"It was more than luck," she chided with the breeziness of one who had a heap of trophies lying at her feet. "I had determination." She did, in more ways than one; she was absolutely determined tonight be pitch-perfect. Amber had caught something flash through his face: not quite queasiness or hesitation, but whatever it was, it wasn't as positive as the other emotions he’d displayed since she’d won. If he had any doubts about the setup, she'd prove them wrong, or her name wasn't Amber Volakis.
Eric greeted her prize with good-humored mockery. "Times have changed," she informed him authoritatively as if she were a scientist announcing the incredible advances her field had conquered.
Her spider ring was on her hand, so she squeezed his back without worrying that the plastic splinters would dig into his skin. His was just as cold and stiff as hers, but fingers twined like this, they'd heat up before long. "You are so brushing your teeth before your mouth comes anywhere near mine," she teased. Not that it was true; she wouldn't resist his kisses, ketchup flavored or not. At his other comment, Amber raised an eyebrow. "Is that a suggestion?" She hadn't yet thought of what they'd do, exactly; she figured she'd do whatever felt right when the time came. But it wasn't a bad idea.
The scent of fried batter and sugar grew stronger as they approached the food stalls, and, low-quality as they were, Amber's stomach rumbled. She'd worked up an appetite over the day and the shooting match. There was a bigger crowd here, the noise of young voices surrounding them, and Amber had to dodge into Eric to avoid being trampled over by a Batman and Superman. "Weren't they supposed to stop crime, not start it?" But this was the kids' turf, and Amber recognized that; she wouldn't chase them down to teach them a lesson. Instead, she paid for the coffee and corndog she owed Eric, and got a hotdog and a strawberry milkshake for herself. They might not get tipsy on finer wines tonight, but high off cheap caffeine and sugar, maybe. "Now tell me this isn’t the best food you’ve ever had," she said, biting into her steaming hot dog.
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Eric greeted her prize with good-humored mockery. "Times have changed," she informed him authoritatively as if she were a scientist announcing the incredible advances her field had conquered.
Her spider ring was on her hand, so she squeezed his back without worrying that the plastic splinters would dig into his skin. His was just as cold and stiff as hers, but fingers twined like this, they'd heat up before long. "You are so brushing your teeth before your mouth comes anywhere near mine," she teased. Not that it was true; she wouldn't resist his kisses, ketchup flavored or not. At his other comment, Amber raised an eyebrow. "Is that a suggestion?" She hadn't yet thought of what they'd do, exactly; she figured she'd do whatever felt right when the time came. But it wasn't a bad idea.
The scent of fried batter and sugar grew stronger as they approached the food stalls, and, low-quality as they were, Amber's stomach rumbled. She'd worked up an appetite over the day and the shooting match. There was a bigger crowd here, the noise of young voices surrounding them, and Amber had to dodge into Eric to avoid being trampled over by a Batman and Superman. "Weren't they supposed to stop crime, not start it?" But this was the kids' turf, and Amber recognized that; she wouldn't chase them down to teach them a lesson. Instead, she paid for the coffee and corndog she owed Eric, and got a hotdog and a strawberry milkshake for herself. They might not get tipsy on finer wines tonight, but high off cheap caffeine and sugar, maybe. "Now tell me this isn’t the best food you’ve ever had," she said, biting into her steaming hot dog.