[Closed] Chance Encounters (Chrysanthe)

[Georgianna Morgenstern]

Bethas 37, 2720
Georgie's flat, evening.

For a moment, Georgie feared that she had bungled it. She had just kept talking, words pouring out. Chrysanthe had laughed, and she wasn’t sure whether to take it as a good sign or not. She feared that if she blushed any more, steam would come pouring out her ears. Her doubts and concerns didn’t last long, thought. They were washed away when Chrysanthe admitted that she wasn’t seeing anyone, and accepted Georgie’s invitation to dinner. Georgie sighed, smiling, and placed her other hand over Chrysanthe’s, her field turning bright and bastly.

“Good,” she said, “I’m glad. I’m free most nights, so when really just depends on—”

She was interrupted by Chrysanthe leaning in to kiss her cheek. It was a soft, chaste brush of the other woman’s lips along her skin, but it made whatever words she was about to say fall away out of her reach. She was surprised, and that surprise only increased when she turned her head and Chrysanthe caught her lips this time. Her mind ground to a halt for a second, before her eyes slipped closed and she moved to kiss her back, turning into it, one of her hands raising to rest on the crook of Chrysanthe’s shoulder. She pulled back after a moment, but not far, resting her forehead against the other woman’s.

“And here I was, worried you’d say no,” she said with a soft chuckle.

She sat up a bit more, still staying quite close, and reached up to brush Chrysanthe’s hair behind her ear. She was amused to discover it was exactly as soft as it looked. As far as first kisses went, that had certainly been one of her better ones. She very much wanted to kiss Chrysanthe again, but the little voice in her head that told her they were moving too fast was very insistent. She sighed softly, knowing that it had a point.

“I don’t want to spoil this,” she began, “I would very much like to kiss you again, but… we’ve both had a bit to drink… and I don’t want to end up doing something that we’ll regret by going too fast.”

[Chrysanthe Palmifer]

Evening, 37 Bethas, 2720
Georgie’s Flat, Uptown

Georgie leaned in to kiss her back, and Chrysanthe found it easy – good lady, blissfully easy – to simply melt into the kiss. Georgie pulled away, although only a little; more than close enough, Chrysanthe thought ruefully, for her to close the distance between them against quite easily.

We shouldn’t, Chrysanthe thought to say; not tonight, not yet. No matter how badly she wanted to, or how beautiful the other girl was in the firelight. She’d meant the kiss as encouragement, nothing – well, all right, not much – more, and she had a terrible feeling that if Georgie kissed her again, she’d entirely lose whatever propriety she had left, and find it had washed away with the gin and the wine and the giddy excitement in her stomach.

Georgie tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and Chrysanthe smiled. The other woman sighed, softly, and Chrysanthe nearly laughed, the noise echoed her own feelings so well. “No, I quite agree,” she said, aware that there was a little reluctance in her voice. Her tongue ran over her lips, and she sat up a bit more as well, leaning her shoulder against Georgie once more. Her hand was still holding the other woman’s; she glanced down at them, smiling, and then back at Georgie once more.

“It’d be easy to get carried away with you, I think,” Chrysanthe said, ruefully, smiling a little at the other woman. She wasn’t sure she ought to have put it like that; she wasn’t sure how she ought to have put it, or whether she ought to have said it at all. She had thought, perhaps, just a bit, about the possibility of this moment; she found now that she had thought very, very little past it. Chrysanthe took a deep breath.

“I’m afraid I work rather late most nights,” Chrysanthe said. She hesitated, although not enough to stop herself from speaking. “Is it terribly forward of me to ask if you’re free on the nine?” She could certainly leave the factory early on a nine, if she even went in. Perhaps she wouldn’t, Chrysanthe thought, rather determinedly. She like the idea of it; she was salaried, of course, so there wasn’t even any compensation for all the nines she’d spent bent over piping, doing calculations, casting spells and examining sheets of glass and other machinery. Her only plans for the fourtieth were to go have tea with Amaryllis and play with Phileander while she had the chance, and that wasn’t until afternoon.

It did seem rather forward, all the same. She felt as if she ought to wait a week or two, properly, suitably; self-doubt crept in, just a little, although there wasn’t too much room for it with excitement bright in Georgie’s darker eyes, and her lips still tingling just a little with the memory of their kiss.

[Georgianna Morgenstern]

Bethas 37, 2720
Georgie's flat, evening.

Georgie breathed a quiet sigh of relief as Chrysanthe agreed with her. She was glad of it. Some little part of her, she realized, had been concerned that Chrysanthe would take her wanting to go slower badly. It seemed silly now. It was best not to rush things. The thrill of seeing each other after so long, coupled with the alcohol and the newness of everything was powerful, and it would have been so easy to get swept away in the current of it. She smiled as Chrysanthe voiced the very same concern, a soft chuckle escaping her.

“I agree,” she said, lifting the hand she was holding to her lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “You’re really quite tempting.”

Chrysanthe took a deep breath, and then continued speaking. The nine was two days away. It wasn’t the longest span of time. In fact, it was really quite short. Georgie had dated women before who would have considered that still to be moving too fast, but even a little time apart would still give them time to clear their heads a little. She thought a bit about the day itself. She didn’t have much planned for that evening; there was a figure drawing class in the morning that she was planning on attending, and she had planned on spending the afternoon in the studio room, but the evening was open. She smiled and nodded.

“You’ll find I keep rather late hours myself,” she said, “I’ve always been a bit of a night owl.

She shifted slightly, leaning lightly against Chrysanthe, her thumb once again stroking along the other woman's hand. "The nine works fine for me, I’m free that evening. I’m still rather unfamiliar with the city, so I'll have to leave it to you to pick the place, but dinner is my treat.”

[Chrysanthe Palmifer]

Evening, 37 Bethas, 2720
Georgie’s Flat, Uptown

Georgie kissing her hand did very little for Chrysanthe’s resolve, but she knew better than to yield to such temptations. Not, Chrysanthe thought, with someone like Georgie, not with the both of them well beyond Brunnhold age or even just past it, when perhaps such indiscretions could be forgiven due to extreme youth.

Not, Chrysanthe thought a little guiltily, that she had always behaved with perfect propriety. She did her best not to think of anything she had done in the Rose, and not, either, to think of any ill-advised decisions she might have made in Gior. She knew she ought to, but she found it hard to regret them - even those that had ended badly. It had been, she thought, like discovering a new limb; she had needed so badly to exercise it, after so long of not even knowing she had held it still.

Georgie was free on the nine, and didn’t - Chrysanthe wasn’t exactly sure what she had feared. Georgie bring put off by her eagerness, she supposed.

“If you insist,” Chrysanthe said with a smile. She found herself already trying to think of what Georgie would like. “Is there anything I ought to know about what you do or don’t eat?” Chrysanthe grinned at Georgie, doing her best to make conversation through the distracting sweep the other woman’s thumb over her hand. “Have you sworn off meat or perhaps spices?”

“I could take you for Gioran,” Chrysanthe went on, and laughed. “There is one place actually - completely underground and the walls all stone, and they serve very traditional mushrooms and lichen. But - I’d like you to enjoy our dinner,” she was grinning wider, “so I think I ought to find somewhere else.”

Gioran food had been rather a shock to the system; Chrysanthe had managed, and there had been dishes she had even enjoyed, but not so privately she felt that she should rather not eat too much in the way of Gioran food once more. There were a few who had done their post graduate studies in Gior living in Vienda, and they had gone to this restaurant for a meet up, as a sort of reunion.

Afterwards, Coralinette had remarked that the restaurant and ambiance both represented all the worst of Gior without any of the good. It had been, Chrysanthe thought, perhaps harsh - but also true. There was good; it just wasn’t the cuisine.

That was neither here nor there; she had mentioned it, really, only to tease. For Georgie, she thought, she wanted something - a bit romantic, but interesting too. She would have to think on it, Chrysanthe felt, smiling at the other woman. She couldn’t have taken Georgie anywhere like Someplace Cheap, where she had been with Baz and Charlie in the Rose - before. All the same, she half wished she could find something with that artistic atmosphere.

[Georgianna Morgenstern]

Bethas 37, 2720
Georgie's flat, late evening.

Georgie had to chuckle as Chrysanthe brought up the underground Gioran restaurant. She had actually heard of it before, but only because of the novelty. One of the other students in her program had mentioned it, and said she wanted to see it. Georgie couldn’t imagine that it was really anything quite like Gior itself, which was only cemented more when Chrysanthe mentioned that she wanted them to enjoy their meal. Perhaps someday it would make a good destination, but she didn’t think that it would go over very well as a first date pick.

“There’s not much I won’t eat,” she replied, “I don’t care for nuts, but I’m not allergic to them. You have a few days to decide, I don’t mind finding out the day of. You can surprise me.”

This whole evening had been rather a surprise already, she thought. She had certainly been surprised to find Chrysanthe, and was even more surprised that the woman was here, now, in her flat, on her sofa. They had kissed, and she very much hoped they would kiss again at some point. If not tonight, then perhaps in a few days. She could hardly wait. Her heart fluttered at the thought. She was giddy with anticipation, with the wine, and with Chrysanthe’s presence in general. They were still holding hands after all this time. She felt as though she would rather miss the feeling of the other woman’s hand in hers when they finally parted for the evening. The warm bastliness of their intermingled fields, adding to the coziness of the comfortable chaise and the warm fire. She was almost tempted to ask Chrysanthe to stay the night — not to do anything, necessarily, just to enjoy each other’s company — but that would hardly be conducive to their resolution to take things at least a little slowly.

[Chrysanthe Palmifer]

Evening, 37 Bethas, 2720
Georgie’s Flat, Uptown

Chrysanthe smiled when Georgie said that she could surprise her. It didn’t do much for the pressure, but she didn’t exactly mind. If she was nervous about it – well, all right, she was – it was in a good sort of way; she was pleasantly nervous and she rather felt it would be a bad sort of sign if she weren’t so, for a first date.

“All right,” Chrysanthe grinned at Georgie. “Why don’t I meet you here, then? Let’s say 23 o’clock on the nine?”

Somehow the proposing of an actual time felt as dreadfully forward as the proposing of a date had been. The nine was scarcely two nights from now; some part of her felt quite adamant that she ought to wait at least a week to see Georgie again. The setting of a time, Chrysanthe felt, made the date seem more real; it wasn’t the time itself, but the fact of the date, and it cut through some of the slightly fuzzy haze of the alcohol she’d drank, and the pleasant warmth of Georgie’s hand in hers, still.

That, surely, Chrysanthe thought a little wryly, was more forward than any date. She could only half believe she’d kissed the other woman just a few minutes ago; she could, entirely, believe that she wanted to do so again. At least, she thought, remembering the way Georgie had lifted Chrysanthe’s hand and pressed her lips to it, she wasn’t alone with such feelings.

A house ago, Chrysanthe thought, Georgie had been the sister of her best school friend – someone she remembered fondly, someone she’d liked well enough, but truly little more. Now she felt oddly uncertain, unsure where precisely she stood with the other woman, unsure what they were to each other and unsure, largely, what they might be. It was, she hoped, the good kind of nervousness; it was the sort she had never known before she knew herself, and the sort she thought she had missed, unknowing, for rather a long time.

It wasn’t so much longer that they untangled their hands.

“I should get home before it’s too late,” Chrysanthe had said, apologetically; she’d looked one last time at Georgie’s sketchbook, and then back at the redhead, smiling a little softly. It had been crisp outside, colder than earlier, although Chrysanthe couldn’t really have said she minded. Georgie had waited with her in the blue light of the phosphor street lamp, both of them standing there in the circle of it together, the clouds of their breath mingling in the air, until the public coach that would take Chrysanthe towards her own boarding house pulled close.

Chrysanthe stepped half in, glancing back down at Georgie. She smiled – she grinned, really, a sudden bright look that felt as if it swept through her, and her best efforts to tame it failed. “Good night, Georgie,” Chrysanthe said, smiling, a little breathless. “I’ll see you soon.”

She sat down next to the window, hands in her lap, and glanced back out at the street below; she lifted one gloved hand in a light wave, and looked forward again as the coach pulled away.