RP:Rachelle Gets a Crush
Summary: Rachelle sees Krice, and it's love at first sight. Because of course it is.
Kelay Restaurant
Rachelle sat in a booth alone, staring out the window. She’d put pen to paper and then her mind had promptly gone off with the fairies, leaving the ink to slowly pool around the page where she’d set the tip. She’d be nothing much to look at naturally -- green eyes on an otherwise boring face, light brown ringlets of hair tied back with a red ribbon, a frame that wasn’t any more likely to draw a lustful gaze than the next woman’s -- but, well, her manner of dress was rather extravagant for the setting. Knee high heeled boots, a dress in a vibrant red that drew the eye (and matched her ribbon, that was important!) and a number of pretty trinkets all declared one thing: rich girl. Her parasol lay upon the table next to her journal, cherry colored to match the rest.
Krice came to the restaurant dressed in his usual black garb, with the collar open and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Katana strapped against his back, one could safely assume that he was some kind of fighter. He approached the counter where he waited fourth in line, greeted warmly by a waitress who saw him there. She knew him by name, and though she harboured the utmost respect for the silver-maned enigma, she was also warm and familiar. Silently, with his back unintentionally to the affluent woman seated nearby, he waited his turn. Krice was not idle, however; something about Rachelle drew his attention and he turned his head, glancing - but not staring - at the newcomer.
Rachelle sensed there were eyes on her. But then, there were always eyes on her. Why should this moment be any different? Still, she’d neglected for a while there to act like it. Clearing her throat, she turned back to her journal -- only to discover the deep blue mark spreading across it. “Fiddlesticks,” she murmured, straightening her posture at once and grabbing the nearest napkin to blot it dry, then flipping through the pages underneath it to survey how much had leaked through to damage what was behind it.
Krice diverted his gaze only once Rachelle did, to tend to her mismarking in her journal. He glanced at the ink as well, though the arrival of a waitress passing him to the affluent woman's table ensured that his attention drifted away once more. When he reached the counter, the other staff behind it knew to give him a paper wrapping with two apple-smelling treats inside. Coin was exchanged, a short pleasantry with only the staff smiling, and then the warrior turned to proceed toward the exit. It seemed that, despite Rachelle's newness and overall appearance to Kelay, he wasn't a man who found that interesting.
More tea, yes. Of course. She’d quite forgotten. Rachelle’s waitress gave just enough of a smile to be professional and then was gone again, leaving the woman be with her journal and a steaming hot cup of earl grey. Finally she deemed fit to survey the restaurant, gracing its patrons with her attention from over the lip of her mug. And then -- that was when she saw the backside of a fit man with long silver hair. My, wasn’t -he- easy on the eyes. So focused was she on the male that she’d held the cup to her face just a bit too long, and suddenly the vapors against her face felt far too hot to stand. With a high pitched, “Eep!” she nearly dropped the thing, but instead managed to only slosh it wildly on its way back down to the table. And… now there was tea on her book, as well. Drat.
Krice was well known around Kelay as a chivalrous and helpful man, though his chivalry did not extend to women who spilt tea on their journals. That was left to the waitress who returned with a cloth and apologies to assist Rachelle, as the warrior himself stepped out of the restaurant and onto Kelay's main thoroughfare, turning west.
Rachelle thought fleetingly about chasing after the man, about throwing herself into his arms and declaring love at first sight. If he was anything near as handsome from the front… No. Bah. A real gentleman would have heard the cry of a lady in distress and attended to her. Hmph. Well, her man was out there, if all those fairy tales she consumed were to be believed, and she’d find him someday…
Krice disappeared from sight and sound to warm calls of 'Hello Krice' and 'Nice day, eh Krice?'. The people of Kelay truly had taken a liking to the man, despite his stoic manner - and his lack of lady-assisting.