Talking Practice Over Dinner

Glasses and dinnerware clink, laugher mixes with murmurs within the edible background noise. We are waiting for our plates to arrive.

“I’m really trying to work on my dialogue.” I gave a half hearted smile. “I want to make it more natural.”

She chuffs. “I really don’t think I’m the right person to be studying for that.”

My eyebrows raised in a height that she apparently could recognize. She was smirking at me as I tried to velvet the words. “-I could study you all ni… what, heard that one already?”

“Of course I have. You think you’re the only two-bit writer in town?”

“Is two bits all it takes to get a date with you?”

“We’ll see where that attitude takes you, buster.” A glimmer of flame in her lime iris makes the comment flirtatious.

I find myself fingering my silverware. “You’re doing a pretty good job so far.” I demurr.

“Hah. Speaking of good jobs,”

my face brightens

“-yours is getting away the more you keep opening your mouth.”

my aspect pulls an eclipse. Then the steak arrives, thank God.

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