Jasper (
keptherwaiting) wrote2020-07-29 04:32 pm
1948, Philadelphia
Waiting for Alice to finish getting ready, Jasper is far more excited and confident than nervous for their date this time.
She’d made him shower first, not wanting him to put on his fancy clothes without one, and then she’d disappeared into the bathroom with more than one bag in her arms after he’d finished. His suit had been left on the bed, which he’d changed into quickly - a perfect fit, because she knows him so perfectly and so finely crafted too - and then he’d been left to more or less think about their upcoming night.
He feels good, more sure of himself than he has been in awhile, and vows to make up for the little stumbles earlier by making sure Alice has a great time tonight.
He’s sure Alice will look beautiful, she always does, and he knows he looks great, because Alice picked out the suit especially for him. He wonders where they’ll go to dance; Alice has said she knew of a place. And it’s still early enough, a Friday, and even the quietest of weeknights in Philly have seen plenty of activity.
He’s just thinking of fetching another bouquet of flowers for her - the other already artfully displayed on a table - when the door to the bathroom finally creaks open.
He turns and sucks in an appropriately sharp breath at the sight of her.
She’d made him shower first, not wanting him to put on his fancy clothes without one, and then she’d disappeared into the bathroom with more than one bag in her arms after he’d finished. His suit had been left on the bed, which he’d changed into quickly - a perfect fit, because she knows him so perfectly and so finely crafted too - and then he’d been left to more or less think about their upcoming night.
He feels good, more sure of himself than he has been in awhile, and vows to make up for the little stumbles earlier by making sure Alice has a great time tonight.
He’s sure Alice will look beautiful, she always does, and he knows he looks great, because Alice picked out the suit especially for him. He wonders where they’ll go to dance; Alice has said she knew of a place. And it’s still early enough, a Friday, and even the quietest of weeknights in Philly have seen plenty of activity.
He’s just thinking of fetching another bouquet of flowers for her - the other already artfully displayed on a table - when the door to the bathroom finally creaks open.
He turns and sucks in an appropriately sharp breath at the sight of her.

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He sits back in the booth just taking in the music. At some point the waitress returns with their drinks but they go untouched.
He plays with Alice’s fingers, his skating over hers, entwining and parting.
“I like the jazz,” he decides, when one song ends and the next kicks off. Something a little slower paced this time.
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She curls her finger under his chin, turning his head toward her. "I want to dance with you, to a slow song. I want to dance with you to fast songs, and every song, but right now, I want to sway back and forth to this music."
And fall more in love. She's not sure she can fall any more in love, but she's sure as hell going to try.
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“Alice.“
He leans in kissing her deeply, losing himself in her lips, her mouth, her touch for a moment.
He almost doesn’t want to part and yet he really wants to dance with her too.
“C’mon, darlin’, let’s sway,” he murmurs as he takes her by the hand and leads her out to the floor with the other couples.
He pulls her close, looking into her eyes, as they start to sway together to the music.
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It doesn't matter.
She rests her chin on his chest as she looks up at him, leaning into him as much as possible. They're much closer than any other couple on the dance floor but again--it doesn't matter. She's got Jasper to look at and that's all she cares about right now.
"Mr. Whitlock," Alice murmurs, smiling up at him. "Has anyone told you how handsome you are?"
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He hugs Alice close, not caring that their sway doesn’t match the beat of the music, or that they’re too close than may be appropriate.
“Most beautiful girl I’ve ever met too. She approached me in a diner like it was the most natural thing in the world.”
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They’re barely moving, compared to the others on the dance floor; a simple sway back and forth and it might be the most romantic moment Alice has experienced in 28 years.
Only right, she thinks, to spend it here with him. The man literally from her dreams (if she could dream).
“I’m really happy you took my hand. Happier still you stayed.”
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He can certainly promise her that, if not more at the moment.
He steps back to take her hand in his and spin her out before pulling her close once more.
“I - I’m really happy. Happier than I’ve ever been.”
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God, she loves him. So much it almost hurts.
Her smile can’t be contained, she just keeps beaming up at him. “I’m glad,” Alice whispers. “That you’re happy. I like it when you’re happy.”
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“You’re happy too?”
He can tell, can feel her happiness and love as certainly as his own, but it doesn’t hurt to ask too.
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She watches as she curls her fingers around his, her hand so small compared to his.
She’s never felt truly unsafe in this world, so she’s not sure it’s fair to say this, but: here in Jasper’s arms, she feels the safest she’s ever been.
“I can truly say I’ve never been happier.”
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He may feel what she feels but he likes to hear it too.
Her words warm him, and he holds her close just swaying with her until the end of the song and through the momentary interlude before the band kicks off again.
The music picks up this time, and near them the dancers start picking up their feet, moving to the sound.
Jasper hasn’t a clue what he’s doing when he it comes to this kind of dancing but he moves his feet like another gentleman’s he sees.
He may look ridiculous, but he doesn’t care if Alice laughs. He loves hearing her laugh.
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There’s a complicated bit of footwork she manages to pull off—even manages to make it look effortless, but she looks surprised that she got it.
“Hah,” Alice laughs, grinning and pulling herself back into his embrace. “I’d seen that a few days ago, wasn’t sure I could do that!”
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“Let’s sit,” she murmurs, a tad breathless. “Let the professionals handle it for a bit. I wanna kiss you, in our booth.”
Her smile is impish as she twirls past him to go back to their table, settling into the plush booth with a flourish.
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He happily follows her back to the booth, squeezing in next to her with a grin.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs into her ear once he’s settled all cozy next to her, an arm around her shoulder and a hand on her knee under the table. “I know I’ve said it probably a thousand times now, and I’ll just say it a thousand times more.”
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On the one hand—she wants to dance more but on the other: Jasper and the words he says that make butterflies flutter in her stomach, her legs turn to jelly.
Alice, her smile bright, her cheeks pink with blush that imitates what she sometimes wishes would happen under his gaze, leans forward, her hand curling at his neck, and kisses him deeply.
“You’ll never be rid of me,” she giggles against his lips. “If you keep tellin’ me such pretty compliments.”
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He kisses her again, deeply, at which the waitress who had been approaching their table quickly turns and walks away with a giggle.
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The scent of the world just before and just after it rains on a warm day, the sparkle of a pretty diamond in the set of her jewelry, the twirl of a new skirt.
New things thrill her right now--the feeling of being around Jasper, the smell of him, the feel of him, the taste of him. The way he has to curl in over her, to reach her, to fit against her.
She smooths her hand over the front of his jacket, up into his hair, tangling her fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck as she kisses him, lost in the world that is just him.
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It makes him feel like he’s on top of the world.
And he wants her to feel that way too. Vows to ensure she always does.
He pulls back, only a little, his mouth still close to hers, still greedy for her.
“Thank you for bringing me here. For coming out with me,” he says with a gentle smile. “And for earlier too. I don’t think I’ve said so yet, but I appreciate your helping me through that.”
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She chases his mouth, the tiny space between them closing fast. "If you want me, of course."
There's a sly curve to her lips though, as if she knows he wants her--and she does. In more than just the way her words imply, too.
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“Do you want me to show you how much?” he asks, his smile a mirror to hers.
He squeezes her knee gently, fingers flexing.
“I could, you know.”
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Once the waitress has turned her back, however, Alice very purposely lets her knees part, under the gentle pressure of his hand.
"You should," she whispers, her lips close to his again. "You should show me."
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“Not exactly what I meant, darlin’, but - “
He glances around, an eyebrow raised to ensure no one is paying any attention to them, and then smirks as he slides his hand a little further up her skirt.
“I’m starting to feel like I’ve corrupted you,” he says with a laugh as he brushes his fingers along her inner thigh. “It’s not just about this for me though. I want you to know that.”
He presses his palm flat against against her skin and concentrates on using his powers, to have her feel everything he’s felt in the past few days:
Hope, trust, want, desire, loved, happiness, appreciation, kindness, admiration, (love), joy, tenderness, need, and more. So much more.
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She wants to say it, wants to tell him what he already knows (because how can he not, when it bubbles up out of her entire being) but she's terrified it's the wrong thing to say, that saying the words will break the spell and he'll leave.
What if he leaves? He is all she has wanted, searched for, needed, for twenty-eight years.
Alice swallows hard, her lips twitching, tucking an errant curl behind his ear. "You're perfect, Jasper Whitlock. Absolutely perfect."
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He can feel it: her love for him. Even now. (He doesn’t know how he’d react if she said it, only knows that he wouldn’t run from her.) Kissing her is just one of many responses to it.
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