Explain Myself [Remy]

[[ LOST HALF THIS TRANSCRIPT WILL FILL IN LATER ]]

[Remy] Beautiful he might be, but there's no finesse, no polish whatsoever to the muscular young Godi in Drew's dining room/den. He sits hunkered over, legs crossed indian-style, shoulders and chest so thick they seem fit to burst out of the plain thermal t-shirt he has on under everything else he had on. He shifts uncomfortably as she so easily forgives him -- praises him, even -- for respecting boundaries. Remembering her mate. All that.

"Yeah well," he says, slurping another sip of coffee before setting the mug down. In two quick, thoughtless gestures he tugs his shirt out where it had ridden up under his arms, then picks the mug up again in his big hands, almost restless. "That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. I kinda just ... blurted it out last night. That I thought you were hot."

He takes a gulp of coffee. Too big. It scalds him on the way down, making him grimace and wince. Remy takes his coffee with a little cream, no sugar; when he sets the mug down yet again, the rich brown liquid inside is still visibly steaming.

"I just wanted you to know it wasn't some hidden declaration of love or anything. I mean, I like you. And I do think you're pretty cute. Plus you've got that... y'know, a bit of that je ne sais quoi that turns heads. Especially Garou heads. But I figure you for a friend, all right? We barely know each other. You just lost your mate. I get that and I respect it. You don't have to start wearing chastity belts around me."

His eyes are downcast. Idly, absently, he plays with the little spoon in the mug, swirling it around and around until there's a veritable whirlpool in his cup. Letting that slowly spin down, he looks at Drew at last.

"Anyway, that's what I came to say."

[Drew Roscoe] Drew's sitting in a manner quite similar to Remy, but instead of hunching forward so drastically she's straightened up some, posture drilled to be better by years of lessons, but enough time has passed between them and now that it wasn't so stiff. She sipped her coffee, then set the mug on top of her thigh and shifted her position, stretching her legs out toward the fireplace to warm her toes and propping her left hand on the floor behind her to maintain balance.

She's got her loosely-tied ponytail over one shoulder, and is smiling warmly over at the handsome Godi that, understandably, was typically mistaken for anything but. The smile has a hint of apology to it, and she shakes her head some when he closes his words up simply.

"I'm not oblivious. I noticed." Not full of herself, she doesn't present this like she thinks all eyes follow her up the street or that she could have a string of lovers trailing in her wake. She's too down to earth for that, too practical. She was the kind of girl that worked with her hands, as opposed to the kind that would charm a man into doing it for her. Yet that didn't make her an ignorant, sexless little girl either. She'd caught glances, trailing eyes from the Godi, and figured he wouldn't continue accompanying her on things as silly as visiting Last Watch and hunting for a young Rotagar out in a blizzard if he didn't at least enjoy her company.

She's hesitant to continue from that point, but it was only fair. Remy'd come out through the continuing blizzard to see her, to talk to her. He'd had the respect to do so in person rather than muttering awkwardly over the phone. She owed him that much honesty in return.

"Were timing different, Remy? I'd give it a shot. You're downright intolerable sometimes," and this is said with an affectionate grin, honest but accepting, "with all the fighting and egging on, but that's in your guys's nature to a point. I can't fault that too heavily. The rest of the time, though... Like this? Now? It's nice. You're good company. I like being around you, going out for beers and shooting the shit."

She nips at her lower lip with her incisor. "It's far from fair to ask anyone to wait around, I won't do that."

It seems she could add more to that, might have been considering, but decides against for one reason or another. Instead she brings her mug to her lips and takes another drink, this one deeper than the small sips she'd been nursing the drink with but not fast enough to scald and make her flinch like what Remy had done with his.

[Remy] Something almost shy about Remy in the last few moments. Stumbling words, hesitation between. Now, though, when she tells him not to wait around for her, his grin splits wide and white. It's his usual self again: loud, boisterous, cocky.

"Don't you worry about me. I won't be hanging around your doorstep pining away for the day, missing out on sweet tail in the meantime. If some fine young mama sees fit to bat her eyelashes at me, you can bet you ass I'm gonna go get mine. My life's too short to be waiting around, sweet-tits."

-- not exactly the declaration of eternal fidelity and faith one might hope for. Not exactly the respect and courtesy he implicitly promised, either. But then Remy lifts his mug again, takes a smaller, more careful sip, dark eyes all but twinkling over the rim. When he lowers it, he licks coffee off his upper lip and smiles, and it's a genuine smile, warmer, not so full of bluster.

"But. Y'know. If the day comes that moving on stops feeling so much like betraying a beloved's memory, you should let me know. Until then maybe we'll just keep grabbing beers now and then."

[Drew Roscoe] She's smirking right back at him while he's promising her that he'd be more than happy to go chase a tail that wagged for him, but not bothering to correct. She's stepped out onto the street with him several times before, seen how girls (and the occasional guy) will stare with a relaxed jaw at him, how some of those will take a second to shoot daggers in her direction. She neverminds it, but she knows that for Remy there'll be no shortage of opportunity.

His life was too short, he said, and she nodded faintly. He was perfectly right on that one, their lives were too short. Far too short.

But he switches gears, more warm than bolstering. Says that if the day comes, when she feels less like it would be betrayal, she should tell him. When the day came that she could think about moving on and not compare every detail to Joe, then perhaps she would. She says so.

"Y'know, I think that sounds about perfect."