[He's trying, even if he does look like a bit like, yes, a fish has just hit him in the face. However, the good thing about being Cloud Strife is that it's awfully easy to fall back into his default state, which appears relatively the opposite of the "deer in headlights" look. He clears his throat, shifting back into this state, though there might be the smallest remnant of being caught off-guard still floating around in his expression somewhere.]
Sorry. Yeah. That's what I meant. I'll go on a date with you.
[He's flattered? Maybe a little embarrassed, but -- this is basically not how he expected the night to go, but he supposes it isn't exactly a bad thing either.]
[And that, probably, is an attempt at getting him to laugh; it certainly comes accompanied by a wink and a self-satisfied look, as she sits back in her chair and arranges her arms neatly folded across her lap.]
That doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you for the rest of the game, though.
[The game-- oh, right. It's his turn. He lifts himself out of his seat, moving to take it.]
You strike me as the kind of person that doesn't usually go easy on anyone. That's fine, I wouldn't want you to, anyway.
[A small grin, but there goes the ball and... the pins are knocked over, all ten of them. A lucky strike, which isn't out of the realm of possibility; he's not so below-average that they'll always escape him.]
[Never let it be said that she doesn't give credit where credit is due, either; that shot earns him a round of light applause from the bench, and a winning smile when he ends up turning back around to see it.
Also can you believe this is only the fifth frame, they are legitimately only halfway done at this point.]
You'll have to tell me more about the kind of person I strike you as, someday.
[She says, leaning just slightly more heavily on the word "strike" as she echoes his own phrasing, because puns are wonderful things and he sure did just hit one of his own.]
Going to do your due diligence until then, are you?
[Off she goes to take her turn, herself; though she's not yet at the point of hitting strikes, she's at least managing to consistently maintain sevens, eights, and nines on her frames now.]
All right. I can't honestly say I've ever had much of a problem with knowing I'm being watched. It's sort of fun, really.
That sounds better. The whole point of a date, right?
[Not that he's been on very many of those, but. You know, even Cloud understands how they work.
Anyway, it's his turn. He's hoping to get a good frame this time, to bolster his strike from before, but it ends up being mediocre at best. Another seven, it seems, as the ball crashes into its pins.]
Oh, I like that answer. Will we be having a bowling rematch on our next date, or did you want to do something else instead?
[Speaking of being the focus of one's attention, she watches him take his turn with open interest, and as he makes his way back she can't help but tease a little.]
[Deadpan, but spoken embarrassingly quick in return.]
I don't get flustered easily. [He says, which may or may not be all that true. It's easy enough to sell, when he's as stoic as he is.] A bowling rematch would be fun, but that's not r-
[Wow he was just about to say something highly embarrassing like romantic because he falls on default notions like that because he has no experience and wow shut up Cloud-brain. h e l p]
...really a date if we're just doing the same thing. Let's find something else to do.
[So much for not getting flustered easily, Cleopatra. How's life in de Nile?
The good news is, she doesn't know exactly what he was about to say, even though it's obvious that what he was going to say isn't what ultimately came out of his mouth. But even the best detective can't read minds, and even speaking four languages can't make her automatically know how that sentence was originally going to finish.
So for a second, she just reflects. It is, of course, her nature to push boundaries; she wouldn't be herself if she didn't. The trick, however, is being able to navigate gracefully when a boundary ought to be pushed, and when it really needs to be left alone.
But no. He's quiet at times, yes, and a little awkward in places, maybe. But he's also been constantly surprising her the whole night with his flashes of quick wit and bright humor underneath the quiet, and there'll come a time when she'll need to back off and give him his space, but she's willing to bet that it isn't this moment right now.]
Well, my only condition is, nothing that involves a lot of sitting around being quiet. You're too much fun to talk to.
[She smiles, hopping up to take her turn.]
You could let me wear your letterman sweater and take me to the sock hop.
[It's a concession that he's unaware of, but would be appreciative of it if he knew. He hates making any given situation awkward, especially being aware of his own shortcomings when it sometimes comes to social interactions. And he's observant enough to know how people are often expecting him to react, sometimes the issue is just following through with it.
Still, Cloud chuckles a little at her remark.]
The sock hop? Sure, let me just go find my time machine.
Your motorcycle can do eighty-eight miles an hour, can't it? Easy.
[It's very obvious, now, that the real game is the one that she and Cloud are playing with words at this point, as opposed to the bowling, but that doesn't mean she's not still trying her best at it. Indeed, it's almost as though she's thriving on the attention, because she ends up hitting her first strike of the night once she lets her ball fly.]
There it is. So, is that a no to dancing altogether, or just to sock-hopping?
[He's impressed at the strike, to be sure. Eyebrows lifting slightly, then he cranes his neck up to look at the score, which I only assume is close-ish because I haven't actually been adding it all up.
He looks back at her, remarking before walking forward to take his own turn.]
I'll dance if you like dancing.
[Can he dance, though? That's another story altogether. S...ure. Maybe?]
[NECK AND NECK WORKS. They're within mere points of each other, probably. Maybe.]
I was never much of a "jump on the dance floor" kind of guy.
[Which should not at all be surprising, given what she can likely glean from his personality right now.] But that doesn't mean I won't have fun. There's a difference between not having a good time doing something, and just not being used to it.
[He'll take his turn, which ends up with him knocking over eight pins. Good, but it's no strike. At least she can't tease him about being flustered this time.]
[At the end of the day a coin toss will be executed and that will determine the winner. Or they'll tie. Majesty ensues.]
I certainly appreciate your willingness to try new things. And don't worry, I'll make sure to let go of any fantasies of being the Ginger Rogers to your Fred Astaire.
[And off she goes for her own frame, likewise landing a respectable eight — and once again falling victim to another seven-ten split.]
That is, unless you want to see me try to do everything you do backwards and in heels.
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Sorry. Yeah. That's what I meant. I'll go on a date with you.
[He's flattered? Maybe a little embarrassed, but -- this is basically not how he expected the night to go, but he supposes it isn't exactly a bad thing either.]
no subject
[And that, probably, is an attempt at getting him to laugh; it certainly comes accompanied by a wink and a self-satisfied look, as she sits back in her chair and arranges her arms neatly folded across her lap.]
That doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you for the rest of the game, though.
no subject
You strike me as the kind of person that doesn't usually go easy on anyone. That's fine, I wouldn't want you to, anyway.
[A small grin, but there goes the ball and... the pins are knocked over, all ten of them. A lucky strike, which isn't out of the realm of possibility; he's not so below-average that they'll always escape him.]
That's more like it.
no subject
Also can you believe this is only the fifth frame, they are legitimately only halfway done at this point.]
You'll have to tell me more about the kind of person I strike you as, someday.
[She says, leaning just slightly more heavily on the word "strike" as she echoes his own phrasing, because puns are wonderful things and he sure did just hit one of his own.]
Fair's fair.
no subject
When he turns around, his grin is there too. Her applause makes him a little self-conscious, but it's still pleased nonetheless.
The pun doesn't escape him as he moves to take his seat again.]
Sure. Give me until our... uh, date, and then I'll give you my full opinion of you.
no subject
[Off she goes to take her turn, herself; though she's not yet at the point of hitting strikes, she's at least managing to consistently maintain sevens, eights, and nines on her frames now.]
All right. I can't honestly say I've ever had much of a problem with knowing I'm being watched. It's sort of fun, really.
no subject
[He runs his fingers through his hair, absent-mindedly.]
"Being watched". Makes me sound creepy.
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[It gets a laugh out of her, however, as she makes her way back to her seat.]
How about "being a focus of your attention"?
no subject
[Not that he's been on very many of those, but. You know, even Cloud understands how they work.
Anyway, it's his turn. He's hoping to get a good frame this time, to bolster his strike from before, but it ends up being mediocre at best. Another seven, it seems, as the ball crashes into its pins.]
no subject
[Speaking of being the focus of one's attention, she watches him take his turn with open interest, and as he makes his way back she can't help but tease a little.]
You're not getting flustered, are you?
no subject
[Deadpan, but spoken embarrassingly quick in return.]
I don't get flustered easily. [He says, which may or may not be all that true. It's easy enough to sell, when he's as stoic as he is.] A bowling rematch would be fun, but that's not r-
[Wow he was just about to say something highly embarrassing like romantic because he falls on default notions like that because he has no experience and wow shut up Cloud-brain. h e l p]
...really a date if we're just doing the same thing. Let's find something else to do.
no subject
The good news is, she doesn't know exactly what he was about to say, even though it's obvious that what he was going to say isn't what ultimately came out of his mouth. But even the best detective can't read minds, and even speaking four languages can't make her automatically know how that sentence was originally going to finish.
So for a second, she just reflects. It is, of course, her nature to push boundaries; she wouldn't be herself if she didn't. The trick, however, is being able to navigate gracefully when a boundary ought to be pushed, and when it really needs to be left alone.
But no. He's quiet at times, yes, and a little awkward in places, maybe. But he's also been constantly surprising her the whole night with his flashes of quick wit and bright humor underneath the quiet, and there'll come a time when she'll need to back off and give him his space, but she's willing to bet that it isn't this moment right now.]
Well, my only condition is, nothing that involves a lot of sitting around being quiet. You're too much fun to talk to.
[She smiles, hopping up to take her turn.]
You could let me wear your letterman sweater and take me to the sock hop.
no subject
Still, Cloud chuckles a little at her remark.]
The sock hop? Sure, let me just go find my time machine.
[A shrug of his shoulders.]
But duly noted. No sitting around being quiet.
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[It's very obvious, now, that the real game is the one that she and Cloud are playing with words at this point, as opposed to the bowling, but that doesn't mean she's not still trying her best at it. Indeed, it's almost as though she's thriving on the attention, because she ends up hitting her first strike of the night once she lets her ball fly.]
There it is. So, is that a no to dancing altogether, or just to sock-hopping?
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He looks back at her, remarking before walking forward to take his own turn.]
I'll dance if you like dancing.
[Can he dance, though? That's another story altogether. S...ure. Maybe?]
no subject
That doesn't tell me anything about whether you like it. It's not worth it if only one of us is having fun.
[She fiddles with the ends of her hair, absently pulling the whole mane over her shoulder as she toys with the long, curling locks of it.]
I do like it, though. But I like a lot of things, too.
no subject
I was never much of a "jump on the dance floor" kind of guy.
[Which should not at all be surprising, given what she can likely glean from his personality right now.] But that doesn't mean I won't have fun. There's a difference between not having a good time doing something, and just not being used to it.
[He'll take his turn, which ends up with him knocking over eight pins. Good, but it's no strike. At least she can't tease him about being flustered this time.]
So yeah, we can do dancing.
no subject
I certainly appreciate your willingness to try new things. And don't worry, I'll make sure to let go of any fantasies of being the Ginger Rogers to your Fred Astaire.
[And off she goes for her own frame, likewise landing a respectable eight — and once again falling victim to another seven-ten split.]
That is, unless you want to see me try to do everything you do backwards and in heels.