[Based around Season 1-2 Reid]
y/n has always been an analytical, yet emotional woman. Knowing her way around The Alavista Journal. A newspaper she has had the pleasure of writing for. Usually taking up the poetry and smaller columns, local news not...
Sorry this chapter is quite long! Enjoy nonetheless!
My song suggestion for this chapter is "wander" By Keegan DeWitt. :)
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"Sometimes for an artist, the only difference between insanity and genius is success." ---- --- -- -
His eyes
The first thing she noticed, was his eyes.
They were hazel. A particular type that Vivian was oh so fond of. They seemed to try and lighten up the room, as if the couples dancing and the loud music wasnt enough.
He looked so out of place. It wasnt due to his choice of wear for the night though. He had on a rich navy blue vest jacket, with a pair of black slacks and a black tie, along with a light blue dress shirt. It reminded Vivian of an old man- he should be. Looming about the floor with his cane, looking for another old lady friend to swoon. He most certainly could steal anyones heart, If he tried anyway.
Vivian chuckled to herself, being snapped away from his eyes from Lydia- one of her coworkers.
"Heyyy Vivian!" the girl nudged her, taking what looked like a gulp of her vodka tonic.
"Get on the dance floor girl! Look at all the people-" Lydia nudged her again. It was quite tempting- rather than sit near the snack table, munching on a pretzel or two. She could 'get out there.'
But to whom?
"Are you looking at his dimples?" Lydia questioned, finally snapping Vivian out of her final gaze with a small huff and puff.
"Who's- Who's dimples?" Vivian turned to the black haired girl. She was quite short, even with her heels on. But it fit her. The gorgeous V-neck dress, the dark eyeliner. The grey blazer. It was so Lydia and frankly Vivian was suprised hazel eyes hadn't waltzed over to her.
"His-" Lydia pointed her thin finger to the hazel eyes. Vivian smiled.
"We are here to have fun! Go talk to him!"
No- Well- Vivian wasn't here to have fun. Neither was Lydia. They were supposed to be discussing with some colleagues, dancing around. Maybe a drink or- a couple. (As Lydia put it). They needed to spread info about their local paper, get people to, ya know- Actually read it.
Vivian was a journalist at her local news station, and paper: The Alavista Journal. It hadn't gotten much traction, of course. It was a newspaper, technology and written word was advancing everyday, and nobody seemed to care about a brick of dead trees that arrived on your porch anymore.
Magazines were the new papers. People from everywhere just wanting to see who divorced who next. In all honesty: Vivian hated it. It was turning her lifes work into a hellscape. Her creative works and poetry columns didnt seem to suffice anymore.
The party was quite nice though. A get together- All the media outlets in Virginia. Who thought of that? It was quite clever. Everyone got in their formal fancy clothes, to tell people about things they were working on. Plus booze? I mean- sounds like a party. At least to someone in here.
Vivian felt eyes on her, a blush began to crawl up her neck. Like a rash. She hated it. Hated the feeling of knowing he was looking at her freckled arms, blonde and bouncy curls. She looked like a dead plant compared to most in the room. Her green dress dulling out her bright eyes.
But he, surely didnt think that. Did he? Why was hazel eyes tempting her. Was he trying to get her to talk to him- Or was it all in her head.
The blonde glanced around. Just like that, Lydia was gone again- off onto the dance floor. Or maybe to a random hallway of somekind- getting herself some random guy. Ah. Lydia- The flirt.
Her eyes met his one last time, this time accompanied by a handsome half smile. He was quite geeky looking, with those rounded glasses. But he looked sweet, unknowingly charming.
Vivian eventually shuffled away from the table, her beige heels clicking on the polished floor. Her walk was smooth now, her long strides making the sides of her dress flow almost behind her. Like a cluster of bright green leaves falling to the ground.
Eventually, Vivian made her way up to hazel eyes, well, up to the bar. It would've been quite awkward just to run up and say hello. Especially after all the goo goo eyes. So, she acted like she had something to do- thank goodness there was a bar right there. She could pretend she wanted something. Maybe a Shirley temple?
Certainly a Shirley temple would suffice after this strange, and long day.
A waiter greeted her as she hopped up on a metal barstool, folding her hands onto the polished mohogany table.
"What would you like to start off Miss?" The male smiled at her. His black hair was slicked back, he wore a red suit, along with most of the staff at the party. Red, to match with the fall decor.
The ballroom was beautifully grand, dark wood flooring and paintings covering every which way. The ceiling wad quite tall, with 4 glass chandeliers covering each quadrant of the room. There was subtle fall decorum, candles, dim lights, smooth jazzy tunes. It was comforting and frankly quite warming to Vivian.
"A Shirley temple." Vivian replied, her voice smooth, as she happily tapped on the glossy wooden bar. "Two cherries please." She nodded, as she turned the stool away from him and to the party, her eyes scanning for the hazel eyes once more.
She couldn't find them, and then she felt a small, two finger tap on her shoulder.
