Joe Goldberg is beginning to wonder if there's any more decent people in the world. With both Candace and Beck out of the picture, he's feeling lonely and starting to give up on love. That is, until Leila comes sobbing into Mooney's. Fragile and vul...
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I never thought I'd be this nervous, but you rattled me.
That phone call, I-
I don't know, you seemed-?
Scared.
I hated hearing you like that, so weak. I'm not going to lie, Leila. I was really hoping for something, but I knew it was a long shot. Good girls like you don't put out. You make guys work for it, prove that they're worthy of your love. To think that there's a chance you're completely untouched by another man is...exciting? And I'm trying to show you I'll really appreciate you in the way you need.
Which, again, is why I come with gifts.
In retrospect, I shouldn't have bought so much. Hobbling around with all these bags makes climbing the stairs to your porch a major struggle. But I steady myself, maneuvering around the canvas sacks to ball my hand into a tight fist. I hesitate, staring down the door, preparing myself to knock. My lungs scream at me to release the air I've welled up inside, and slowly I bring the knuckles to the door growing taller by each dreaded second. Just before they make contact, you open. Firm smile, kind eyes, and the delicate scent of honey lavender dancing around your tender figure. I fall victim to it's fragrance, letting it swirls around my head like smoke and carry me past the threshold into your home.
"Welcome, I'm really glad you could make it." All traces of fear have left your voice, and hearing you so free has eased some of my own insecurity. I follow you to the small section of house you call 'kitchen' letting the bags slide off my arms onto the table. You busy yourself unloading.
I'm awkward and quite.
And left wanting to shed my winter skin.
You really do hate the cold, don't you? Your place must be warmed to a steady 78 degrees. Impressive, considering this glorified box doesn't offer much in the area of ventilation. Even so, the heat weasels it's way under my layers and scratches against my flesh forcing me to jerk the scarf from my neck. I purse my lips, noticing for the first time the series of candles burning in the background. A sort of ambiance echoes around me. It smells amazing. Subtle. Earthy, and just a little sweet. Are you teasing me?
No, no.
I can't handle getting my hopes up now, I have to play nice. Be on my best behavior. I can't mess this up, but it's hard to miss the romance in the dim lighting. And, damn. Now that I'm close to you- I see you've actually tried to look nice for me.
Your hair is damp from the shower, but you neatly braided it back into a crown around your head. And though you're dressed down, somehow you've managed to make pajamas look appealing. Sensual. A thick knit oversize pink sweater and gray leggings with wool socks cover and hug your curves in all the right places.
