your dinner already."

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The next morning Laila had to drag herself out of bed in order to get up in time for her meeting, but it was worth the morning crust in her eyes. It was also worth waking up because this was a Big Deal. She had the chance for a book deal this morning, as long as her meeting goes well. She debated calling Otto again, before leaving, but decided against it. Instead, she kissed her kittens goodbye, and headed for the bus, mood bright.
 
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The drive home was relatively boring, all things considered, but Otto was still smiling he was watching one of the funniest movies on the planet. That had been one of the best first dates he'd had in a while. Definitely a lot better than the fish tank, or any of his high school experiences. He didn't want to start getting too hopeful, though. Things usually messed up when he got his hopes too high. Even with that thought in the back of his head, he kept on smiling.


In the morning, Otto woke up a fair bit later than he would have done, had he gotten to bed at his standard time. He didn't regret it, though, even if at this rate he was going to be late for work. In his rush, he didn't think about calling Laila until he was already on the road and heading to the inkers. At that rate, he wouldn't be able to call until his break, a lot later on in the day. But would it be weird to call her again when he was on his break? Wouldn't it look like he was just calling to kill time? He sighed and decided that he could deal with it when the time came as he arrived at his work.
 
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When she arrived at the publishing house, they had Laila waiting in a rather uncomfortable chair for well over an hour. She fidgeted nervously in the pencil skirt and blouse, the manuscript she'd brought along, for reference, weighing heavily in her lap.

The last time she had tried getting a book deal for something other than a children's book with twelve pages, she had been rejected, harshly, and it had taken her a week to get out of bed and another three before she started even trying to write again. She had barely started to get a muse when she'd lost inspiration and gone to the coffee shop. It was part of why she'd gotten the kittens; if she was rejected once more, she'd have to get out of bed, if only to feed them.

"Miss Benzol?" The secretary called and Laila sprang from her chair to the desk, "Andalyn will see you now." The secretary offered a warm smile and Laila tried not to get her hopes up.

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Laila was bouncing in her seat on the bus, eager to get home. There hadn't been a guarantee from the publisher, but they had been interested in the manuscript that Laila had sent in; she had made a few suggestions, particularly to the end, and said that depending on what Laila came back with, they might be willing to work with her. It was more than she had gotten before and Laila was thrilled. Oddly, though, the first person she wanted to share this news with was someone she barely knew.

She opted for calling her dad, first, instead, the second that she got home.
 
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