juststopped | for Krem

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krem

for Krem

It isn't the first time she's ended up somewhere she didn't necessarily intend. In private, she's done her fair share of crying over Flemming - she misses her daughter like a part of her, even after so many years - but in public, she's decided to put a brave face on it. After he'd delivered her to her apartment, Krem had told her that he'd be happy to take her for dinner, once she felt more settled. Adaline's done a little bit to make the apartment her own. She's gone back to the place that Sam bought her and put together a capsule wardrobe that's a sad shadow of her guest room back in San Francisco. She is, in short, trying. And that has to count for something.

It's the middle of the afternoon when she texts Krem.

Dinner would be nice - Adaline.

They arrange to meet at a place that Adaline's walked past a few times. It's not a particularly showy place, but she does make an effort, putting on a dress with a full skirt that reminds her of something she might have bought new in the fifties. She does her hair and make-up. She considers heels for a long time and then decides to wear them anyway. Krem strikes her as someone who doesn't lack for confidence, quiet though it seems to be.

She's a little late when she steps into the restaurant, shrugging out of her coat to let the hostess check it for her.

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"Well, I don't know if it was all chocolate," Krem admitted. He shrugged a little and laughed, soft, polishing off the last of his port. He checked the bottle, but it was empty already; not surprising, they'd each had two fairly full glasses of it each.

"But there was all sorts of shenanigans going on around the city. A friend of mine proposed to his girlfriend. Another had some sort of run about with his girl that they didn't speak to each other for a few days after. I made some silly mistakes of my own. It only lasted the day though."

Adaline makes a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat and drains the last of her drink.

"Time for the bill?" she asks. She finds a reluctance in herself to leave the table but she knows that dinner can only be drawn out so far.

"I suppose it is that point of the evening, isn't it?" He couldn't help but keep smiling though, and not just because of the pleasant buzz of a bottles worth of wine sitting pleasantly in him. It had all been good company and laughter and a surprising bit of contentment. It had been easy. And he liked that.

The waiter made it easy to split the check between them, making no fuss about dividing it as they explained they'd like it--Adaline with the appetizers, Krem's entree and the dessert, and Krem with the wines and Adaline's entree. It came out about evenly.

"I'd like to walk you home, if that's alright?"

Counting out dollars, Adaline sweeps her blonde hair over one shoulder.

"Honestly?" She says, glancing at him through her eyelashes. "If have been disappointed if you hadn't offered."

"I didn't want to seem presumptuous," Krem said, handing over his bank card when the waiter came back for the bill. He rather liked the ease with which the bit of plastic worked.

When everything was taken care of and they collected their coats at the door, he offered her his elbow, smiling brightly at her.

Adaline slips her arm through his, wondering at how easy that is.

"You don't have to," she says. "If you have better things to do. You've made the gesture - I'm suitably impressed."

"No, I want to," Krem assured with a nod. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. I don't say things I don't mean, and don't offer things I don't want to. I just didn't think I should presume you'd want me walking you home, is all."

He smiled, easy and simple.

"Oh please," says Adaline, rolling her eyes, squeezing his arm a little and, yes, the feel of the muscles through his sleeves is distracting. "If it means this lasts a little bit longer? I'm happy to be walked home."

Krem smiled, and he felt that subtle squeeze on his arm, and maybe, just a little, he flexed his arm a bit under her hand. Just a touch, more a natural instinct than anything else really.

He was more than happy to share her time and space, the companionability of her presence as they walked together. The chill of the evening didn't seem quite so bad with someone else beside him, after all.

They walk in silence for a moment, the click of Adaline's heels loud on the sidewalk. She risks a glance at him, his profile. Maybe the fact that he's nothing like Ellis at all makes it easier. Maybe that's a lot of the charm. It's cold and Adaline huddles down into the collar of her coat a little.

Krem was aware, a few times, that Adaline was looking at him, but only because he was looking at her as well as they walked, and because he was trained in years of being aware of when he was being watched. He was never a spy, but he was a soldier, and he knew when someone had their eye on him. But he didn't call her on it.

When they reached her apartment, he paused outside her door, reluctant suddenly for the end of their evening.

"Well," says Adaline, leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped around herself as she looks at him, head tilted slightly. "I suppose this is where I ought to say goodnight."

"I suppose it is," Krem agreed softly, with just a touch of that reluctance in his voice. He lingered his fingers gently on Adaline's elbow for a moment, admiring her yet again as they stood there outside of her apartment door.

"Would it be terribly inappropriate of me to kiss you goodnight, Adaline?"

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't," she says. "And you're really not making it easier to not invite you in."

Krem smiled a little, fingers still gently on her elbow, but tracking up her arm just a little. "It would be irresponsible of me to make sure you didn't safely settle, I think. You did drink four glasses of wine. I'd at least won't to make sure you made it to the couch before I gave you that kiss. Plus, if we were both sitting, then you'd actually be a height I could reach."

Adaline finds herself amused by how suddenly forward he is. Yes, they've been flirting all night, they both know it, but this is something else entirely.

"The heels do come off, you know," she says, pulling away from him to start opening her front door.

"I should hope they do," Krem said, tucking his hands into his pockets and acting the perfect gentleman as she opened the door for them. He let her lead them in slipping off his jacket once again and holding it delicately in front of himself for now.

"That doesn't change that I know I'm shorter than most other men. It's something I've gotten used to over the years. I've gotten used to a lot of things that make me different from most other men."

"Tea, coffee or something stronger?" she asks, immediately slipping out of her heels and her coat and holding out her hands for his coat. She smiles, eyebrows raised expectantly. She knows a lot about not being the same as everyone else.

"You make it sound as though you've got a tail."

"Are we planning to be up all night? I'll have whatever you feel up to making for a nightcap," Krem said with a smile. "It just can't have dairy in it, if you want me to keep being good company."

He passed over his coat to her and slid out of his shoes as well, loosening the buttons on his waist coat and relaxing, just a touch. He supposed, well things were pleasant and loose and before they were terribly complicated, then was the best time to approach things.

"No, nothing quite so exotic," he assured. "I'm just a bit...queer. In quite a lot of ways."

"I suppose we'll have to see how things go," says Adaline, padding towards the kitchen in her stockinged feet. "There's beer or I think I have scotch, but only a little."

She lived in San Francisco for long enough that the word "queer" doesn't ruffle her but it does paint a very particular picture. She wonders whether it means the same thing when he says it.

"I'm very difficult to shock," she says.

"Beer sounds just fine," he said with a bit of a nod. He trailed after her quietly, his own socks quiet on the floors, his eyes trained on her ankles and calves of all things. He admired the shape of them. He wondered if she danced.

"The truth is," Krem began, and then faltered a little. Somehow, in the months he'd been in Darrow, it became harder and harder to say the words again. Wine had loosened his tongue, but the nerves still existed.

"One of the truths is," he started over, softer, "I was born a woman."

"Oh." She breathes out the sound, frozen for a moment in the process of bending over to fetch beers out of the fridge. For a moment, she stays where she is, and then it occurs to her the aspect she just be presenting and she straightens.

"Well," she says, holding out a beer to him. "I'm not sure what the appropriate response is. "Other than to offer you a beer and assure you that I'm still..." Her cheeks flush. "Still expecting that good night kiss?"

Krem, who had still been looking at Adaline's ankles, looked up when she straightened and turned back around so that their eyes met when she handed over the beer. He took it, their hands brushing momentarily. It was not nearly so intimate a touch as their one on the table had been. Still, it had him blushing just a little.

"No, that's--you deserved to know, so you didn't stop having any. Expectations."

He was quiet a moment, and then he laughed, a quiet sort of giggle, before it became a more thorough laugh. Nothing in particular was very funny, except for the way they were both suddenly dancing around this so delicately, acting as if something had so fundamentally changed, as if they hadn't just spent however long sneaking each other glances and innuendos, drinking wine and licking spoons and making vaguely crude remarks, such that he thought it was appropriate--and she thought it was appropriate--to have a nightcap together.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, let's--alright. I'm alright. Okay."

Adaline takes a swallow of her beer, leaning her butt back against the counter and studies him for a moment. Even that brief touch against her fingers leaves her craving more.

For a moment, she considers swapping her truth for his but that's too much so she just swallows her beer and then holds out her hand to him.

"Come on," she says. "Come and sit with me."

Krem nodded, picking up his bottle again and taking a sip of it to match hers. He let Adaline lead him to her couch and sat with her, near enough so that they were close but without crowding her space unnecessarily. He could smell her fragrance from this distance, or perhaps her soap; either way, it was clean and fresh and pleasant. His fingers itched to gently push her hair back behind her ear, but he contained himself, holding his beer bottle with both hands.

He smiled at her softly. "I won't be offended, you know. If you change your mind after tonight, about seeing me again. I might even still make you lemon cake."

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