For Scripps, Dated 12/31

[madeofstories]

Grace very distinctly remembers the events of New Years Eve one year ago.

Dressed up in clothes from another era, they all rang in the new year in a way that she can only describe as magical. And Grace's last moments of the previous year were spent with someone she didn't anticipate would be as near and dear to her heart now as he is.

This year, they've been plunged into a different place altogether, one that Grace has found equally as magical as the month has worn on. And tonight, it feels as if there is magic in the air all over again, as Grace pulls her scarf more snugly around her neck. She's waiting in Times Square, where she's supposed to be meeting Scripps tonight, but so far, she hasn't spotted him.

Perhaps she should have been a bit more specific as to which corner she'd be nearest to.

Comments

[madeofstories]

"Oh stop. You always look wonderful," she says, trying to sound reassuring. Honestly, he could have turned up in jeans and one of those hideous holiday sweaters she's seen in the shops and she would have thought the same thing.

Of course, it would have been less to do with the sweater itself than with the person wearing it.

[turnedtoproust]

He brightens at the compliment and brushes a kiss to her lips because he can and because he wants to and right now, there's nothing he'd like to do more. "Will Mini be stealing you away from me at any point this evening?" he asks, wanting to clarify what his game plan shall be. "Or do I have you all to myself?"

[madeofstories]

"I'm completely yours tonight," Grace says, because she's made absolutely sure that she won't be missed. It's not that she minds helping Mini out however she can, but she's determined to make tonight special. It's the anniversary of their first kiss, after all.

[turnedtoproust]

Strange how something as simple as a set of words can take his breath away, but Scripps is left feeling as if his heart has been rendered to stop and deigned only to beat again at the sight of Grace and her smile. "Then why are we delaying?" he wonders. "Come on, we must escape before I find myself trapped in the drama of others."

[madeofstories]

"And just where are we escaping to?" Grace asks him with a bright grin, and reaches down to thread her fingers through his. She'd considered asking him if he wanted to find somewhere a bit more private, but is surprised to hear it— or what sounds like it— from Scripps instead.

[turnedtoproust]

"Anywhere but where there are dozens of eyes upon us," he says, taking hold of her hand within his and coaxing her onwards. "It's New York City. I'm sure we can find something romantic and private. Central Park, perhaps? Times Square overlooking it all?"

[madeofstories]

"Maybe," she responds, squeezing his hand just a little, "Somewhere even more private than that? I mean, if you wanted to."

[turnedtoproust]

"A hotel?" he suggests, heart skipping a beat. There's so many parts of him nervous, but there's also a correlating excitement and he thinks that it's long past time that he's up for this -- that he goes for what he wants. It's not as if God is going to smite him for it.

[madeofstories]

"If that's okay," Grace says, and while it's been on her mind for what seems like ages now, she's still nervous to bring it up, even tonight. Mostly, because she's well aware that with Scripps, such a suggestion has the potential to not go over well at all.

[turnedtoproust]

"It's so very okay," he assures her quickly, given that he's been waiting for an appropriate chance and this seems as if the best night as any. It's significant, that's for sure. "I think I saw something rather lovely a block or two away. Might as well make the best of it for our memories' sake."

[madeofstories]

Grace presses a slightly prolonged kiss to his cheek, smiling against his skin, and when she pulls away it hasn't even begun to fade.

"Absolutely perfect," she says, and while she's trying her best to seem calm, there's a nervous energy bubbling just underneath her words, "Lead the way?"

[turnedtoproust]

He reaches out, threading his fingers through her hand in order to draw her closer to his body, aware that his heart is beating like it's been trapped in a giant steel drum. "After all the advice I've heard and all the accounts, I want this to be just us," he says. "You and me and privacy and possibly a penthouse wouldn't hurt."

[madeofstories]

"What kind of advice have you heard? What sort of accounts? From Dakin?" she asks, genuinely curious, but also attempting to take her mind off of her nerves. She's no reason to be as anxious about this as she is, but unfortunately, knowing that isn't doing much good so far.

[turnedtoproust]

"Dakin. Guy. An interminable number of social media sources," he says, which do tend to go on and on. He'd rather experience it himself and that's that. "We might need to stop for protection. I didn't exactly come prepared. I didn't want to be presumptuous."

[madeofstories]

"Can I give you a bit of advice?" Grace asks, pressing against him just a bit more, "After a year, it's okay to be a bit presumptuous, I think."

She wishes he was a bit more presumptuous sometimes, actually. Not that she's complaining.

[turnedtoproust]

"Well, then, I'll take that in hand," he promises, sliding a hand around her waist to bring her along. "Come on, before we get stopped by some wayward New York ghost. We need to find you a hotel suitable of your status and beauty."

[madeofstories]

"Maybe the Plaza?" Grace suggests, though even after a month, she's not entirely sure where it is in relation to where they currently are. But she remembers seeing it in a few of her favorite films. Barefoot in the Park comes to mind first.

If it's good enough for the Bratters, then it's definitely good enough for her.

[turnedtoproust]

"Why not?" he agrees, given that money isn't an issue and neither is the pressing need for reservations. He's grinning as he picks up the pace, never letting go of her hand as they hurry. "Maybe we could even get some room service. Champagne and strawberries?" he suggests.

[madeofstories]

Growing all the more excited by the idea of it, Grace picks up the pace as well, her grin widening. "Do you think they'll still have it?" she asks, hopeful, "Since the people here aren't really people at all?"

The idea of it is positively lovely, though, and she wishes she had though of it. Even if she doesn't need any of that to be content tonight.

[turnedtoproust]

"I think we should take whatever we like if they're not truly people at all," Scripps insists, grinning impishly as he begins to walk backwards. "I hope you won't mind me saying, but I'm nervous as fuck right now."

[madeofstories]

"Okay, then, let's talk about it," Grace says, all the more delighted by his grin and the way he's turned to face her, "Why are you so nervous?"

She doesn't mention that she is as well, but does think that it may help to clear the air a bit. At least she hopes that it will.

[turnedtoproust]

"I'm nervous because I put it off so long for religion's sake," he admits, because it's not about the fear. It's about the sacrifice. "I think maybe I've hyped it up a bit in my head, even though I know I shouldn't have. Except, then I met you and...well, it's a bit hyped again because you're so very...you."

[madeofstories]

"So what if we try not to hype it up?" she suggests, "Whatever happens, happens, and if it doesn't turn out the way we want.... then we'll just have to try it again. There's always time to practice. Unless you'd rather not, of course."

But now that they've decided to go ahead with this, she can't see any reason why they wouldn't. Available privacy permitting, of course.

[turnedtoproust]

That does solicit a bit of a grin from him. "I do rather like the notion of trying until we get it right. I mean, it's a bit determined, but I have been told that I possess a fair bit of drive," he says, giving the door to the hotel a light nudge behind him. "You won't mind if I'm terrible, at first? If I need a bit of coaching?"

[madeofstories]

"I'm going to immediately disown you and head out to seek my fortune on Broadway, if that's the case," Grace teases, leaning in to kiss him as she follows him through the doorway. She knows that Scripps isn't the type to have his ego bruised so easily, but she hopes that her comment doesn't offend.