Tristan's Decision [COMPLETED]

Asks Her Out

"I'm curious to see what your third impression will be like," Tristan said.

Hope cocked an eyebrow, her lips quirked into a playful look.

"Do you have an idea in mind where I can make this third impression?"

"I do. Go out with me." Tristan spoke with an unwavering confidence as if he were telling time, ordering coffee or predicting the weather.

"Do you often ask out your dancers?" Hope asked.

"Only the good ones," he said echoing her words.

The laugh Tristan had hoped to hear escaped her and he was not disappointed. It was light and musical.

"When?" she asked, eyes still shining with laughter.

"Tonight."

"Eager."

"More like free. It's not often I am free at nights and I don't plan on wasting it."

"Then let's not waste it."

Hope gave him her number and collected her bag.

"I'll wait for your text," she said. "If I know one thing about Tristan McKenzie is that he doesn't disappoint."

She left and Tristan watched her going, admiring more than before the grace in which she moved. Retrieving his own things, he departed the studio, plans for the night forming in his mind. The final touches were being put together as he walked the quiet street to the brick house.

Evening was caressing the sky and lamps popped on overhead. Murmurs of lives came from the surrounding houses, like notes in a bottle you would never understand until you opened them.        

When he opened the front door, he found the house quiet, strips of light coming from upstairs. As quietly as he could, he climbed the steps and slipped into his room. Showered and changed into a pair of slacks and black button-down shirt, he stood before the bathroom mirror styling his hair. Thoughts of the night's event filled his head and he left...content.

"I thought I sensed the presence of genius," Elliot said, leaning on the doorway.

Tristan met her gaze in the reflection but made no comment. Elliot opened her mouth but then closed it, frowning.

"Cece!" she called.

"Go away!" was the reply.

"Come here! It's an emergency."

A grumbling, stomping sound emanated from down the hallway, a harbinger of Cece's state. When she stopped beside Elliot, she was scowling.

"What!" she said.

Elliot didn't look at her sister, instead, she was staring at Tristan, a look of concern and fear on her face.

"What's wrong with his face?" she whispered.

Puzzled, Cece stuck her head into the bathroom and studied Tristan. Then the scowl she had worn dropped away, replaced by shock.

"Oh dear," she murmured, "what do you think is wrong?"

"It can't be anything we did," Elliot said.

"Do you think something happened on the way home?" '

"That is a stupid question, you know how he feels about humans, trees, and air."

"Right, then what could it be?"

Finally annoyed enough with the mutterings, Tristan faced them, scowling. The look brought on expressions of relief and they sank against the door frame. Cece even put a hand over her heart.