DudeMeister and LaBellaMia

The loud ringing of the bell signaled the end of the ninth round, yet both of the pugilists involved were still trading blows, their machismo pride carrying on the fray until the referee stepped in-between them to split the two fighters apart. Vic didn't take his eyes off of the man across from him until his own corner pulled him back and sat him in the stool, his coach barking directions at him as he dipped a sponge in some water and splashed it on him in an effort to revive him. Vic was not an ugly man by any means. Standing 6'2'' and weighting 200 pounds of muscle, he cut an imposing figure that went along with his rugged face that was covered with a rough brown stubble, his medium length hair messy. Yet after a 9 round war he looked like hell. His lips were busted, struggling to open as his cornerman pulled his mouthguard out to cleanse it, his face red and bruised from taking shots. That, and a nasty cut above the brow of his left eye that was opened from a nasty headbutt in the seventh round. The two fighters were of equal weight, reach, and stature, yet that was where the similarities ended. Although Vic couldn't even dream of having the light grace and speed of Muhammad Ali, he was explosive and powerful, with a orthodox style that protected him even whilst he was dishing out concussive blows. His opponent was a brawler, and his corner warned him about headbutts: the last five fights with this guy ended with a doctor's stoppage from cuts. The cunt was rough and dirty on the inside.

Vic knew that his coach was blowing a gasket trying to yell orders at him, noticed the slightly bellow average ring girl strut the tenth round card, and felt his cut man slather Vaseline upon his eyebrow to stop the bleeding. He didn't need to be a genius to know what was going on: if that cut got any worse they'd stop the fight, and Vic would lose in the worst possible way to a pussy who couldn't fight clean. When the seconds were called out of the ring for the fight to resume Vic charged his man with a fury to end this fight. He through his jab and right cross, the previous snapping his head back and the latter landing against his gloves. Vic pivoted his front foot horizontally to torque his body into a left hook. He had been throwing this combination all night, and the bum before him raised his arm up to impede the assault. Only the hook didn't go for his head, but instead dug into his right side. Vic had dealt and received shots to the liver, and it was never fun. The brunt of his force broke a rib and bruised the vital organ, and as the man grimaced and coughed in pain, Vic unloaded tight hooks to his exposed face. He pursued his man into the ropes, unleashing what was known as the 'Dempsey Roll', his whole body pivoting and torquing into each shot.

It was after a right hook did the man's head snap violently, and soon plunged face first into the canvas with the loud thud of a man separated from his senses. The referee didn't even bother to count and waved the man off. The fight was over. Vic Hearns raised his gloved fists in victory having become the third top contender for the title as medics flooded into the ring to attend to his unlucky adversary

Beth McCormick, gave a sigh as she stood off to the side while at her dad's little gathering. He had insisted she attend, if only to take a break from school but being here had turned into a mistake. Unlike her outgoing and vivacious older sister, 21 year old Beth was more content to stick to the shadows and out of everyone's hair. She was the family's black sheep. Instead of pursing a degree in business, she was working on a degree for visual art. Her sister could inherit the family business and majority of wealth that her father had accumulated since investing in stocks and then in sports. It was because of the latter that she was here this evening. A boxer he sponsored through the company had managed to become a top three contender in a fight a few days ago and they were all celebrating what could possibly be a great victory.

Taking a sip of champagne, the young redhead sighed and looked down at her glass, content to stand off to the side as people enjoyed the gathering. She was certainly beautiful. Dark auburn hair for the moment done up in a cute up do, flawless pale skin, bright eyes as green as emeralds and full lips that were dark pink and settled under a cute nose. She stood at around five feet six inches tall, not completely short but many a man dwarfed her and was slender enough with c cup breasts and a nicely rounded ass. Despite her looks, she hadn't ever really dated. Most guys she met just wanted to get in her pants and she had to much pride in herself to just sleep with anyone. Besides, she had never really met a man that actually made her even consider having sex. Most were slime balls and she was far to shy to put herself out there and look for Mr. Right.

Fixing the hem of her black cocktail dress, Beth looked around and then slowly meandered through the crowd, making her way to the back terrace. Lights were strung up, and there were a few people walking around but it wasn't as bad as the crush inside the ballroom. Sighing, she leant against the stone balcony, taking another sip of champagne and looked out at the inner courtyard of the hotel then smiled, heading down toward the lighted pool. Reaching it, she glanced around then took off her heels, slowly sinking down on the concrete and then dipping her toes in the cool water, giving a grin. It certainly felt good.

As soon as the fight was over, Vic and his corner made their way through the crowd screaming fans into the fighter's locker room. After a quick shower Vic submitted himself to the doctor's treatment. The cut thankfully hadn't opened too much after the clash of heads, but it still required stitches. He wouldn't be able to spar for a couple of weeks, but he would be able to train in the gym and do his roadwork. If he stayed ready, he wouldn't have to get ready. Tomorrow would be a day to rest his weary bones. No doubt he'd be sore and have trouble getting out of bed in the morning, but that was his lot in life. He wouldn't have it any other way.

He tugged at the tie that was noosed around his neck as he was being driven to the party a few days after the fight. Although he had his fair share of bruises on his face the swelling on his brow and lips went down. Still the suit felt foreign to him. His manager insisted on getting all metrosexualed up for this society thing. He didn't like the idea one bit. After the car finally pulled up to the hotel, he and his corner mingled…well to be honest they mingled, but this was not his sort of gathering. He was born to a blue-collar family, and laced his first pair of gloves at 6. This high society crowd meant nothing to him. After shaking hands with a few of the sponsors and signing a few autographs, he made his way to the bar and snatched 4 bottles of beer. Immediately looking for a quite place to relax he caught a glimpse of some redhead. He couldn't distinguish much from this distance…but he had a thing for redheads. If he played his cards right he could certainly score tonight.

Making his way downstairs, he quietly took a seat near the lighted pool. The woman was curvaceous and slender, with perfect fair skin to go along with that lovely head of auburn hair. A proper ginger…how lucky was he. Popping off the cap to one of the brews, he drank a swig.

"I know…not my kinda party either. Music's too loud as well. Gives me a headache" he said after he pulled the bottleneck from his lips, chuckling slightly. Although he was rugged and rough, he came across as a down to earth guy.

"May I offer you a drink?" he asked her, holding up a bottle of beer

She looked at him as he settled near the pool then flushed, getting up, taking the offered beer and giving a gentle smile. "I...I'm not a party person at all really. I'm only here because dad insisted I socialize a bit...he thinks I'm going to die a spinster," she gave a gentle laugh and then popped open the beer, taking a swig before turning to look back at the water. Gazing at him, she smiled. "You must be Vic. My dad and his company are one of your spinsters. Eddie MCormack," she said then slowly sank down on the chair next to him, crossing her ankles in a proper manner.

"I'm Beth by the way...the younger sister. Not Erin..." She said, guessing he knew of her pretty, size zero, model sister who lived life like an heiress. The one who partied, had a string of famous boyfriends from boxers to models to actors and the one working on her degree in business. Biting her bottom lip, she took another swig of the beer and then looked at the water before glancing toward the hotel where the party commenced. "She is probably going to be out here soon, complaining about my sulking and inability to mingle..." She gave a gentle smirk and then looked down at her beer, blushing as she took another sip, tucking a loose bang back from her face then slowly looking back at him.

Vic watched her as she turned to him in surprise, obviously not knowing he was there. She than caught a site of her magnificent rear as she got up from the edge of the pool made her way over to him. She was just right: her elegant gait, her crimson locks, her luscious lips. She was just the sort of woman he was after for tonight. He handed her the beer and took a swig with her, shaking her hand when she introduced herself.

"Erin, Erin…oh yeah now I remember her. I met her a couple of times…but I always thought that she was Eddie's walking stick. Never knew she was his daughter" he said cockily. Sure it was a bit of a barb, but he meant nothing by it. He drank in the site of her face as his gaze leveled to her emerald green eyes. They were the type that he could get lost in. He had a few redheads in the past…but none as stunning as her. From her manner, he was under the impression that she was the shyer, more introverted type. Well, nothing wrong with that. He'd just have to coax her a bit more. Nothing he couldn't handle

"Well, in my business it's not recommended to be a party person. So let's sulk together. Cheers!" he said, holding up his bottle to clink with her's

She gave a soft laugh, clinking their bottles together. "Cheers," she echoed then took a sip of her beer. "Yeah. Erin's the one that isn't afraid to get drunk and have photographers watching her every move." She smiled a little. She did love her sister but the woman had a reputation. One Beth hoped to never carry. Being famous for being the daughter of a rich CEO wasn't exactly the life she wanted. The spotlight was not for her. Taking another sip, she glanced at him "If you don't like parties so much, why did you come? I mean...parties aren't a part of the boxing contract are they?" she asked, her gaze observing him. He was a good looking man, if one could look past the stitched wound above his eye and the bruises. Honestly though, she was surprised he wasn't at the party trying to get into the bed of a woman like her sister. Did he want to sleep with her? No. That couldn't be possible. Guys grew bored with her because she was so painfully shy and were more for the type of girls that flung themselves at them. He was just being friendly.

She bit her bottom lip then looked back at the pool. "I doubt I stay much longer. I'm here more for appearance's sake than I am anything else. I just wanted my dad to get off my back about not involving myself in this part of my life. I'd rather be home, painting, working on my next project..." She sighed then looked at him. "I'm an artist...I paint, draw and stuff...not exactly the sort of lifestyle that my father and sister enjoy..."

"Well…after six weeks of a tough training camp, a party seemed welcome. When I train, I cut out all alcohol, all partying, and women. I figured I'd enjoy myself more than I actually did. I mean it counts for my sponsors to go to events like this, to sign autographs and take pictures…but I can't stand these snobs. I mean excuse me, but I wasn't raised around people like this." he said, finishing a bottle and moving onto a second. So, she was an artist. He could totally see that.

"You seem the type. So you're into Monet and Degas and that sorta thing?" he asked, horribly mispronouncing their names

"Well, I wouldn't mind cutting out early. Perhaps I can walk you home and see what you've been working on" he said

"Monet, Degas, Da Vinci," she agreed then flushed at his offer to walk her home. It wasn't to far of a walk either and she wasn't sure if his offer to see her work was a sort of come on or a general interest. "The company would be nice...though you don't really strike me as the type that takes a great interest in art when you don't pronounce the names right," she was teasing him of course and smiled before taking another sip of her beer. "But sure. I will show you what I'm working on," she grinned. She wasn't proud of a lot of things but her art was her life. She had been drawing for as long as she could remember and experimenting with different mediums and found painting and sketch more for her than sculpture or pottery. Slowly, she stood and then finished off her beer. "We can go now if you want? I live a couple of blocks south of here. About a ten minute walk..." She walked over, grabbing her shoes, bending over gracefully before fixing her dress then looking back at him with a smile.

"I am curious. Have you always been a boxer? I mean, was it your calling? Like for me, it's art you know...it's just, what I love to do and I have been doing it since I was little. Much to my dad's chagrin," she smiled then heard the sound of her sister's voice. "Crap...she is like the shark from Jaws. She should come with her own theme music." Ducking down, she peaked above the bushes, watching her sister look around, calling for her before looking exasperated and walking back inside.

"Well, you can excuse me for not being exposed. Being cultured his not part of a boxer's job description. As soon as other fighters think you're civilized, the more they'll think that you're a pushover." he said, before he watched her get up and collect her shoes. He allowed a quick gander at her ass as she bent over, his head turning sideways at the sight of it. As he heard her ask her question, his gaze immediately reverted back to eye level, a skill he worked many years on.

"Well, it was less of a calling, and more of a niche. I came from a poor family, and we lived in a poor neighborhood. My dad was a construction worker, so he was a bit rough around the edges, but he was a good man. He kinda instilled that in me. But growing up in the neighborhood that I grew up in, I had to fight to defend myself and my little brothers." he said, smirking as he finished his second bottle.

"When I lost a fight, my dad took me to a boxing gym. I wasn't the toughest, quickest, or the strongest…but early on everybody knew I wasn't afraid to scrap. It was hard, but it made me a man." he finished as he got up to escort her downstairs. He heard Erin's voice as well, and watched in amusement as Beth hid behind some bushes.

"Don't worry, she's gone now. Shall we?" he asked, offering her his hand to help her out.

Beth took his hand, giving a smile before righting herself, once more smoothing out her dress. She was more apt to wear ripped jeans and a t-shirt rather than a cocktail dress. "Thanks..." She grinned at him then looked down at her shoes before walking with him to the sidewalk, her feet bare on the concrete as they walked away from the hotel and down toward her apartment building. "You have obviously done well for yourself. You should be proud of that. You worked hard to get where you are. Probably have more than a few scars and broken bones along the way. Boxing isn't the easiest sport..." She gave a smile then looked down again, playing with the straps on her shoes.

"You are a lucky guy. Being able to come from nothing, make a name for yourself and a career. It's commendable. I certainly have not done anything noteworthy or had as much drive as you..." Beth looked at him then forward, leading him at an easy pace. "So um...how old are you?" She asked, glancing at him then forward again, the sounds of the city all around them.

"Yeah…I've had my fair share of broken ribs. Broke my nose a couple of times too. But what can you expect when two people are in the ring hurting each other?" he said, laughing slightly as he lightly bent the tip of his nose to the side mockingly. He walked alongside her, feeling her soft and dainty hand in his. Although he didn't enjoy himself at the party, he was satisfied that he met her at least. Perhaps he could see more of her tonight…but something told him that she was more than just another bimbo pretending to be refined by going to art school. She seemed to be more than just a hipster.

"I'm sure that you had your fair share of accomplishments. Unless you're like one of those guys who just splashes paint on the canvas and passes it off as art. Who was that guy again?" he asked, having remembered someone telling him about the artist who did that. He couldn't believe him when he heard it, but he ended up googling the guy that night. He couldn't remember his name though. Boxing wasn't exactly beneficial for the memory.

"However you're a gorgeous redhead. That has to count for something right? As to my age, I'm 26." he added as they made their way to her apartment

"This the place?" he asked, once they were in front of her building

"Yep. This is it. And it's Pollock by the way...the one who splattered paint on a canvas. And I'm more of a fantasy painter," she laughed softly and then unlocked the access before leading him to the elevator. Once on the fifth floor, she led him to her apartment and flipped on the light. It was a pretty spacious apartment and the front room was open revealing the kitchen and living room. There was a small flat screen television, sofa and then one corner dedicated to her work. On the easel was a work in progress of a fairy looking at her reflection in a pool of water. Her finished paintings lined the wall. Paintings of fairy tales and mythical creatures and beautiful medieval scenes. "Here we are..." She smiled and tossed her shoes to the side. She shut the door behind him and then walked toward the open kitchen, grabbing two beers and popping them before coming back, handing him a fresh cold one.

"So yeah...this is my studio slash living space. This art I'm sure isn't your deal. It's my passion though. I don't know. My mom used to read fairy tales to me and I always enjoyed listening, imagining myself as a Princess, locked away on a tower...pretty cheesy I know but..." She blushed and looked at him, then took a swig of beer. "Art dealers don't really enjoy this stuff though. They consider it fan art. I should focus on realism or abstract art but...I don't know, I find this more of my thing..." She looked at him. "It makes me a bit of a dork I guess," she grinned then took a small sip of beer. "Grown women shouldn't love fairy tales like I do but I'm a sucker for a good love story. What can I say," she beamed, feeling like quite a nerd at the mom bet. Shyly, she sat her beer down and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah Pollock, thats his name!" he said, as she led him to the elevator, and welcomed him into her home. It was nice place she had. It was large and spacious, and with many windows to let in plenty of light. Although it wasn't spotless, it was certainly a lot neater than his apartment. That was the benefit to being the daughter of a billionaire. As she set her shoes aside and walked to her open kitchen, he glanced at her paintings. Although he never knew anything about art, he could tell that she was well schooled. Her paintings and drawings were rendered with good technique, her depictions of feys, maidens, and knights rendered in a sweeping elegant style. Vic never could've been considered a cultured guy, but he had to admit that Beth had imagination. He wandered off to her easel and looked at a work in progress, the canvas in the throes of coming to life. As her bare feet pattered towards him, he turned to her and accepted her beer. Thanking her he took a sip, listening to her. She seemed to be a closed off person, yet not quite an introvert. Perhaps she would be the type to open up to the right person, but wether or not he was the right person he didn't know. Guess he'd better take one thing at a time.

"I mean hey, whatever floats your boat. Me and my bros saw all three Lord of the Rings movies when they came out. I took my niece to see 'Frozen' last year, and have recently gotten into Game of Thrones. Gotta love Tyrion…the little guy got balls. I'm no art critic, but from what I see you're more legit than what's-his face…" he said, trying to recall the name from memory. He knew she just mentioned him, but taking hard blows to the head only a few days ago took his toll on him.

"Shit sorry um don't tell me…" he said, bumbling on and closing his eyes as he tried to remember.

"…Pollock right?" he asked, feeling a little awkward at his little bout with amnesia there.

"Yeah," she agreed then nodded. "I saw Frozen with a couple of girlfriends. I'm twenty-one but the seven year old inside of me was super excited about seeing it..." She laughed. "I try to go for the lesser known Grim Fairy tales when I'm depicting. See that one with the man surrounded by animals and holding the hand of the Princess? It is called The White Snake. It's about a man who has the ability to talk to animals and he ends up winning the hand of the Princess after the animals repay his kindness. Nothing at all like the graphic Cinderella stories or throwing a witch in an oven...I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic." She gave a blush then looked at him grinning. "Game of a thrones? You have time to watch it?" She smirked. "I love it...I haven't read the books. I never seem to have the time for them."

Beth took another sip of beer. "Game of a Thrones and this show called Once Upon a Time are my favorites," she smiled, taking another sip of her beer and then looked back at her paintings. "Sorry I don't have anything else to show you..." She blushed.

"Well, I can make time for Game of Thrones. Nothing like watching a show about violence, sex, and intrigue after a day of getting beat up by big sweaty guys. I have not seen Once Upon a Time though. I'll probably get around to it later though" he said, finishing his beer and putting it down.

"You have shown me quite a bit…but I'm sure there are a few more things you can show me…" he said, as he closed the distance between them. His hands slowly raised to her hair. His fingers gently found the pin that held her hair and slowly removed it, freeing her luscious red locks. Her hair tumbling gracefully down in soft ringlets, he gently brushed a lock from her face.

"Yeah…I'd scale a tower for you" he said, backing off and smirking slightly

"I highly recommend it," she smiled then her smile faded. Beth felt her cheeks flush and her eyes widened as he closed the gap between them and loosened her hair. She didn't know why she didn't stop him and felt heat surge through her as he brushed a lock back from her face. His comment was enough to make her nearly embarrassed. Crap. He had been expecting her to have sex with him. As he backed off, she smirked a little and then finished her beer before looking at him.

"Vic...did you only want to see my art because you want to have sex with me?" She asked, blushing despite herself.

Well…that surprised him. He thought that there would be more buildup, but she just went right ahead and asked him straight on. All of a sudden, it felt awkward.

"Well…yes…I mean no. I mean, I wanted to get away from the party earlier, and you seemed like an interesting person. I certainly was hoping for something to happen, but I am not pushing for it. For what it's worth, your a lot more interesting then most women I've been with. You can't deny that you're a good looking woman. If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I can go" he said.

(Sorry for the short post, I don't know where to go from here)

"Well I'm not uncomfortable," she promised then blushed. "Well, you probably aren't going to believe me when I tell you...I uh..." She blushed anew. "I haven't ever well, slept with a guy before...I mean, kissing sure but never actual sex. I'm sure that if I were a bit more experienced in that...err...area I would probably want to. I just...all my life guys have treated me like arm candy and an object." She sank down against the table and looked at him. "I want...respect. Waiting til marriage seems utterly ridiculous but I haven't ever felt...that spark you know...not...not til tonight..." She blushed and looked down. "I don't want you to think I'm a tease or a prude or anything...and to be honest I want to kiss you but...I'm not a one night type of girl...."

Listening to her, Vic understood that his approach had been all wrong. This wasn't a girl who you could hook up and have a fling, then leave the next day. She was a shy introvert, but the type of girl who was a keeper. Beth wasn't a slut you could just bang and leave. Running a hand through her hair, he considered his options very carefully. Finally he panned out what he was going to say to her.

"Let me make you an offer. If you want I can leave you my number and you can call me anytime you want if you ever want to. I am very busy with training and fight promotions, but I'll get back to you. Perhaps we can meet for coffee or dinner sometime. I definitely want to see you again" he said, moving over to a pen and a scrap of paper and quickly jotting down his number.

"As to the second part, you can kiss me if you want. I won't stop you. It doesn't have to go farther than that." he said, smiling softly as he stepped away from her slightly to give her some space, so that she wouldn't feel pressured

Beth liked the feel of his hands in her hair, fingers running over her silken strands and then he was drawing back and saying something about a phone number and dinner. "Dinner sounds nice...Actually it sounds amazing," she smiled at him and then slowly came toward him, lifting herself on tiptoe and pressing her lips to his. But it was like a jolt of electricity. One that nearly stole her breath and she drew back, lips parted, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "Um...so I guess I'll call you..." she smiled and then blushed, brushing her hair back from her face.

"Vic...thank you...for being understanding. Most guys, when they hear stuff like that, they cut and run. I really do appreciate it." She leaned up and then kissed his lips once more.

Vic took in the sight of her making her approach, finding it adorable how she shyly padded over and stood up on the tips of her toes to reach his lips. He slowly closed his eyes as he felt her full lips press against his. It was a soft kiss, nothing two passionate…but it wasn't chaste either. He softly breathed through his nose (thrice broken) as his hands gently climbed to her arms, caressing up to her shoulder gently as the soft sounds of kissing emanated from the two. He didn't know what she felt, but he felt quite a bit as the two locked lips briefly. She was shy…but somewhere underneath all of that was a passionate woman. In his experience the shy girls always were the best in bed. After a few minutes he felt the seal of their lips part. He slowly opened his eyes as she spoke, his hand gently running down her arm.

"Sure thing. Call me anytime" he said softly before he kissed her lips warmly again. He slowly made his way to the door.

"Goodnight Beth" he said, waving a farewell before he walked out of her apartment. She would be on his mind for the rest of the night…and even lingered when he went for his run at five in the morning.

Beth smiled as he left and then sighed dreamily before collapsing onto her couch, her mind filled with thoughts of having such a nice guy to finally have an attraction with.

The next morning, Beth was up at dawn and was surprised to see tickets for a new Gala opening at the museum in her drop box. It started at 12 and she glanced at the phone before wondering if it was to early to call him and ask him for a date. Lunch and a museum exhibit tour didn't seem seductive...though she doubted he would be interested in actually coming to an art exhibit. Even so, she guessed it was worth a shot. Grabbing the phone, she called his number and bit her bottom lip as it rang. When he answered, she had to refrain from sounding giddy. "Um...hey....Vic. This is Beth...I know this is probably to soon to ask for a day out but if you aren't to busy..,I just got dome tickets for a new art exhibit opening and I'm curious if you want to come along? I understand if it really isn't your thing," she added, though secretly hoping that he agreed to come. "It starts around noon. If you wanted to meet me there," she suggested timidly.

Upon completing his morning run, he arrived at the gym at 7:30 to train. The stitches above his eye did not allow him to spar, but at least he was able to train on the heavy bag, his powerful arms driving thunderous punches into them. After an intense session did he finally make it home and exhausted. It was only until after he showered did he begin to prepare breakfast when he got the call. It was a number he didn't recognize, but he answered it anyway. Vic was absolutely thrilled to hear Beth's voice. He hadn't expected to hear from her so soon, and part of him felt that he wouldn't hear from her at all. He cracked a few eggs into a pan as he heard her proposal, and mulled it over a bit. Part to tease her, part because he wasn't sure how interesting it would be to rub elbows with egotistical artistic types.

"Yeah, why not? I can do with a little exposure. May I pick you up at 11?" he asked her

"Yeah...that will be great..." She smiled, saying goodbye before hanging up then gave a soft squeal of delight at the idea of spending time with him. Flushing, she set the phone down, feeling quite giddy. After a light breakfast, she did her morning jog then came back to the apartment for a hot shower. After drying her hair, Beth settled on a simple white blouse and dark jeans, managing to find her favorite flats before checking her reflection in the mirror. Devoid of any makeup except lipgloss, she was certainly lovely and with her hair framing her face, she definitely looked beautiful.

Stepping into the main part of her apartment, she was getting her purse and phone when the buzzer announced his presence. Smiling, she walked to the intercom. "Be right down," she told him, grabbing her light jacket and slipping it on. Once downstairs, Beth smiled at him, brushing her fingers through her hair. "Hi," she greeted shyly.

Vic waited in the lobby after he buzzed her apartment number. He was happy to see her again, but part of him was worried. He knew nothing about art, and art was Beth's life. What if the two had nothing to talk about? What if he made himself look like an ass? With all his lack of culture, it seemed likely that she would see him for the stupid punch drunk lug that he was. His panicked thoughts ceased when he saw her, dressed in a white blouse and a simple pair of jeans that hugged her curves so well. He smiled as she greeted him, moving a lock of hair out of her face and kissing her forehead gently.

"Hi Merida" he said, teasingly as he slowly held her hand in her's

"Have you had lunch yet, or shall we head to the exhibit first?" he asked