“Oh, is that all? Phew! What a relief.” Tim laughed, setting the fork down. “I was afraid maybe you were secretly a serial killer. or maybe a cannibal. Like Hannibal Lector, maybe.” He had enough of the crazies from Zabel and Sophia. The last thing he needed was more evil-doers.
“A serial killer?” No not one of those, but knowing Yin she could end up meeting one some day, “Why do I get the feeling that you have met a serial killer, or a cannibal? People like that aren’t exactly what you meet everyday even in New York.”
“Weeeeeeell,” Tim chewed on his fork, clearly becoming trapped. “It’s a long story really.” Too long. And far too complicated to be explained easily. “No, they’re not. But you never know. Maybe you’re run into more than a few crazies and just never known. Haven’t you ever wondered if you’ve passed a killer’s path or a psychopath’s home before?”
(Source: risetotherush)
“Well, I don’t mind it from you. So I think I’ll be just fine.” Tim smiled, liking the fact that he was around such warmer company than usual. “Nah, I’m pretty much the nice guy inside and out.” With a dash of desperate big brother protector to add to the mix. “What about you? You don’t seem like just the nice nicknaming pie lady.” He teased. “Surely you’ve got some sort of alter ego too.”
Yin snickered once more, but smiled warmly towards Tim, her eyes brimming with happiness, “Well according to my sources I am as nice as they get? I can be demanding though, however I think we all tend to be demanding from time to time,” she shook her head, back on track Yin back on track, “But no. No alter ego or evil twin in existence around these parts darling! Just a girl fluent in Italian and the knack for cooking.”
“Oh, is that all? Phew! What a relief.” Tim laughed, setting the fork down. “I was afraid maybe you were secretly a serial killer. or maybe a cannibal. Like Hannibal Lector, maybe.” He had enough of the crazies from Zabel and Sophia. The last thing he needed was more evil-doers.
The pie was delightful light and crisp, sparkling with the taste of Granny Smith apples and a wonderfully baked crust. The perfect Apple pie, he noted blissfully. “That’s one way of putting it. It makes sense to me.” Tim beamed. “I’m not one for nicknames, I’m more of a professional guy myself.”
Yin snickered delightfully to herself, “Well too bad Timmy you’re gonna have to stick to the nickname. Though as you said, you don’t mind,” she took another bite, “Or—perhaps you do mind and you’re just trying to be Mr. Nice Guy or polite or whatever hm? I can picture that being the case with most people these days.”
“Well, I don’t mind it from you. So I think I’ll be just fine.” Tim smiled, liking the fact that he was around such warmer company than usual. “Nah, I’m pretty much the nice guy inside and out.” With a dash of desperate big brother protector to add to the mix. “What about you? You don’t seem like just the nice nicknaming pie lady.” He teased. “Surely you’ve got some sort of alter ego too.”
(Source: everybody-look-down)
The spectacled man gave a laugh and took a bite of his pie sheepishly. “Well, I mean,” He swallowed quickly in an effort to speak more clearly. “It makes things better doesn’t it? Giving nicknames just makes life seem a little lighter than it really is. In my opinion, anyway.”
“It makes things easier, yeah?” She smiled, and took up her own slice of pie, without the delectable whip cream and a small bite. Ah yes, delicious! “Plus it can be fun to see how people react. I know one person who at first hated me giving him a nickname, but now he knows when I’m serious and call him by his actually name. Haha, like a child.”
The pie was delightful light and crisp, sparkling with the taste of Granny Smith apples and a wonderfully baked crust. The perfect Apple pie, he noted blissfully. “That’s one way of putting it. It makes sense to me.” Tim beamed. “I’m not one for nicknames, I’m more of a professional guy myself.”
“Hey, someone had to break the stereotype, right?” Tim chuckled. “I don’t get really called many nicknames. Even my 10-year-old sister just calls me Tim. But I wouldn’t mind that. Not at all.” Nicknames made him feel like a toy, ordinarily, but in this context maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
“Cool because you would be called Timmy either way,” she chimed, a playful smirk dancing on her lips, “I usually give people nicknames anyway, nothing special. Just something I do really.”
The spectacled man gave a laugh and took a bite of his pie sheepishly. “Well, I mean,” He swallowed quickly in an effort to speak more clearly. “It makes things better doesn’t it? Giving nicknames just makes life seem a little lighter than it really is. In my opinion, anyway.”
The older man chuckled. “I’m fine. My fault, miss. Sorry about that. And your shoes.”
He gestured down to her feet. “I can pay for those, if you’d like. I’m sure they were expensive.” At least, they seemed that way when you looked at them. Very nice pumps. The kind his wife would’ve liked and his daughter wears now.
Colbie looked down at her feet before looking back towards him. Coffee soaked. She waved her hand. “No. Please, you don’t have to do that at all. Nothing a good cleaning won’t fix. Honest.” They had been expensive but she wasn’t about to let a stranger pay for her pricey shoe habits. And they could be cleaned no problem. Especially with a little alchemy.
A kind woman. And very pretty too. She clearly got the better end of genetics. “Well, the least I can do is treat you to lunch, surely.” The gentleman in him simply couldn’t just let her not be compensated. “As an apology from an older man who has his head in the clouds.”
He accepted his pie with a pleased smile. It wasn’t often he could indulge. He usually let his little sister do that. “Thank you. Yin? That’s a lovely name. I’m Timothy. Call me Tim.”
“Haha you think so? Chinese name for an American girl. Woohoo,” she chuckled, “How are you with nicknames? Might call you Timmy.” Actually she might call him it even if he disagrees.
“Hey, someone had to break the stereotype, right?” Tim chuckled. “I don’t get really called many nicknames. Even my 10-year-old sister just calls me Tim. But I wouldn’t mind that. Not at all.” Nicknames made him feel like a toy, ordinarily, but in this context maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Whip cream would be great. Oh wow. Thank you.
“No problem darling! Here you go,” Yin sliced a piece and topped it off quickly with whip cream. The young woman handed it over gently to the man, “Yin, by the way.”
He accepted his pie with a pleased smile. It wasn’t often he could indulge. He usually let his little sister do that. “Thank you. Yin? That’s a lovely name. I’m Timothy. Call me Tim.”
