A Freaking Lady
Jul. 12th, 2013 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feredarStory: A Freaking Lady
Year: 944 FY
Characters: Nida, Sorell
Warnings: References to background slut-shaming/sexism and teen pregnancy
Notes: This takes place in the Urban Fantasy AU
"So, I was thinking," Sorell said, coming up behind Nida in the kitchen and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
She smiled a little, but didn't turn away from the stove. "Yeah?"
"For your prom next month, we should go to Luigi's. You know, the little Italian place, the first place I took you out for dinner?" He'd graduated, of course, but Nida was a senior this year, and things had been awkward at his last year--they'd just gotten married, and everyone knew she was pregnant and it had just been...awkward.
And now Nida had stopped smiling. "For prom next month," she said.
He blinked. "Yeah. I mean...we'll go to dinner first, obviously..."
"You really..." Nida cleared her throat and started stirring the spaghetti sauce again, almost viciously. "You take a lot for granted, you know that, right?"
And now she was being confusing. "I...do you want me to make dinner instead, or...?"
"It's not about the dinner," Nida snapped. "It's just...you never asked."
"Asked what?"
Now she turned away from the stove. "Prom."
"I'm confused," Sorell finally said, figuring being direct was better.
"You never asked," Nida repeated, even angrier now. "You didn't even ask, Sorell, and you're talking about restaurants and--" She cut herself off, and took a deep breath. "You need to ask."
Oh. Oh. "I'm sorry," he said. "Um. Do you want to go to prom with me?"
"Not like that!" Nida said. "I just...you remember how you asked me last year?"
"Yeah?" Of course he did. He'd gotten someone to break into her locker for him and he'd put in a bouquet of red roses with the question on the ribbon tying it together. She'd had one in her hair when she told him the answer was yes.
"Do that, only better."
"Okay..."
Nida sighed, and turned back to the sauce, and Sorell started to leave, but she cut him off. "It's just...look, I don't regret anything. I love you, and Deva is my world, you know that. I just...you take a lot for granted. And last year sucked, and...I want heat. I want romance. Dammit, I want to feel like a freaking lady. So make that happen, okay?"
"Okay," Sorell said, and retreated to figure out how he was going to top last year without going overboard.
In the end, it wasn't that hard, which made him feel all the stupider for not thinking about this sooner. Romance mattered, especially since they'd married so young--hell, even if most of their friends weren't trading relationships in every couple of months like normal high school kids, having a kid made keeping things right between them that much harder.
But it was still early enough in the season that no one went to the beach much, especially during school hours. Most of Sorell's classes were in the evenings (so one of them could be with Deva as much as possible--they had money for a nanny, between what she'd inherited from her grandmother and the fact that, by marrying, he'd gotten access to his trust fund at eighteen instead of twenty-five, but they'd decided against that), so he left Nida a message to meet him there when she got home, and spent most of the day collecting shells to spell out the question on the sand.
Half of it had gotten washed away, because he forgot to check when the tide was coming in and hadn't had time to fix it before she got there, but it was the effort that counted. And it was the beach, just this side of warm, and she'd said yes.
"But I don't want to go to Luigi's," she finally said, after she'd finished kissing him.
"No?" He'd thought she liked the place.
"I seem to remember you offered to cook?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
He laughed, and kissed her cheek. "I did. And I will."
"Awesome," she said, and leaned her head on his shoulder.
Sorell rested his head against hers and twined their hands together. Maybe he was clueless sometimes, and he probably had been taking his wife for granted more than he really should, but no one could possibly accuse him of not loving her, and hopefully never again of being unromantic.
Because Nida was a freaking lady, and he never planned on forgetting that again.
Year: 944 FY
Characters: Nida, Sorell
Warnings: References to background slut-shaming/sexism and teen pregnancy
Notes: This takes place in the Urban Fantasy AU
"So, I was thinking," Sorell said, coming up behind Nida in the kitchen and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
She smiled a little, but didn't turn away from the stove. "Yeah?"
"For your prom next month, we should go to Luigi's. You know, the little Italian place, the first place I took you out for dinner?" He'd graduated, of course, but Nida was a senior this year, and things had been awkward at his last year--they'd just gotten married, and everyone knew she was pregnant and it had just been...awkward.
And now Nida had stopped smiling. "For prom next month," she said.
He blinked. "Yeah. I mean...we'll go to dinner first, obviously..."
"You really..." Nida cleared her throat and started stirring the spaghetti sauce again, almost viciously. "You take a lot for granted, you know that, right?"
And now she was being confusing. "I...do you want me to make dinner instead, or...?"
"It's not about the dinner," Nida snapped. "It's just...you never asked."
"Asked what?"
Now she turned away from the stove. "Prom."
"I'm confused," Sorell finally said, figuring being direct was better.
"You never asked," Nida repeated, even angrier now. "You didn't even ask, Sorell, and you're talking about restaurants and--" She cut herself off, and took a deep breath. "You need to ask."
Oh. Oh. "I'm sorry," he said. "Um. Do you want to go to prom with me?"
"Not like that!" Nida said. "I just...you remember how you asked me last year?"
"Yeah?" Of course he did. He'd gotten someone to break into her locker for him and he'd put in a bouquet of red roses with the question on the ribbon tying it together. She'd had one in her hair when she told him the answer was yes.
"Do that, only better."
"Okay..."
Nida sighed, and turned back to the sauce, and Sorell started to leave, but she cut him off. "It's just...look, I don't regret anything. I love you, and Deva is my world, you know that. I just...you take a lot for granted. And last year sucked, and...I want heat. I want romance. Dammit, I want to feel like a freaking lady. So make that happen, okay?"
"Okay," Sorell said, and retreated to figure out how he was going to top last year without going overboard.
In the end, it wasn't that hard, which made him feel all the stupider for not thinking about this sooner. Romance mattered, especially since they'd married so young--hell, even if most of their friends weren't trading relationships in every couple of months like normal high school kids, having a kid made keeping things right between them that much harder.
But it was still early enough in the season that no one went to the beach much, especially during school hours. Most of Sorell's classes were in the evenings (so one of them could be with Deva as much as possible--they had money for a nanny, between what she'd inherited from her grandmother and the fact that, by marrying, he'd gotten access to his trust fund at eighteen instead of twenty-five, but they'd decided against that), so he left Nida a message to meet him there when she got home, and spent most of the day collecting shells to spell out the question on the sand.
Half of it had gotten washed away, because he forgot to check when the tide was coming in and hadn't had time to fix it before she got there, but it was the effort that counted. And it was the beach, just this side of warm, and she'd said yes.
"But I don't want to go to Luigi's," she finally said, after she'd finished kissing him.
"No?" He'd thought she liked the place.
"I seem to remember you offered to cook?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
He laughed, and kissed her cheek. "I did. And I will."
"Awesome," she said, and leaned her head on his shoulder.
Sorell rested his head against hers and twined their hands together. Maybe he was clueless sometimes, and he probably had been taking his wife for granted more than he really should, but no one could possibly accuse him of not loving her, and hopefully never again of being unromantic.
Because Nida was a freaking lady, and he never planned on forgetting that again.