Exactly seven, and she couldn't help but chuckle. So literal, but also exactly what should be expected.
She wiped her hand, before hurrying to answer the door. She didn't want to make him wait, because that would make her feel like a cliche. Also while she didn't have nosy neighbors, you never know who might pop out of their apartment when.
She realized she was unprepared, when she opened the door. Her eyes swept him over, her brain unhelpfully chiming that he looked really good, and forgot for a solid to seconds that she was supposed to speak.
"Hey." Good work, Claire. Starting on a great foot. Maybe reign your hormones in, at least until you've fed the man. "You take punctuality to a whole new level, don't you. Come on in."
Wesker wasn't too worried about potentially being seen by neighbors. None of them were likely to know who he was, and while they might think he looked suspicious, Claire could easily reassure them some other time.
His lips turned up in a small smile at the speechlessness of his evening companion. How would she have reacted if he'd dressed up?
He gave her a quick once over as he held the rose out to her, though she wouldn't notice because of his shades.
"Did you expect any less?" he asked, allowing his arm to lightly brush hers as he stepped inside, just to see her reaction.
It likely said something about her, that she didn't notice the rose, until he was handing to her. She's not sure what though. It's still flattering though. Not over the top, but thoughtful.
"I shouldn't."
It had been a while, since she'd done anything remotely like dating, but that brush of his arm on hers felt intentional. And she'd just take a moment to clise the door, and silently pull herself together. This was real, and happening, and she had food on the stove.
Her apartment was a nice size. Warm and tidy. The floorplan was an open design into the kitchen, where she had an island with cushy stools. She walked around him, getting back to the pan she has on the stovetop.
"Make yourself at home. This just needs another few minutes."
Claire's apartment had a nice, cozy atmosphere, which was something he wasn't very accustomed to. It was something he appreciated though, and making himself at home was easier because of it. Wesker followed her toward the kitchen and took a seat on one of the stools, placing the bottle of wine on the counter while she got back to cooking.
Dinner certainly smelled good. A small part of him had almost expected they'd be sharing containers of Chinese food. Not that he'd necessarily have a problem with that.
She had settled on a Tuscan chicken, which only took her way too long to decide on. At least, it cooked fairly quickly. And it looked nice as she plated it up.
"Tada. This Redfield can do more than calling for pizza," she joked lightly, setting the plates down. She grabbed a corkscrew and passed to him. "Would you open that?"
"I suspect that's the extent of the knowledge your brother was able to pass on regarding food."
The meal Claire had prepared looked as good as it smelled. Wesker didn't often sit down to a nice meal, so this would be a pleasant treat for him. One of many for the night, he hoped.
"Of course."
Removing the cork was nothing to him. He probably made it look as though it was barely held in place. When he held the corkscrew out to her, he asked, "Glasses?"
She was moving to get them, even as he asked. And after only a second of debate, the good napkins, with the silverware. It was a night for good impressions, after all.
"He was a single legal guardian, so if I wanted something that wasn't takeout or Chef Boyardee, I had to learn to make it myself."
She settled into her seat, deciding to sit at the end, so they'd be beside each other, but it'd still be easy to talk. She lifted her glass in a little salute.
"He taught me plenty of other useful things. Cheers."
Wesker filled their glasses and set the bottle aside, then settled back into his seat. This wasn't necessarily a traditional romantic dinner, but it was cozy and intimate. The fact that she was trying to impress him didn't go unnoticed, but she had already impressed him in other ways. If she hadn't, he wouldn't be with her now.
"Other single parents seem to do just fine," he pointed out. When he raised his glass to her, he added, "But I hope he passed his combat training on to you. His skills were, and presumably still are, commendable."
"He did, but I know that he has never outrun a helicopter with a rail gun."
She's taken out zombies and tyrants, but that's the thing she bragged about. It was intended to be lighthearted, since bringing up all the other things she's beaten tread a bit close to work talk. And she didn't want to talk about Chris all night.
He didn't want to spend too much time talking about Chris either, nor did he want to tread toward the subject of work. They were on opposing sides where that was concerned.
He took a sip of his wine, considering her response for a moment. It was interesting to him that Claire saw so many positive attributes when others in her life would no doubt speak poorly of him on a regular basis.
"Dancing is not a talent many would expect me to have, I suppose."
Other people recognized those traits as well, they just coded them differently, because Wesker has harmed them, in their use. She just chose to see them as they were; his motivations didn't make him any less skilled.
"I would say so." She was surprised, in the good way. "You come off as someone who wouldn't be interested in dancing."
Admittedly, it wasn't something he had cared about at the time. Study and work seemed far more important. As he grew older, it was a skill he learned to appreciate.
"What do I seem like I would be interested in? Obvious choices aside."
Because of course his interest in science extended beyond his work.
"A good choice. I do enjoy a game of chess now and then, but mastery of the game requires a time commitment I simply can't afford."
There were too many other things to be done, and world class chess masters spent hours upon hours poring over strategies. While he could admire the dedication, that wasn't something he could see himself doing even if he did have the time.
"What occupies your time when you aren't working, dear heart?"
Her eyes lit up, because yes, she'd love to see his fucking Jag.
"I would. Later." Because she also has set plans for the evening. They do not involve leaving the apartment.
And that thought hovered in her head a bit, like it had repeatedly over the last few days. Wesker was here, in her apartment, for a very specific reason. That didn't have to involve dinner, or getting-to-know-you talk. She looked up at him then, studying his face, half hidden by those sunglasses.
"Thank you, by the way. For humoring me like this."
The look in her eyes didn't go unnoticed, but he chose not to comment on it. He wasn't sure if she was excited because it was a Jaguar or because it was his Jaguar, but he guessed she didn't get many opportunities to have a good look at or ride in one.
"Humoring you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're assuming I wouldn't have joined you for dinner without the prospect of sex."
Though it's a bit charming that was where he went to first: her asking him out.
"I'm saying this is technically an unnecessary step, since we both know what we want here. It's mostly for my comfort, and I appreciate you making the consideration."
Wesker would have thought she was foolish if she'd said no. He had hurt her in the past, and she had no good reason to believe that he wouldn't do so again.
Though he had no intentions of hurting her, Wesker hoped she would never fully trust him. It was never wise to fully trust anyone.
"Always remain cautious, dear heart. It will serve you well in life."
That sounded a bit more ominous than he intended, but hopefully she would take it as life advice and not some sort of threat.
She didn't take it as a threat. It didn't really have the right ring to it. Instead, she smiled wryly at him.
"I may be a bit ahead of your advice. I intend to warn you eventually; I keep a gun on my nightstand. And don't take it wrong, but it's staying there."
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She wiped her hand, before hurrying to answer the door. She didn't want to make him wait, because that would make her feel like a cliche. Also while she didn't have nosy neighbors, you never know who might pop out of their apartment when.
She realized she was unprepared, when she opened the door. Her eyes swept him over, her brain unhelpfully chiming that he looked really good, and forgot for a solid to seconds that she was supposed to speak.
"Hey." Good work, Claire. Starting on a great foot. Maybe reign your hormones in, at least until you've fed the man. "You take punctuality to a whole new level, don't you. Come on in."
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His lips turned up in a small smile at the speechlessness of his evening companion. How would she have reacted if he'd dressed up?
He gave her a quick once over as he held the rose out to her, though she wouldn't notice because of his shades.
"Did you expect any less?" he asked, allowing his arm to lightly brush hers as he stepped inside, just to see her reaction.
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"I shouldn't."
It had been a while, since she'd done anything remotely like dating, but that brush of his arm on hers felt intentional. And she'd just take a moment to clise the door, and silently pull herself together. This was real, and happening, and she had food on the stove.
Her apartment was a nice size. Warm and tidy. The floorplan was an open design into the kitchen, where she had an island with cushy stools. She walked around him, getting back to the pan she has on the stovetop.
"Make yourself at home. This just needs another few minutes."
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Dinner certainly smelled good. A small part of him had almost expected they'd be sharing containers of Chinese food. Not that he'd necessarily have a problem with that.
"Take your time, dear heart. I'm in no rush."
Certainly not to leave.
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She had settled on a Tuscan chicken, which only took her way too long to decide on. At least, it cooked fairly quickly. And it looked nice as she plated it up.
"Tada. This Redfield can do more than calling for pizza," she joked lightly, setting the plates down. She grabbed a corkscrew and passed to him. "Would you open that?"
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The meal Claire had prepared looked as good as it smelled. Wesker didn't often sit down to a nice meal, so this would be a pleasant treat for him. One of many for the night, he hoped.
"Of course."
Removing the cork was nothing to him. He probably made it look as though it was barely held in place. When he held the corkscrew out to her, he asked, "Glasses?"
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"He was a single legal guardian, so if I wanted something that wasn't takeout or Chef Boyardee, I had to learn to make it myself."
She settled into her seat, deciding to sit at the end, so they'd be beside each other, but it'd still be easy to talk. She lifted her glass in a little salute.
"He taught me plenty of other useful things. Cheers."
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"Other single parents seem to do just fine," he pointed out. When he raised his glass to her, he added, "But I hope he passed his combat training on to you. His skills were, and presumably still are, commendable."
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She's taken out zombies and tyrants, but that's the thing she bragged about. It was intended to be lighthearted, since bringing up all the other things she's beaten tread a bit close to work talk. And she didn't want to talk about Chris all night.
"What about you? What's your hidden talent?"
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"What makes you think I have one?"
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Another type of woman might have come off as stroking his ego. But Claire was just matter of fact. This is what she saw, when she looked at him.
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He took a sip of his wine, considering her response for a moment. It was interesting to him that Claire saw so many positive attributes when others in her life would no doubt speak poorly of him on a regular basis.
"Dancing is not a talent many would expect me to have, I suppose."
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"I would say so." She was surprised, in the good way. "You come off as someone who wouldn't be interested in dancing."
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Admittedly, it wasn't something he had cared about at the time. Study and work seemed far more important. As he grew older, it was a skill he learned to appreciate.
"What do I seem like I would be interested in? Obvious choices aside."
Because of course his interest in science extended beyond his work.
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There were too many other things to be done, and world class chess masters spent hours upon hours poring over strategies. While he could admire the dedication, that wasn't something he could see himself doing even if he did have the time.
"What occupies your time when you aren't working, dear heart?"
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No need to comment further, because there was too many thorny paths they might end up on.
"What wouldn't be obvious," she pondered, while chewing. She didn't like taking with hey mouth full. Points for being classy?
"I'm learning about cars. I know how to fix bikes, but cars are a bit different."
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"You're welcome to have a look at my Jaguar, if you like."
Though preferably not until morning.
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"I would. Later." Because she also has set plans for the evening. They do not involve leaving the apartment.
And that thought hovered in her head a bit, like it had repeatedly over the last few days. Wesker was here, in her apartment, for a very specific reason. That didn't have to involve dinner, or getting-to-know-you talk. She looked up at him then, studying his face, half hidden by those sunglasses.
"Thank you, by the way. For humoring me like this."
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"Humoring you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're assuming I wouldn't have joined you for dinner without the prospect of sex."
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Though it's a bit charming that was where he went to first: her asking him out.
"I'm saying this is technically an unnecessary step, since we both know what we want here. It's mostly for my comfort, and I appreciate you making the consideration."
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"I don't mind at all."
Though speaking of her comfort, he was curious...
"Being alone with me doesn't make you uncomfortable?"
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So far, being honest had been working out for them. She didn't see any reason not to continue with it.
"Our history is impossible to forget, but that doesn't stop me from wanting this. I'm trusting you, the way you're trusting me."
Though she was aware that it wasn't exactly balanced, here them. Claire had a lot more at risk, than he did. But it was still a gamble.
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Though he had no intentions of hurting her, Wesker hoped she would never fully trust him. It was never wise to fully trust anyone.
"Always remain cautious, dear heart. It will serve you well in life."
That sounded a bit more ominous than he intended, but hopefully she would take it as life advice and not some sort of threat.
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"I may be a bit ahead of your advice. I intend to warn you eventually; I keep a gun on my nightstand. And don't take it wrong, but it's staying there."
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Hi stranger <3