Walk away from the sun, come slowly undone

[ooc:  Bendy time, whatever time, etc.  Post contents are subject to change after review of other player.]

    She refused to tell him where they were going.  He said to surprise him, so she would, and no amount of begging or tickling would ever break her.  Earlier that day she had made all the correct reservations, a car from his apartment to the Getty, and then to dinner.  The reservations for dinner, and everything in between. 

After her hair appointment (the mess really was getting to long, and needed a good trim.)  She napped, and then dressed for that evening.  Despite the fact that she was normally always in shorts or a tank top, she really was a girly, girl.  The outfit had to be perfect, and planned out in advance, getting ready took awhile so she tried to plan it out so that she and Mortie wouldn't need the bathroom at the same time.

The town car out front called her cell phone as she was putting the finishing touches on her hair.  Stepping out of the bathroom, she grabbed her purse and the ever patiently waiting Mortie.  Apologizing for taking so long, she waited for him to lock the front door before showing him the car.  It was how she had been driven around the majority of her life, and she was pretty sure Mortie didn't want to sit in a filthy taxi.

In the back of the car, she finally relaxed, still a little nervous she kept staring out the window, sneaking glances over at Mortie before looking away again.  She had no idea how she was suppose to act, polite, grown up, don't fidget, don't giggle too much, and sit up straight!  She went through the list of things NOT to do in her mind as they drove to the Getty.

The showing was very low key, there was a classical quartet in the corner playing music as people milled around through the various exhibits. There was a bar, and in the center a table with bits of cheese, and various small finger food that people were picking at.  It was for members of the Getty, but Salome had managed to get tickets after joining and making a donation.

Salome took her time looking at all the paintings, studying the beautiful works out art, some of them she had even seen in her book.  If the actual paintings weren't in there, their painters were, it was amazing to see something she had only read about come to life.  It was the first time, besides in sleep, she had been silent for so long.  It felt wrong to talk around such Master pieces.

Time flew by, and the next time she looked at her cell phone, she realized that their reservation for dinner was coming up.

She found Mortie to tell him, and to show him back to the car.  The ride to Matsuhisa was silent.

    Salome never really got out of her bathing suit, oh for bed time and for general school she changed, but during the day clothes were optional.  Especially on hot days like this one, leaning on the door frame, she chewed on her lip and shifted her bag and towel from one arm to another.  It was dark outside, and so she hoped the pool would be empty, who else would be swimming at night:?  Glancing outside, she sighed and then looked back toward the bedroom.

    "Mortie!  C'mon!"

    Casual.  That was the key word of the night.  At least that's what she told herself.  Kissing Mortie and falling asleep in his arms had been simply wonderful.  She couldn't remember the last time someone had been so considerate of her age and her comfort level.  Still, she was nervous that she would some how frighten him off, that they would move too fast and all of a sudden he would bolt like a frightened horse.  She didn't want to do that, not to him, and she would do anything in her power to keep that from happening.

Still, it was hard to think casual when she could still remember the kiss they had shared, the one that still made her heart race and her stomach twist up in knots.  She couldn't think of that now, and thus refused herself to think of such matters.  The funny thing about that was, once you told yourself not to think of something, that's all you can think of.

So she went swimming.

Hours later she was at his door, movie rentals and illicit sourpatch kids under one arm while she tried not to fidget.  In typical girl fashion she was late, and had gone through six different outfits before she decided on the one she had on.  She still didn't like it.  Her hair was down, with the slight curl it got when she let it air dry.  Shorts with a long sleeved blue top, with a tank top under that, was what she had chose, but standing there she worried if her shorts were too short, or her top too low cut.  She didn't want to give him the impression that she was trying to seduce him, even though that's what she wanted to do.  Badly.

Shut the fuck up, Salome, she told herself.

Clearing her throat as if she was about to make a speech she simply lifted her hand and knocked.  It was anti-climatic.