Sometimes she'd watch for a bit, lips curling into an smile without her even knowing as he laughs at someone's joke or does something nice for his date.
Other times she'd look away as fast as she could, afraid that he'd look towards her and they'd make eye contact and she'd have to ... have to ...
It's been a month after all, since their talk in the cafe and since Derek told her that he was a werewolf. Even if there hadn't been a communication blackout, they hadn't seen more than glimpses of each other since and well, it's obvious to Felicity why she's so nervous to talk to him again. By not talking to him, she'd sent a message that she hadn't meant to send, and well, tonight is the night she's going to make clear that she isn't trying to avoid him on purpose.
Or so she tells herself. Felicity knows she isn't always the best at making things clear. But what better way to tell a man that, then by asking him to dance?
Right?
With her arms resting in front of her and her fingers interlocked together, Felicity makes her way towards him — one step at a time — before she begins reaching out to tap him on the shoulder. She pauses though, when she's just an inch away from making contact, and instead closes her fingers into her hand and bites her lip. Maybe something less touchy would be better. She doesn't want to be startling.
"Hey," she says instead, in as friendly a way as possible, trying to get his attention with her voice this time — just as the last few sassy lines of Womanizer fill the ballroom and the band begins to change. Her hair is down, her eyes are hopeful, and there's a genuine sense of I've-missed-you in her smile.
dance floor
Sometimes she'd watch for a bit, lips curling into an smile without her even knowing as he laughs at someone's joke or does something nice for his date.
Other times she'd look away as fast as she could, afraid that he'd look towards her and they'd make eye contact and she'd have to ... have to ...
It's been a month after all, since their talk in the cafe and since Derek told her that he was a werewolf. Even if there hadn't been a communication blackout, they hadn't seen more than glimpses of each other since and well, it's obvious to Felicity why she's so nervous to talk to him again. By not talking to him, she'd sent a message that she hadn't meant to send, and well, tonight is the night she's going to make clear that she isn't trying to avoid him on purpose.
Or so she tells herself. Felicity knows she isn't always the best at making things clear. But what better way to tell a man that, then by asking him to dance?
Right?
With her arms resting in front of her and her fingers interlocked together, Felicity makes her way towards him — one step at a time — before she begins reaching out to tap him on the shoulder. She pauses though, when she's just an inch away from making contact, and instead closes her fingers into her hand and bites her lip. Maybe something less touchy would be better. She doesn't want to be startling.
"Hey," she says instead, in as friendly a way as possible, trying to get his attention with her voice this time — just as the last few sassy lines of Womanizer fill the ballroom and the band begins to change. Her hair is down, her eyes are hopeful, and there's a genuine sense of I've-missed-you in her smile.