Keep Making Me Laugh | Effy, Valentine’s Day
Lazy day, it was, but it was also Valentine’s day. And Effy had a valentine this year, as she did every year, but this one was different. Feelings were involved, not just mindless hook ups and a boy offering her a pint as flowers. A phone call from her’s only reminded her more that today would be somewhat special. Somewhat was Effy’s way of playing it cool, though in reality she was ecstatic. She had her hair in a loose pony tail, soft waves hung to her exposed back, her make up was soft, natural, yet very rave-esque. Her ensemble consisted of an off the shoulder maroon blouse, the one sleeve hung down loosely by her elbow. A denim mini skirt and chunky, shin-length, black combat boots seemed to finish it off. She felt beautiful, but her nerves would surely kill her. So, just as Effy would, she descended on her journey to Braiden’s flat as per usual. Never mind the car her mother offered or how the wind whipped at her bare legs. She was fine, and the anxiety, which she would hide fairly well, made her feel numb. Knocking on Braiden’s door, for she felt it was appropriate in this situation, she waited patiently for his answer. Her arms shielding her from the weather.
All festivities ready and prepared at their rightful place, Braiden stood up from his comfortable position on the couch with moderately composed haste to answer the door; though, before that, he’d rushed to the mirror for one last overlook of himself, out of pre-Valentine’s jitters. What had made him so anxious was unbeknownst to him, for he’d never been this apprehensive about a date (and he used the term loosely) with a girl, let alone one on Valentine’s Day; however, there was something about the one this year being Effy. Effy, who had singlehandedly made his smile a little gentler, and his laugh a little louder, though his smokes quite stronger, was his Valentine; and there was no questioning why he’d been so nervous about it. Fixing his collar and adjusting his tie a little haphazardly, Braiden now walked towards the door in a state of tranquility: chest heaving a deep breath, hair unkempt, and no fucks given.
With a small smile, he’d greeted Effy, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” and presented to her a bouquet of three roses that he kept in fancy wrapper behind his back. It was surely nothing far too extravagant, for there were three; but Braiden figured that the thought would count the most. Besides, three roses were better than no roses at all, and in no way would Braiden have waited til tomorrow for bountiful bouquets to be in stock. “Come in, yeah?” he inquired rhetorically, allowing Effy space to walk in to his dim labyrinth of a flat.
(Source: braidenwoodrow)
Keep Making Me Laugh | Effy, Valentine’s Day
Valentine’s Day was never quite Braiden’s forte. He was naturally and absentmindedly romantic at a sporadic yet consistent rate, though it came without warning; it came like a hurricane and drizzled down like flurries, an idea hitting him then giving it its well-deserved delivery lightly. However, there was never really anyone to be romantic for: his parents had their own annual vacation planned, to extravagant places like Hawaii or Fiji, and he’d been far too much of a man who kept to himself to have a lady around. Now that the new year had dawned and the dreaded holiday had come along, Braiden couldn’t help but prepare a minor celebration for he and Effy, in spite of the fact that they had not been officially called a couple yet. He’d inquired for her to be his Valentine, and she said yes; it was only common courtesy to offer her something.
What he had planned was not very special; to him, at least. He had invited Effy over to the traditional candlelight dinner with whatever sort of rubbish he cooked up; then a slice of some tiramisu cake he’d bought from the market a few hours earlier. Nothing too special. Light jazz music (preferably, songs by Air) would play in the background like some romcom horror they’d picked out from the rentals. It’d be another day at Braiden’s place for the both of them, except much more significant and memory-worthy, no matter how much they wouldn’t want to admit. After their revelry, regardless of how long it’d take for them to quit playing footsie with each other, he had other things on the agenda: things that were, well, best kept a secret.
Calling up the infamous Effy Stonem at the stark time of 5 o’clock in the afternoon, Braiden took it upon himself to get himself prepared after adding the last touch to the table he’d so accordingly set up; he dashed a decent amount of red rose petals among the white sheet he placed over the glass, accentuating the Jack Daniels he had poured into wine glasses. Afterward, he walked towards his closet and picked out an everyday white button up, and for a little Braidenesque spike, tied a black tie on the collar; he never wore ties for women. He tugged today’s jeans on his waist and fixed his hair, things that he never thought he’d be so adamant on getting adjusted so terribly correctly; and sat on the couch, awaiting his Valentine’s arrival.
ooc: I’ll have it done by tomorrow, I’ve been pretty busy this evening.
ooc: I’ll try starting something up now.
We might take a bit of a trip though.We might?
To your flat after we hit the bar.
I’m ready when you are, E.
