Here’s a scene I wrote from my first draft written in November as a part of my 50k for NaNoWriMo. My story, Falling Camelot, is still in the works, and I thought I would share this scene with all of you and hopefully grab some opinions. I may have posted this scene here already, but I’m not exactly sure. November is kind of a haze for me. This scene is also posted on my regular writer’s blog at http://www.writethisdownnow.wordpress.com.
“I didn’t know what you wanted to eat, so I just made my favorites,” Liam mentioned as I sat down at the set-up table. “So then what are we having?” I asked. “I’m not entirely picky about my food.”
“We’re having buttered shrimp with marinara sauce and some salad. It was easy for me to make since I’ve made it so many times before for myself,” Liam said.
“You can cook?” That was kind of hard for me to believe, although I actually based that off a stereotype considering how much money he really makes.
He nodded. “At least a few things. I’m not the world’s greatest chef, but I do have a few tricks up my sleeves. Surprised, are you?”
Now it was my turn to nod.
Liam walked back into the kitchen and returned with a huge bowl of salad.
“I didn’t know what dressing you wanted, so I made sure that I had every kind.”
“Really? That’s kind of expensive, isn’t it?” I wondered, scooping myself a small bit of salad. “But I guess, for future reference, I like Italian dressing or ranch. But like I said, I’m not entirely picky.”
“Really? I thought all girls were picky,” he teased, grabbing a bowl of salad for himself.
“Well, clearly you only know the prissy few, but I will let you know that I’m certainly nothing like most girls. What you know about other girls is completely moot when you’re dealing with me.”
“So you don’t like me, then?” he teased some more.
“Darn right,” I said with the straightest face I could manage. It was really hard to do.
“I mean, I thought I was doing fairly well, but if you don’t like me, then why are you sitting here eating dinner with me?” Liam wondered.
“You can never say no to free food. I figure my patience and tolerance is fair enough that I could at least stand you for one night. I can’t say the same if you ever ask me to dinner again, because that only works if there’s free food,” I answered.
He laughed, and then stood up to retrieve the buttered shrimp from the kitchen.
“What kind of wine is this?” I asked nonchalantly, tentatively taking a sip from the red liquid in my glass.
“It’s Bordeaux wine. I hope you like it. I’ve had it for a few years and no one’s ever really interested me enough to pull it out,” he explained as he returned with a tray of succulent shrimp and warm butter.
“1980-something. It’s not the sweetest, but it’s still fairly delicious and worth a date with a good woman,” he muttered, taking a sip out of his glass.
“So you think I’m a good woman?” I could feel the twinkles in my own eyes. Surely this wine will inhibit my means to stop him from venturing into more intimate positions later. I should watch how much of it I drink.
“Well, I figured it was either you or some prissy one, and personally the prissy one’s get clingy after a few sips–they can’t hold down alcohol very well and end up fooling themselves and creating more issues than solving them as if they were sober,” Liam mentioned, and I knew that at some point we were specifically talking about Cassidy.
“What was it like–dating a girl like Cassidy?” I wondered.
“I can’t really say since I’ve never actually dated a girl like Cassidy.”
“Okay, so what was it like, dating Cassidy?” I modified.
“Some days I wonder if I was punishing myself. She’s not a bad person, just she has this idea that everybody and everything belongs to her. I don’t know if her family installed that sort of mentality in her at an early age, but she’s very shrewd and clever, which I liked, even if she didn’t use those abilities at the best of moments.”