Noah decided that every princess needed her chariot. And Mariella was nothing if not his princess. Or a princess— she was a princess in her own right. It just so happened that he was lucky enough that for now, she was his princess. (And he wanted to keep it that way.) they’d only been going out for… what was it? Five months now? Over the last summer break, and throughout the last spring semester. He was now in his last year, and he’d already stayed throughout summer break to be with her. It had gotten to the extent that he’d flown her to Paris when his friends left and he’d felt lonely without them. They showed up in three separate tabloids, one in America, two in Europe. He’d met her entire family. The little kids were kind of annoying, but better to be around than any other child he knew of. He was sure this was solely due to her influence. She was an angel. (His angel.) She made children bearable— Maria worked miracles; she’d certainly worked one on him. Ryder always teased him now, without fail. Ryder was even beginning to call him out on ‘dropped calls’ and ‘bad reception areas’ actually meaning I’m with Mariella and want to be alone with her. He was in love. He was in love, in the worst type of way, and his guts clenched up painfully at the thought, releasing when he remembered that it was okay. Mariella made it okay. She was his angel, his princess, his miracle worker, and she’d made a thousand things change for him in what little time they’d known each other.
The best nights were always the ones Maria allowed him to stay over, or allowed herself to stay at his place— he liked that even better, no roommates or family to worry about impressing, just Maria. Just Mariella. And he never had to impress her- even when he tried, it seemed to only have the opposite affect, anyhow. She didn’t care about fancy things, practically disliked them and the steep price tag that he didn’t even care about. She’d rather have a picnic than go to a five star restaurant. It was nonsense, it was fascinating, it was so beautiful in the best way, and it baffled him, baffled and entranced.
But he wanted to… he wanted her to know, above all other things, that she was special, the most special and important thing to him, and he did it in the only way he knew how- with a grand gesture, renting a horse drawn carriage with a driver in a top hat (he paid for that, but the driver had already been wearing the blazer), and himself, of course, in one of his more casual suits. They looked best with Mariella, in her hand-sewn dresses and flats. He stood in front of the carriage, hands in his pockets and stomach churning and a nervous grin on his face. She’d love it. But he couldn’t be sure of that. What if she didn’t? What if it was a bit too ridiculous? What if she was allergic to horses? She’d laugh quietly and kiss him on the nose and tell him it was too much, or that he was absolutely silly, or else blush and frown all small like she did when she was upset about something that couldn’t change. It would be alright. (Probably.)
The driver was supposed to take them the quickest route to central park. It should have been cold, so they could share a blanket, but it was still summer, but at least it was night time, so they could probably put up with was a light afghan (which he’d had in the buggy, folded carefully on the seat as it had been a gift from Maria). He’d wanted milkshakes, but Noah was worried they’d melt, and supposed the buggy could drop them off at a diner if there was one open, and then they could walk back to her place after- he’d wanted this, whatever it was, whatever it meant, to be a night to remember. So that she wouldn’t forget him.
I stopped giving a fuck what people think about me a long time ago. I’m not completely happy with myself, but I’m comfortable where I am. I can’t help that I’m naturally thin and I don’t have that much time to eat because I’m constantly at work, first of all. Second, I’m a natural blonde, but I’ll admit that I’ve had highlights before. I have never had any kind of eating disorder. I like food too much, and I hate the taste of it coming back up. In high school I was a straight A student who was on the paper and in theatre. And you know what, prissy boy? I don’t buy my clothes at ModCloth, I buy most of them at Kohl’s, Target, JC Penny, or Dillard’s. So why don’t you go suck a dick and leave me alone.
Your eyebrows tell a different story. But right. Totally not coloured omg this is totally natural what are you saying?
I’m soooo sorry, I didn’t even realize that extra curriculars had nothing to do with socializing! You totally never had any time to give in to peer pressure your schedule was sooooo jam-packed. I’d have rather you bought clothes at ModCloth, Dillards and Kohls are for fat old women with too much money on their hands.
Do I need to come over? Call me when you can.
No, you shouldn’t, you’ve only just got here. Don’t give up on a good thing so fast. Stay, another week at least, give him some notice. What if he wanted to stay with you - or in touch, since you’ve been giving him the Trevena Specialty in relationships? Would you want him to?
What? You’re leaving?
I can follow that thought. It seems like a good change for you to take. Does he know you’re… your version of dating? Or are you making like Aeryn and hoping he infers it himself?
Really? You’ve been romantic? I never would have guessed, and I won’t believe it, not at all, not even one bit.