The Fine Art of DatingWilliam Worthington William smiled sadly at the lovely woman before him as he patted her hand. "You're very sweet," he told her gently. "But," she sighed. "I'm afraid so," he nodded with obvious regret. "Go on then," she said, her ire already peeking, "list the faults." He blinked at her then tilted his head, looking like an owl. "You're lovely, beautiful and wonderful to be around." "And that's a problem for you?!" "Oh no, of course not. It's just that..." William brushed a hand over his scalp-feathers. "You're not a mutant." He watched as the anger in her eyes liquefied into pure indignation. "You bigoted little nobody," she snarled. "How dare you dismiss me because I'm not a freak. I lowered my damn standards to go out with one of you. I had to keep reminding myself who you are and who your father is or I'd've been sick numerous times..." He smirked and closed his eyes as he let the tirade wash over him. He'd known his physical appearance disgusted her, that's why he'd used that line to dump her. Otherwise he would have perhaps been a little kinder. Even so he was getting a name for himself as the most unapproachable individual in the mutant community. He'd gone through a woman a month for the last five years. The only reason he kept up the pretence was for he sake of his parents. They desperately wanted him to settle down and find a nice girl so he played at looking, knowing that each girl would have something wrong with them. He had a strict code for each 'date'. It was dinner, he always came to this restaurant and always had this table. He would pick them up at eight, wine and dine them then, if there was to be a second date, he'd drop them off exactly two hours later. If not, they found their own way home. The second date went along the same lines, perhaps lasting slightly longer. He never, under any circumstances, met them for anything other than dinner and he never, ever bought them coffee. It was the stinging slap that brought him out of his musings. His mirror eyes fixed on the woman standing above him with a red face. "You're not even listening to me! How rude is that?" she huffed. "I'm sorry, I lost concentration at around about the point you called me a freak," he said flatly. His face lost all _expression_ and he stared at her as if she was a mouse and he was the owl. "You can go away now. You've had your free meals on my father's expenses." He made a shooing motion with his hands, closed his eyes and pretended she no longer existed. Only once he was completely sure she was gone did he open his eyes and smile, taking a sip of his champagne. He grinned at the pretty little waitress as she sauntered over to clear the vacated place at the table. He liked her, always insisting he be placed in her area to be served. Her long dyed-black hair was pulled back into a braid while tiny studs sat three per ear. His sharp eye-sight told him she wore a tongue spacer in place of a bar and that she'd had a lip and nose ring once upon a time. After draining his glass, he waved it at her. "Another bottle, I think. This is definitely a celebration." Jenny raised bright green eyes to him and snorted. "You're a true piece of shit, Worthington." "Why thank you sweet lady," he laughed, "I'm glad you approve." "Sure," she rolled her eyes. "But you're still a prick. How many does this one make?" "Oooo, sixty seven, give or take," he said, still laughing merrily. "Dear god you actually keep a count," she groaned. Once the plates were all piled high, she shot him a disapproving look. "As I said, you're a piece of shit." Just as she turned, she caught sight of her boss within hearing distance and groaned internally but kept it off her face. She'd been warned about her 'inappropriate' manner with the youngest Worthington. She'd even tried keeping her comments to herself but the guy had needled her until she lost her temper and told him. For some sick reason, he seemed to enjoy her bluntness. The mole of a Maitre'D shuffled over, his face a deep crimson as he practically grovelled at William's feet. "I'm so sorry," he snuffled. William looked like he'd been touched by something slimy as he shuddered. "About what? The food was perfect, the service excellent, I don't see a problem here." "I would hardly call her attitude 'excellent'," the manager growled. "But not to worry, she has been warned and I will deal with her personally." "Woah," William cried as the man scuttled away. "Shit," he muttered, "She's the only damn thing about this place that makes it worthwhile eating here." Barely two minutes later, the girl rushed back out, bag and coat in her arms and un-shed tears in her eyes. As she passed, she shot him a deeply hurt look but didn't even stop before slamming the doors on the way out. The Maitre'D crabbed back over, rubbing his hands and almost prostrate with apologies. "I am so very sorry, Mr Worthington," he squirmed. "Whatever," William snarled, tossing his credit chip on the table. "Clear the Worthington tab, I won't be back." At the protestations of the man, William just shrugged and sauntered out. The moment he was outside, he swept open his wings and leapt into the sky. He had to find that girl, he just had to. It wasn't fair that she'd lost her job because of him and the she'd looked at him had made him actually feel sick. He finally spotted her marching down Fifth Avenue, not even having stopped to put on her coat. He swooped down and touched down softly right beside her. "Hey," he chimed, discovering that even his entrance didn't make her stop so he had to almost run to keep up with her. "Need a lift somewhere?" "Not from you," she snapped. "I didn't ask him to fire you, y'know," he protested. "No, just strongly suggested that he'd lose the Worthington tab if he didn't, right?" She shot him a look of deep loathing but kept up her fast pace. "They lost it," he called as he let the distance grow between them. "Yeah, right," she snorted but slowed a little. "Right," he said easily as he came to a stop. "Why give them business when they fired the only reason I ever went there in the first place?" That made her stop too and she actually turned to gape at him. "I've spent the last five years serving you and watching you make mincemeat out of every girl you bring in there. You're a dick, you know that?" He laughed brightly, his mirror eyes dancing with mirth and something he didn't understand. "I am the ultimate "asshole." "And now you're telling me... what?" she asked, folding her arms and staring flatly at him. "You like me? You wanna date me?" "I..." he blinked and his cheeks turned deep crimson. "I don't know. I guess I'd like to buy you a cup of coffee." |
