"My mom has one!" Violet exclaimed happily. She'd always found it easy to talk to adults, especially because of the way she lived. Her parents were extremely vintage, and the many rooms in their house had themes based on the eras in the 1900s.
"I have some records, would you like them?"
Violet's eyes lit up. "Yes! I-I mean, yes. Thank you."
She nodded, holding her jovial smile.
"When will you be back at the coffee shop?" Peter asked, taking a seat.
"I don't know if I will," Ms. Fizts replied, "I'm gettin' older, and my daughter's looking to run a business, so. I think she's ready,"
Violet took a step back so the pair could talk without her interrupting.
"Ah, that's good.." he nodded slowly. "Best of luck, Ms. Fistz,"
"Thank you." She smiled.
Skip?
(Sure!)
Peter and her day?
(Sure!)
Could u start??)
(Sure!)
Violet tugged on the hem of her shirt, something she tended to do when she was anxious. Biting her lip, she rang the doorbell again. Dammit, Violet, he probably heard it the first time and was too busy!
(OOOH ok dont mind me but this is goooood, may I stalk?)
(Yeah, of course!)
Violet tugged on the hem of her shirt, something she tended to do when she was anxious. Biting her lip, she rang the doorbell again. Dammit, Violet, he probably heard it the first time and was too busy!
Peter opened the door quickly. He was holding the last part of his collar shut, he lost the time to button it in his rush to the door. "Good morning!" His voice cracked.
Violet's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, uh, you can finish getting dressed if you need to…" She suddenly felt very self-conscious about what she was wearing. Was it too much? She began to instantly doubt herself.
He buttoned it as he spoke, "Well, I'm okay now. Still need to comb my hair though." Yes, she could see how noticeably tangled his long black hair was. It always looked so managable and soft any other time.
"It's fine. I'm super early anyway, so take as much time as you need," Violet assured him quickly.
"Yeah, thanks. Make yourself at home," Peter smiled. His apartment was pitifully tiny: a sad excuse for a bedroom, no bathtub, sparse living room. The most expensive thing in that house was probably his laptop. All his furniture (a fouton, basically) we're hand-me-downs.
She looked around, surprised to find that she'd never actually been to his house before. "I'm not too early, am I?" she asked worriedly.
"you're fine," Peter replied, picking at strands of his hair til he was satisfied.
She watched him for a couple seconds, then quickly looked away. No, that’s weird, Violet! she scolded herself.
"Alright," he breathed, "I'm ready," Peter smiled cordially, turning to pad over to his close friend.
She returned his smile. "So, where do you want to go first?"
"Um," he sat down, "I know a really nice greenhouse near here,"
"Then we'll go there!" she said determinedly.
His grey eyes lit up. "I think you'll love it,"
"If you think I will, then I will," she assured him.
Peter tucked his phone into his pants pocket. "Vamonos?"
"¡Bien, amigo mío!" she replied in kind, a bright smile lighting up her face.
