I'm Not Excited [DISCONTINUED; REBOOTED]

Stargazers & Muses

Never pick sides
Never choose between two
But I just wanted you
Never pick sides
Never choose between two
But I just wanted you

Ezra held Illyana's waist tightly, whispering the lyrics into her ears.

I think you're Contra
I think that you lie
Don't call me Contra
Till you've tried

She wrapped her arms around his and closed her eyes as the voice sang. "Sing it again," Illyana whispered.

Ezra chuckled and buried his head on her neck, nuzzling it. "I hope you realize that song was about my ex-girlfriend," Ezra teased the redhead, who pulled away. "Gee, thanks for the hand-me-down," she pouted playfully. Ezra reached out for her and smiled. "Inspire me, Czarina Romanov."

Czarina? Hmm...

"I'm no one's muse, Ez. I don't work that way. I cover the men who write about their muses -..." Illyana trailed off and looked around. "You've got a starry night you can write about. The New York City rain. The scent of the after rain, the fresh mud and grass. You don't need to write about me."

Ezra placed his hands in his pockets, giving the girl a curious look. "This... Simplicity makes you more charming. You make me want to write about you... About this night..." He trailed off and looked her in the eyes. "Green eyed girl, rainy city and starry night. Your sole presence inspired me, Romanov."

Breathless. Awed. Words couldn't describe her inside thoughts, but there was no need. "I hate you so much, Koenig. You've no clue, you idjit."

Ezra looked amused, enjoying Illyana's silly banter. "You're adorable," he leaned in and kissed her forehead, disrupting the neat order of her bangs. "Look, a horse carriage!" Ezra exclaimed, pointing to a parked horse carriage. He offered her his arm, which she happily took. They walked through a dim trail where barely any human soul roamed.
__________________________

"Good evening!" Greeted Ezra, "I'd like a ride for two around the park."

The driver looked up, and squinted. "Say, where have I seen you before?" He asked in a deep British accent.

Ezra looked at Illyana. "He's one of your kind," he said jokingly before turning back to the man. "Mm, I wouldn't know, sir. Around the street, perhaps? I'm from Brooklyn."

The man shook his head. "No, no. I've seen you in the TV."

Illyana hid her face behind Ezra's arm, trying to choke back a chuckle.

Ezra scratched his head. "I've never been on TV. I do get told I look a lot like Roger Federer." Ezra took his wallet out and handed the man fifty dollars. "Keep the change," he added.

The man furrowed his brow; yes, he'd seen this face before - and it was most definitely a known face. Rarely anyone ever told him to keep the change.
__________________________

Cuddled in the carriage, sharing a warm blanket, Illyana and Ezra silently admired the New York view of the late night. In fact, Illyana had completely forgotten about being fully drenched, about how her hair was a complete red mess and about life itself. All she heard was the steps of the horse, the wheels of the carriage and the voice in her head which told her to enjoy.

"You're awfully quiet," Ezra finally broke the silence.

Illyana looked up at him and smiled. "Hmm? Y-yeah, I just... I don't do this often."

Ezra furrowed his brow. "Ride around in a carriage or get romanced by musicians?" He asked, the latter being his favorite choice.

"Mm, getting romanced by musicians should happen more often. It's actually fun - until, y'know, fangirls of said musicians attack."