AntonTovaras
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 8, 2012
- Posts
- 380
He gave her a weak smile when she cracked about going back out. He was stiff and sore enough that the thought terrified him, even though he knew she was teasing him. Slowly he rolled his shoulders, wincing.
"Yeah. Maybe tomorrow," he said. Or maybe not. He wondered how long it would take before he felt right again. He had felt like this once before, one day shooting Northwest, when they took 57 takes of him sprinting up a three story fire escape. The last time he talked to Carter, he learned that scene had been cut. The next two days he could hardly walk. He sipped his coffee and dug into the breakfast, which was out of this world. He smiled at Misha and shook his head in amazement.
"You keep cooking like this, I'm stuffing you into my carry-on and taking you back to LA with me," he said. He would take her back to LA, too, he thought, if she'd go. Though not in his carry-on, and not just because she made the hands-down best mango french toast ever. He chuckled at himself.
"This afternoon," he said. "I should go back to town and straighten things out with Temaru. I know it was you he was doing a favor for, but I said I'd be back tomorrow and today is tomorrow to yesterday. Well, you know what I mean."
He looked at her and took a deep breath.
"I might ... um ... check out the local night life, while I'm there." He frowned and stared intently at his plate. He knew there was no reason for him to feel bad about it. He was supposed to be here having fun, and she worked here. They both understood that they couldn't get together, and the longer he kept his sites set on her, the harder it would be to resist temptation.
"I'm not so sure about the boat, but you said there's a car, maybe I can take?" he stood up, still not wanting to look at her. He knew there was no reason it should bother him so much, but somehow, it did. He looked at her, his brow tight, and sighed.
"Yeah. Maybe tomorrow," he said. Or maybe not. He wondered how long it would take before he felt right again. He had felt like this once before, one day shooting Northwest, when they took 57 takes of him sprinting up a three story fire escape. The last time he talked to Carter, he learned that scene had been cut. The next two days he could hardly walk. He sipped his coffee and dug into the breakfast, which was out of this world. He smiled at Misha and shook his head in amazement.
"You keep cooking like this, I'm stuffing you into my carry-on and taking you back to LA with me," he said. He would take her back to LA, too, he thought, if she'd go. Though not in his carry-on, and not just because she made the hands-down best mango french toast ever. He chuckled at himself.
"This afternoon," he said. "I should go back to town and straighten things out with Temaru. I know it was you he was doing a favor for, but I said I'd be back tomorrow and today is tomorrow to yesterday. Well, you know what I mean."
He looked at her and took a deep breath.
"I might ... um ... check out the local night life, while I'm there." He frowned and stared intently at his plate. He knew there was no reason for him to feel bad about it. He was supposed to be here having fun, and she worked here. They both understood that they couldn't get together, and the longer he kept his sites set on her, the harder it would be to resist temptation.
"I'm not so sure about the boat, but you said there's a car, maybe I can take?" he stood up, still not wanting to look at her. He knew there was no reason it should bother him so much, but somehow, it did. He looked at her, his brow tight, and sighed.