scorpius.

      LIPS  CURL  NORTH      as  the  other  male  speaks.    a  smile  painted  in  a  variety  of  colours  ——      (  a  few  strokes  of  relief  that  he  hadn’t  yet  been  thought  strange  here.  a  dabbing  of  hope  that  his  presence  truly  was  appreciated  there.  )        “ scorpius  —— ”    he  says,  much  too  quickly.    “ it’s  ‘ unusual ’,  i  know.  my  father’s  idea. ”      a  wince ,   now  was  certainly  not  the  time  to  be  talking  about  his  father.        “ w e l l ,   i  um  —   you  …    do  you  live  here  in  the  city?  the  uh ,    BIG  APPLE. ”    ‘ jazz  hands ’  wave  in  the  air  to  accompany  the  city’s  nickname  and  he  sincerity  wished  they  hadn’t.  sometimes  his  limbs  reacted  in  the  strangest  of  ways.

      If this wasn’t the most adorably sweet introduction he’s had in a very long time?  Such a thing never existed.  Grinning as he watched Scorpius start to race himself in a game of ‘how awkward can I get in as little time possible’–Blaine almost felt guilty for laughing in the wake of jazz hands.  Who couldn’t?  You’d have to be HEARTLESS not to at least chuckle. He tried to combat how that might come off rude by looking towards the tops of his polished black shoes but that probably didn’t do much good.  When their eyes met–Blaine’s were absolutely sparkling and nothing short of a spontaneous disaster of epic proportions would be able to wipe the smile off his face.  “Yes.  I live here.  I take it you’re visiting,” his brows shoved together in a nearly comical way, “Haven’t encountered a local using finger flare to describe New York City yet and–I think that’s the best thing I’ve seen.  Ever.  Pleasure to meet you, Scorpius.  I–.  Would you like to join me for a drink?  I mean–.  The bar here is pretty great and–wait you probably already know that.”  Looks like he was about to enter that race as well.  “Would you like another?”