capeandcowllogs | I'm sorry momma, I never meant to hurt you

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I'm sorry momma, I never meant to hurt you

WHO: scatty and Edward
WHERE: idk somewhere subtly romantic
WHEN: tonight after sunset
WARNINGS: none?
SUMMARY: It's not a date.
FORMAT: whatever

[ He has a nice, casual outfit on. Dark button-down shirt, trousers, and muted shoes. His ride, on true other hand, was much flashier. A red Volvo in a sleek design, it had been sitting alone at a dealership waiting for an owner. Edward was merely borrowing it.

Traffic laws didn't apply to dead people, and as a vampire, he was exempt. Being a gentleman didn't mean being a saint. He pulled the car up in front of her residence. He gracefully exited the vehicle, striding to the door or whatever. And he knocked, the kind of knock that even Mozart himself would have been envious of in it's musicality. So ordinary it was decidedly extraordinary. ]

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Perhaps I should ride with you more often. [ He never wears a seat belt, for obvious reasons. And, despite his usual habit of driving fast, he slows considerably. It makes her thoughts calmer, which makes it easier for him. Calm thoughts were his favorite, but they were rare in the stressful environment of the 21st century. ]

[She flashes a grin.] You probably should.

[ Obeying the speed limit seems like a sin in a good car like this. Volvos, Edward thought, were meant to be driven like Mercedes and Lamborghinis. He slows to avoid hitting a drunken man in the alley, pulling out onto the main road and veering left onto a side road. Everything on this side of the city was closed, and despite the motorists on the road, there were hardly any pedestrians. ]

There it is. [ The car slows to a stop on the sidewalk directly in front of the modest-sized gallery. Edward isn't that sneaky about B&Es. He's standing outside of her door before a second passes, holding it open for her. ]

Shall we?

[The redhead finally seems to calm down enough to relax against the seat. The silence was what really got her; she could hear the car, of course, but none of the ruckus of the humani. It was... nice.

Grass-green eyes inspect the gallery with approval, and it's almost as if she expects him outside her door, because she's getting out immediately after it's opened.]

We shall.

There's a door on the rooftop. [ He jumps up after closing the door behind her, landing gracefully on his feet. The hinges aren't a problem and he easily uses two fingers to pry them off. The door is casually placed to the side in a fluid movement. ]

Ladies first. [ He gestures for her to enter. It isn't dangerous, nor are there any dangerous security traps. Perfectly fit for her to enter first. ]

[She follows just after him, and even with her lack of height she makes it in one jump as well. And even though he allows her first, and she figures that he's checked for traps, she's running her fingers against the walls of the stairwell, eyes flicking everywhere.]

You're too kind.

Manners never go out of style. [ He wonders if it's an instinct or habit she's formed, being wary of traps. He walks at her pace, staying at her side as they descend down the stairwell. The building was only two stories with another floor that was really just stairs leading up to the roof. Instead of a door, there was a decorative curtain of beads to lead them into the darkened gallery.

The windows were large and captured the moonlight and Light from nearby street lights. He pulled back the beads for her to enter. The artwork wasn't so much good as ... unique, and original. ]

[Oh gods, it's modern art. Well, she's already here. She glances around quickly, and then makes her way to the first piece.] Do you do this often?

When I've caused too much of a stir in the library and there aren't any old ladies who need help crossing the road. [ He grins. Her thoughts were how he viewed them as well, but art was art, after all. He could still enjoy being in the presence of it. ]

[The redhead can't help but smirk and roll her eyes at him. Old ladies. She stars wandering, hands folded behind her back.] Spend a lot of time reading, hm?

It's a favorite hobby of mine. [ He stands in front of a sculpture made of aged copper in the shape of ... a person, maybe? The title was no help, merely saying 'Compassion'. ]

Do you?