I already wrote elsewhere today, well over 10 minutes. It was garbage.
I had forgotten about this place where I wanted to put all of my thoughts.
SO, here I start anew. Over a year since my last post.
I have no discipline.
But, I have been reading more and more lately, and thusly have been wanting to write more and more.
So, here it gooooooes, again.
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She was nervous. She had invited a man to her house, a man she hardly knew. She was going to cook him dinner to get to kno...
To seduce him. She wanted to seduce him. She knew she wanted to get to know him better, she really did, but what was really in control of this situation was the flutter she felt when he smirked at something witty she said, or the rush of warmth she got the closer his body got to hers. It had been a while since she had felt that spark, that magentic pull, and that was a lot more fun than getting tangled up in feelings.
But the cooking calmed her nerves. She wasn't much of a domestic goddess, but she knew she was good at cooking.
Time management, however, had never been her strong suit. She glanced at the clock and realized that she was at least 20 minutes behind, glanced at her mess of a kitchen, and then down at her disheveled appearance.
Shit. She had five minutes to get changed and look put together before he was due to arrive. The rest of the food was going to have to wait so that she could be at least borderline presentable. She had had so many plans about answering the door, dinner almost ready, her face fully made up and hair twisted neatly, gently tossing a salad. She glanced at the shower, feeling the sweat on her skin and deciding that, with as much cooking as she had left to do, it wasn't even worth it. She slipped out of her long cotton lounge pants and food stained t shirt and slipped on the casual black dress she had laid out earlier. She was thankful that it was cotton and breezy and would at least hide most of anything she could get on it while she finished cooking. She opted to skip adding any more jewelry to the small pieces she usually wore, brushed a little makeup over her face, and was just finishing touching up her eye makeup and reapplying the tinted red lipstick from earlier when the door bell rang. She panicked, tossed her hair up in a clip, slipped on the simple ballet flats by the door, and was surprised at how put together she looked as she dashed past the mirror to the door. She certainly didn't feel it.
She took a deep breath, counted to three to calm her nerves, and gently pulled back the door.
He was devilishly handsome holding a bottle of red wine and a small bouquet of flowers. "Hey, she smiled, the warmth she started to feel oddly calming. "Come in."
He grinned and stepped in, handing her the wine and the bottle of red wine, "For the lady," he said.
She explained to him about running late and invited him in with her to the kitchen, apologizing for her mess. He laughed and picked up the tops of the beets she had roasting from the counter and asked, "Can I help you with anything. do you want me to toss these?"
"No, no," I'm using those. He raised his eyebrows. "With roasted beets. They're delicious if you cook them right."
"yes, yes they are. but most poeple don't."
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