Sanders Sides Imagines

First Date/Last Night (Deceit)

I've been feeling musical one-shots lately so here we go. From Dogfight. I think I'm gonna do a prequel to this of the heartbreak part because that's a whole song and it's a bit angsty bitch but for now, here's some awkward fluffish stuff

~~~~~

You and Deceit were both confused as to why this was happening. You were on a date after months of hating each other.

It all started when you met him at a coffee shop. He had come up to you and asked you on a date, which was shocking.

You didn't consider yourself ugly, but you weren't the prettiest person in the shop, and you didn't think you were in league with the man who had just asked you out.

The night of the date, you spent forever freaking out over what you would wear and how the date would go. Then, when you got there, you realized it was a double date with his friend, Remus, and a super strange-looking girl. You two went to the restroom to powder your noses together, and she told you what was going on.

"You know it's all a contest, right?" She had asked.

"What?"

"It's a contest. Remus told me about it straight up. They were seeing who could bring the ugliest, weirdest girl to the dance. Whoever wins gets some prize. This is more offensive to me than you, but I think Remus is gonna win."

You had been heartbroken and angry. You blamed yourself for letting someone into your life in the first place. You should have just stuck to your lonely routine.

Deceit felt like shit, as he should have. He didn't know why he cared so much about making you cry, but he did. It wasn't as if you were the first person he'd done something like that to. But there was something different about you. He had wanted to be on that date with you, without the stupid bet or Remus involved at all.

It didn't matter, though. The damage had been done, and he didn't know how he could make it up to you. He'd had to leave town for his job a week after that, so he let his mind drift onto other things as yours stayed down in the dumps. You were determined to make it seem like he didn't affect you, so you went back to your usual routine of working, going to college classes, and staying home every night. The routine offered you some familiar comfort, but there was always a nagging feeling in the back of your mind, just as there was one in the back of his.

And now, a month after the disastrous date, he had come back from his work trip with a new plan. He asked you to start over and go on a date, and you had hastily agreed.

Now, here you were, unsure of what either of you was doing. he felt like an idiot, but he was confused as to why you were still there, and why you had agreed to the date.

It was an awkward start. You just wanted him to say something so you could start a normal conversation, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen.

He cleared his throat as he looked around, trying to figure out what to say when you jumped the gun at the opportunity.

"What?" You asked, pretending like he'd said something instead of just coughing.

"Huh?" He replied, raising an eyebrow.

Don't expect too much, just walk.

She looks so... cold. He thought. Outwardly, yes, it was a chilly night, but there was something awkward and stiff about you. It was obvious you were trying really hard to make this into a positive experience without knowing how to.

"I'm sorry," he spoke up finally as you walked.

"What?" You looked up at him for the first time that night, into his eyes as he stopped walking, facing you fully.

"I know I've said it a million times already, but I'm sorry about the date."

"It's okay. I understand I'm not the best looking girl in the world-"

"-But here's the thing. I think you are!" He replied. "I think you're insanely intelligent and quick-witted and, and interesting. I don't think you need to be a movie star to be the most amazing girl I've ever laid eyes on."

You looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Then, why invite me on a date as a bet-"

"I'm an idiot is why. I expected to find some girl that was just strange and knew it so I could either win the bet or have a fair chance. But I met you, and I couldn't resist asking you out. I regret that I asked you out to a contest, but I knew I would easily lose because you are a far cry from ugly or weird or freaky or any of the awful things we set as standards for that bet." He was ranting on and on about how awful he was and how lovely he found you, which was very endearing but also embarrassing.

"Okay, I get it!" You laughed, interrupting the constant stream of words he was spouting. "I get it, I'm wonderful and you're stupid. Do we wanna sit down and eat something while we expand those thoughts?"

"Yes, please."