The vampire diaries 6x5 online dating
She talked about decorating for the Fall Fling, told an amusing story about how, while trying to disentangle the colored spotlights for the Fling, sheʼd ended up caught in the rafters, and finished up with a genuinely funny joke that wasnʼt dirty or a putdown of any culture, race or sex. He hadnʼt realized he hadnʼt been in love before: only infatuated. Shaking his head at himself, he twisted the wallet sideways so as to expose the secret compartment and felt in it. And felt frantically in it and around it, managing to almost turn the wallet inside out.
Of course anybody could become infatuated with Elena, the way that bees were drawn to flowers. Her laugh wasnʼt shrill; it wasnʼt sharp; it was as melodious as a brook winding its way in and out of a forest glade. At last he had to let the words surface in his brain.
Matt would have laughed himself sick if Uncle Joe had told him what heʼd be spending the precious money on. At school those lips were always in a modelʼs slight pout, as if to say “Well, really! And now, with Uncle Joeʼs hundred-dollar bill, he was going to take Elena Gilbert on a real date, to a real French restaurant: a date that sheʼd never forget. ” She spoke without even seeming to see—or smell—anything unusual about the vehicle. And the laughter was warm and genuine and like a soothing balm to all Mattʼs senses. “Youʼre just full of surprises,” Elena said, and to his surprise, she slipped a slender, cool hand in his. It was simply like lightning flowing up from her cool fingers into his palm and up his arm and then on upward until it fried his brain with a million volts. ” Matt hadnʼt even realized that there was any bread. Now he broke off a hunk and spread it lavishly with butter, suddenly remembering that he hadnʼt eaten any lunch. “Itʼs one of the four food groups,” he informed her earnestly, hoping she wouldnʼt think he was crazy.. “I donʼt think,” she said, “that anybody could stay mad at you for long.” Matt didnʼt know what to say. All those losers who only want to go on dates with her because of her looks, are just missing the whole damn ballgame. the worldʼs perfect person: smart, and witty, and fun, and . “Were Monsieur et Mademoiselle zinking of ordering at zis point? “I guess itʼs about time to look at our menus,” Elena said, putting her hand over her mouth to not-quite hide a giggle. She looked at him over her curled-up hand and then they were both laughing hysterically, fighting for air. “Oh, well,” Elena raised her eyebrows indifferently. Waiting is what heʼs paid to do.” This was the first time Matt had seen the ʻIce princess” side of Elena Gilbert, and he didnʼt know what he thought about it. “By all means,” Elena said in a mock-19th century gracious manner, and they opened the menus. Well, heʼd just have to drink regular water from now on, and hope that maybe Elena didnʼt want both an appetizer and a dessert. There was something about Elena—as if she were sparkling at the edges—that heʼd never seen in a girl before. Then he looked up to find her smiling into his eyes again. And then Elena and Matt could laugh as hysterically as they wanted, which was quite a bit. ” and scarcely waiting for her gracious nod, he hurried off in the direction of the bar to find a restroom. Matt went in and took a stall, pulled his wallet out and began to calculate frantically. Now, if she had, say the chicken and wild mushroom piccatta—he felt he had the menu memorized by now—that would be . Nothing, His other money was there; he hadnʼt been robbed, but .
At just-sixteen young Mattʼs thoughts about girls and cooties had not entirely separated. just thinking her name made him feel as if were bathed in sunlight. With that marvelous golden hair that floated halfway down her back, with her skin, the color of apple blossoms, even after tanning season, with her eyes like luminous, gold-flecked blue pools, and her lips . It was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Elena watched him in amusement over a glass of sparkling water. Sure, sheʼs a knock-out, but more important, sheʼs like . “Weʼll be ready in a few minutes,” Matt said, in his most princely dismissive tones. But, he figured, if Elena were really perfect, she wouldnʼt be human. Lee had a right to have an attitude like that, Elena Gilbert was that person. Despite all his preparation, the prices still took Mattʼs breath away. But if Elena ordered a steak, he could have the chicken, which was only . The entrees came with vegetables, but there was also the appetizer to consider. It was as if light constantly danced around her, as if sometime she might just disappear into the light. “Well, I had an old Labrador Retriever,” he said, slowly, “but she got cancer and—well that was about six months ago.” “Oh, Matt! Matt only calmed down when he remembered he probably should have gotten the white rose, to go with Elenaʼs outfit. But Elena was still laughing, “Meredith would have taken her to pieces,” Elena gasped finally. And then he could have the salmon cakes appetizer, which was only .
And then he was looking at a thin, rather plain woman, who gave him a bright smile and said, “You must be Elenaʼs new date. Matt had heard of something so stunning it knocked your eyes out, but heʼd never imagined that heʼd actually see something like that metaphor in the flesh. The bottom of the dress was layers and layers of some see- through material—chiffon? I know itʼs for kids, but itʼs really exciting to run and run and suddenly feel the wind bite. He loved to look at her when her cheeks flamed and her blue eyes took fire. ” Elena whispered as Matt frantically calculated the tips for waiter and valet. ” he whispered back, and again they broke out into laughter together. Matt could only hope that his own relieved grin was as free of goo. ” Elena said, then, looking him deeply in the eyes. The dessert was wonderful, but more wonderful was the look in Elenaʼs eyes every time Matt looked up.
Blowing over one hundred dollars in one night with Elena Gilbert. Elena talked without chattering, and without leaving any awkward pauses when he had to gulp in air. Then Iʼll recover in time for dessert or something. “Get back out there and entertain yer girl,” he swore he could hear Uncle Joe saying, while at the same time the feeling of a boot to the backside seemed to come from his back pocket. The only problem was that it made him need to take a look at the hundred- dollar bill, to touch it for good luck, and to gaze at it for comfort. She sent out pheromones; she conformed with the perfect image of the perfect girl that was somehow woven into every Caucasian boyʼs genes, or else that was propagandized into them by the time they were three years old. Wow, check it out, that was almost poetry, Matt thought. ” In all his years of playing football, nobody had ever asked him this. Elenaʼs beauty was perfect, absolutely without flaw. Should he tell her heʼd written a whole long real poem about her at home? Tell me how it feels when you win a game out there, with everyone screaming and cheering.” “Um. ”Well—” There was something wrong with him; he was going to be honest. Honeycutt, small and round and smelling of cookies, came at almost a run down the hall. Make a flowery speech in front of three of the harshest critics on guys that humankind had ever produced? Matt cleared his throat, choked, and felt a sharp slap from behind. He opened his mouth with no idea of what was going to say. At last Caroline shook back her bronze hair and said, “I suppose you had it all made up before. Or that other guy on the football team— whatʼshisname—“ “No, they didnʼt,” Matt said, getting his courage from two places: his back pocket, and his long association with Caroline Forbes. Oh crap, now Iʼm getting really sentimental, Matt thought. And from what heʼd heard, Elena wasnʼt too holy, either, but she sure looked like an angel. ” Elena asked, her finger tracing a tiny flaw in the tablecloth. When youʼre part of it—and itʼs just you out there feeling the air and the ground—itʼs sort of—physical, you know? I donʼt like all the injuries, and I donʼt like most jocks. But somehow he made himself look mock-stern and waved a finger back at her. The gypsy added quickly, “And of course it comes with a love fortune—for each of you.” Elena was opening her mouth, and Matt could tell that she was going to send the flower seller away. ” and she shut her mouth, and looked a little sober for a moment before smiling. He knew he couldnʼt laugh, either roaring or giggling—but he almost couldnʼt hold it in. Not now, while the gypsy lady was poring over their out-thrust palms, going, “Hmm,” and “I zee,” and “But yez, of course,” in a fake French accent. There was a rumor that Elena Gilbert never went out if she didnʼt pay half. Most of his buddies were practically broke in autumn—besides it was a half hour drive for them. It was after —no wonder that waiter was so mad—and his mom would be asleep by now. ” Matt gave a mock-groan and then stood, genuinely blushing, as she looked him over. Try to make it flowery, too; they like that.” Flowery? Please let me steal this flower rare—to watch her with devoted care, I need to beg your kind approval Before I risk her quick removal.”" There was a profound silence. Somehow in his excitement he had picked up Elenaʼs hand and was squeezing it. He felt himself flushing and he was just going to put it back where heʼd got it, when Elena squeezed his fingers warmly and then took it back herself. “Well, thereʼs—thereʼs something”—he had to break eye contact with her to say this—“thereʼs something sort of physical about driving a car that lets you feel every bump in the road. But he left me his football instincts.” Matt made himself laugh. His heart was soaring in twelve different directions at once. yeah, thatʼs about the size of it.” Matt couldnʼt help but laugh, and then he told the story about how one year Britches had put her paws on the counter and picked up a half- eaten Thanksgiving turkey in her mouth and wandered into the family room holding it up like a trophy. She laughed as the waiter made up a Caesarʼs salad beside their table too, and told a story about Snowball, who loved to sleep in boxes or in open drawers, and who had been accidentally shut inside one when she was a kitten. ” and a waving away of the Fresh Ground Pepper Shaker, as if sheʼd done this all her life. And only fourteen dollars.” She must have seen Mattʼs look of shock—the single rose heʼd bought at the floristʼs had been only five dollars. Finally he had to admit that nothing else but the bare fact mattered. And the terrible thing was that it hadnʼt had to happen this way. Oh, God, she wouldnʼt speak to him for the rest of his life.