They'd never talked about this basic kind of stuff, had they. They'd been sort-of together for two weeks now and she still didn't know that he preferred the news and documentaries. Though, honestly, the way Eric put it, all bland and perfectly respectable choices, made it sound like he was at a job interview and not with his girlfriend. Amber pierced the cork, digging in deep with a couple of decisive, firm twists. "What, no trash TV?" Amber asked, raising her voice slightly so that he could hear her from the kitchen. "No secret and guilty pleasures?"
She brought the corkscrew's arms down and, with the apparatus as far down as it'd go, Amber pulled the screw from the bottle: pop! The cork burst satisfyingly, her hand jolting up. She loved this part; it might even be what she loved most about wine, more than the tipsiness or the taste.
Amber strode into the living room, holding the bottle by its neck and supporting the bottom with her other hand. "I like action movies--" she started, then stopped when she saw Eric sprawled all over her couch like Burt Reynolds. She snorted. So confident and so Eric. "So much for taking it slow," she said, exasperated-- not that she'd been helping much in that regard, but she'd still stayed within better boundaries than that! He hadn't even turned on the TV!
Amber staked out her territory by sitting on the edge where his feet were; she had no idea what would happen later, but it was too early to propose being horizontal on the couch. She reached out first for the remote control and flicked on the TV; it was too early for the prime-time shows, but there was always CNN. She then poured them their drinks, passing Eric his glass. "Think you can drink that lying down?" she teased, a single eyebrow raised. She understood why he’d gotten so settled; even she didn’t really know how far was too far, and they were both feeling it out. At most she was amused by his blatant attempt to take things a bit further. It was honest of him, and she appreciated that. And who knew, they might end up in that same position once they’d downed more of the wine.
no subject
She brought the corkscrew's arms down and, with the apparatus as far down as it'd go, Amber pulled the screw from the bottle: pop! The cork burst satisfyingly, her hand jolting up. She loved this part; it might even be what she loved most about wine, more than the tipsiness or the taste.
Amber strode into the living room, holding the bottle by its neck and supporting the bottom with her other hand. "I like action movies--" she started, then stopped when she saw Eric sprawled all over her couch like Burt Reynolds. She snorted. So confident and so Eric. "So much for taking it slow," she said, exasperated-- not that she'd been helping much in that regard, but she'd still stayed within better boundaries than that! He hadn't even turned on the TV!
Amber staked out her territory by sitting on the edge where his feet were; she had no idea what would happen later, but it was too early to propose being horizontal on the couch. She reached out first for the remote control and flicked on the TV; it was too early for the prime-time shows, but there was always CNN. She then poured them their drinks, passing Eric his glass. "Think you can drink that lying down?" she teased, a single eyebrow raised. She understood why he’d gotten so settled; even she didn’t really know how far was too far, and they were both feeling it out. At most she was amused by his blatant attempt to take things a bit further. It was honest of him, and she appreciated that. And who knew, they might end up in that same position once they’d downed more of the wine.