Sighing in exasperation, Steve asked, "Exactly how cheesy would it be if I said as long as I'm with you, it'll be perfect?" He knew he sounded like a gigantic sap. He was comfortable enough with Rogue now to not care. Well, he cared a little, but not enough to keep censoring himself.
Not knowing any of her plans, but guessing she might become elaborate if he didn't speak up, Steve replied, "How about... we go for a picnic. A late lunch, around 2?" He didn't need anything fancy, and he didn't want to sit cooped up somewhere, either. This way, they'd be out in the open, which served a dual purpose, as it seemed to be about the only thing stopping them at this point from jumping each other. Plus, he loved the way she looked in the sun, her hair glinting chestnut and lily-white, her face gorgeous and picture perfect. He wanted to draw her; he could sit for hours and just look at her, trying to capture her on paper. He already knew he'd never succeed, but he would love trying, over and over again.
"We can go up to the roof of mine to watch the fireworks in the evening," he continued. "And then we can...go back downstairs, for a while. If you want." Knowing they were going to sleep together, and coming right out and saying it were apparently still two different things in his head. And while they were clearly headed in that direction - at break-neck speed - he never wanted to take the choice away from her. Yes, he wanted to make love with her - desperately, all right? - but he'd never pressure her into it, or assume that just because it was that way now, things wouldn't change. Clearly, things could change very rapidly between them.
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Not knowing any of her plans, but guessing she might become elaborate if he didn't speak up, Steve replied, "How about... we go for a picnic. A late lunch, around 2?" He didn't need anything fancy, and he didn't want to sit cooped up somewhere, either. This way, they'd be out in the open, which served a dual purpose, as it seemed to be about the only thing stopping them at this point from jumping each other. Plus, he loved the way she looked in the sun, her hair glinting chestnut and lily-white, her face gorgeous and picture perfect. He wanted to draw her; he could sit for hours and just look at her, trying to capture her on paper. He already knew he'd never succeed, but he would love trying, over and over again.
"We can go up to the roof of mine to watch the fireworks in the evening," he continued. "And then we can...go back downstairs, for a while. If you want." Knowing they were going to sleep together, and coming right out and saying it were apparently still two different things in his head. And while they were clearly headed in that direction - at break-neck speed - he never wanted to take the choice away from her. Yes, he wanted to make love with her - desperately, all right? - but he'd never pressure her into it, or assume that just because it was that way now, things wouldn't change. Clearly, things could change very rapidly between them.