No one to help. The words stuck in her head. Mohinder truly was a good person, the rare sort you simply didn’t find anymore, and she was more appreciative of it than she realized. He was like a unicorn and she’d been lucky enough to have decide it wanted to help her. And here they were, simply playing video games because he’d wanted to help her relax, to not focus on the necessary evil of blood taking. Whether or not they actually developed the skills he mentioned–though she had no reason to not believe him–it’d been entirely enjoyable and she wouldn’t have considered any time spent with him a waste.
He was…comfortable. Even though they’d only spent a few short hours together, Claire didn’t feel the need to hide from him. Perhaps it was the very nature of her reason for being there, but with that skeleton out of the closet, she was relaxed. Granted, her profession wasn’t something she was about to pour out, but that wasn’t as much a part of her as her berserker, her family curse. She couldn’t choose the latter.
“Tradition?” she parroted, not quite hiding the disbelieving smile that spread across her face. Though she didn’t know anything about games, she was fairly certain there were no dinner rules that went along with them. But she would play along; it’d been amusing so far, there was no reason to quit now.
“Well, that sounds fair,” Claire added, mind immediately going through the list of nearby restaurants she was familiar with. All of them were either sleazy dumps she used for work, or high class places that had a dress code, neither of which were appropriate for a simple dinner with a friend. Friend. What a term. “Though…perhaps you should choose the restaurant? I can’t say as I know many places around here to pick.” Mostly, she was unsure of the kind of money he had to spend and the atmosphere he was going for; passing the decision to him, Claire hoped those issues would resolve themselves. Luckily his face was turned away, occupied with the television, so he likely didn’t see the uncertain, brief expression that crossed her face.
The more she thought about it, the more it sounded…like a date. Was that entirely appropriate? Did she care either way? The small bit of her that she’d been fighting with since she got here told her there was a line, and that was crossing it, making things personal when they didn’t have to be. Even though they had been already.How many times had she cast sidelong glances at him already? Between that, the apron incident, flaunting her underthings, and his gentle touch during and after taking her blood, something was off to a quick start. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, smiling up at Mohinder and leaning forward, elbows on her knees.
“I have had a craving for Chinese lately, though…”