I have no explanation except that I saw someone's random facebook post and just started writing.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: "For the record I think you're being ridiculous." "Fine with me as long as you take them."
Gentleman: a civilized, educated, sensitive, or well-mannered man.
They had a wonderful night. He took her out to dinner at her favorite pizza place before then taking her to the little ice cream parlor where she took him after their first date. They even got all dressed up, even though there was clearly nothing conventional about this date.
But they liked to think that they were some degree of quirky.
It was fun. They laughed and told embarrassing stories – about themselves and each other. He was surprised that he had never heard most of hers. He had leaned against the counter they were sitting at, chin in hand, as she told a particularly entertaining tale about that night of her sophomore year of college when she got taken to a horrendously pathetic western-themed club and face-planted in the middle of line dancing. The sound of her laugh was like a symphony in his ears.
This date is definitely near the top of the 'best dates' list.
And, he thinks, being married meant a possibility to do this many more times.
They're walking down the street towards their building when he feels her steps begin to falter and fall off-rhythm. She lets out the slightest moan. Just one small tell of her discomfort.
She just hums in answer.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Kay," he sighs, and pulls her just a little bit closer. It's not cold at all, really. He just likes the feel of her fitted into his side.
She groans again a few minutes later, enough to make him stop and pull her over on the sidewalk. A few people pass them as she hobbles over to where he's standing holding her fingertips.
She's hobbling? That's not good.
"Honestly. You're sure you're okay?"
She swallows hard and nods, not meeting his eyes. "I'm fine. My shoes are just…less broken in than I thought."
He sighs with a smile, reaching up to tuck a few pieces of hair behind her ear. He lets the side of his thumb linger against her cheek, nudging just slightly so that she looks up at him. She didn't want to, he can tell, but does, looking at him with a sore, almost embarrassed look.
"Come on," she begs, "let's just get home and enjoy the rest of the night."
"No, no!" He tugs her back before she can take another pain-inducing step away. "Hang on."
"What're you doing?" He ignores her inquisition as he leans against the side of the building, doubled over.
When she realizes what he's doing she puts a hand on his shoulder. "No, really. Come on," she starts again, "we're not that far, I can make it."
He stands up, showing her that adorable smile that always seems to make her melt. He doesn't look at all phased by what he's done.
"Exactly," He nods downwards, "if we're so close than it doesn't matter, right?" He leans forward and kisses her forehead in an attempt to reassure her that he really doesn't mind. "Just take them."
He's standing in front of her holding out his shoes.
She lets out a mix of a laugh and a sigh, shaking her head at his gesture. Sweet, though, it is. "Fine," she agrees finally. "But for the record I think you're being ridiculous."
"Fine with me as long as you take them."
With one hand on his shoulder she leans over as he did, taking off the offending stilettos. She hands them over, in exchange for the oxfords, not missing the satisfied look in those blue eyes of his. They're a little big on her feet, but enough that she can make it the rest of the way without loosing circulation in her toes or slicing up her heels. "Happy?" She questions.
"Very." He hands her back her heels, takes her hand in his, and motions for them to continue their walk. "Don't lie, you feel better."
"Maybe," she smiles, "You sure you're okay like that?" She nudges his side, keeping the tight hold on her own shoes, dangling from her fingers in the hand not laced with her husband's.
They look down as they reach the cross walk, stopped, waiting for the signal to change. He wiggles his toes in his black socks, "Perfectly."
The couple continues home without much more conversation, until they're getting in the elevator, ready to go up.
"I think I can make it the rest of the way." She slides her feet out of his shoes and hands them back over. "Thank you," she kisses his cheek as the elevator pings and the doors begin to slide closed. "You, Kevin Ryan are a true gentleman."
Just a little fluffy something to start the week. :) Hope you liked it!