[The Three Broomsticks] A thousand silhouettes [Lyall]

Lyall found himself smiling much more than he imagined he would on this blind date. Maybe Geri was right? Maybe this wasn't so bad. But then maybe this went against the odds because it couldn't just be in his imagination that the vast majority of blind dates ended horribly. This one, though... this one he was actually enjoying. The Charms professor found himself smiling more freely at realization. He immediately wanted to be in a more private place with her so she could tell him her favorite story, but he inclined his head accepting her reasoning even if he wanted to protest it a little bit.

His light blue eyes stayed on her even as she glanced down at the table and then back at him as she told her story. He was enthralled and he didn't even understand why. He found himself nodding as she explained the story, chuckling at the conclusion and then shaking his head. "Inebriation always seem to lead to some good stories, though," he said with a smile. "Not that I would know myself," he added jokingly. He was known to enjoy a single malt whiskey now and again, but he hadn't been seriously drunk for quite a few years. The last time he remembered really indulging was not one of his best moments and not one he wanted to linger on.

"Not so impressive," he said dismissively. "There were plenty of other wizards whose toys topped mine on the Christmas lists." He smiled, remembering the friendly competition that had been among him and the other wizards, fondly recalling the companionship and the satisfaction he had gotten from that job. He wondered what his life would be like if he was still there. If things weren't like what they are now. For some reason he couldn't identify, a frisson of guilt wormed through him, making his stomach churn uncomfortably.

He tried to train his thoughts to something else, tried to make the feeling go away. But it didn't. Mostly because his idiotic suggestion of sharing was totally ridiculous and he opened his mouth to protest and retract his comment. But then she said she'd go first. And his mouth clapped shut. He wanted to hear this. But some other part of him was straining to get away. But why?

Lyall nodded along with her statement of her hobbies and smiled. "Well, I like the color forest green?" he offered, trying to find some common ground. He wasn't necessarily your regular outdoorsman though. He shook his head at her as she tried to continue and a face as if she didn't have to. He was fine with the hiking comment. Wasn't he? Lyall wasn't sure what he had expected. Maybe a Ministry citation about illegal broom flying over muggle towns. Or a time where she had done something embarrassing that she didn't normally share with others. Something innocent but distant. He certainly wasn't expecting that.

Bronte had a fiancee? And a child? And she was here without either of them?

The professor looked back at her dumbly for a few moments before he realized he was staring and then hastily turned his attention to his hands, which he had in his lap, turning and twisting this way and that. "No, no. It's alright," he murmured, trying to appease her even as he knew it maybe had been too much. An unexpected, unsettling weight fell upon his chest and he suddenly didn't feel as if this blind date had been the right thing after all. Was it a date if both people were otherwise preoccupied with someone else on their mind? Lyall was sure that didn't count. Yet he was the epitome of politeness and didn't want to let her face the brunt of his unsettledness.

He understood that he was still sort of obligated to share something. It had been his idea anyway so he felt honor-bound to reciprocate. But Lyall was not as ignorantly jolly, no longer blissfully unaware that perhaps this hadn't been the best idea. Instead of commenting on her confession, he forged on with his... even though it was no where near on the same level hers had been. "Well my secret is that I once was called into questioning by the Ministry for a robbery they thought I committed. I didn't do it though," he told her with a shaky smile as he suddenly stood up, his chair scraping across the floor, teetering on its back legs for the briefest of moments before finding the floor again. "Look at the time! I really should get back. Y'know to check on Sorley. I'm going to pay real quick," he said before leaving the table quickly, as if fleeing, silently signaling that their little date was coming to an end. He spent a little longer than needed at the cash register, trying to gather himself.

When he returned to her side, standing on one side of the table, he smiled at her apologetically. "I guess I'm not very good at sharing. I'm sorry," he said quietly, trying to apologize for even that which he couldn't put into words. "Would you like me to walk you back to the school?"

Bronte Barrett-Awning, possibly future Bronte Thorne, had just dug herself a grave, thrown herself into it, and began to rebury herself again. Perhaps it was more of a desire to remain completely honest with him, an underlying desire for a healthy "relationship", than thinking it was some bit of useful information he should have on hand. No matter the reason, Bronte found herself scrambling to come up with something else that might be able to possible redeem the situation or lighten the mood. She could see him recoiling, a light of alarm burning behind his eyes. She had just put the nail in the coffin of a blind date that should have probably gone better, but was essentially doomed from the start. Her life had, without a doubt, began to come aground. She needed to get better at keeping things happy and not spouting off stupidity. Perhaps there was some little trinket out there, like a remembrall, that could stop her from doing things that would be bad for the existence of good friendships and other connections.

Bronte followed him with her eyes, which were dark and slightly sad, as he stood up and made his way to the front cashier. She felt as though if she moved a limb, they would crack and spider and shatter into little pieces like porcelain. She managed to keep a half-smile frozen to her face, and when he returned, she pulled herself out of her thoughts long enough insist that she didn't need him to wait for her. Instead, she brushed it off and kept her pride intact by insisting that she would like to stay, instead, to finish her tea. She knew that she wouldn't bring herself to even touch the cup though. Instead, she'd sit here staring off into nowhere, knowing exactly where she went wrong.

With a smile, she thought about standing up to bid farewell, wasn't sure if she should offer a hug, a cheek kiss, a hand shake... In honesty, she felt more comfortable staying right where she was. She had made Lyall squirm enough for one day, and she wanted to just let him on his way. In an effort to bring closure to the situation, she laughed slightly, more at herself and her own ridiculousness than anything else, and looked away from Lyall just slightly. "Thanks for the tea."

But perhaps she was being a tad dramatic. She still wasn't entirely sure that he was taking this whole thing seriously, so perhaps he really did have to run off, or just couldn't handle the strife of others. Perhaps her own situation had made him be reminded of the love that he had lost. She forced a smile in response to his offer, and shook her head slowly, taking a breath in after a moment. "No, that's alright." She said, looking down at her tea and smiling again. "I think I might finish up my tea..." She fought with herself mentally to try to find some way to make fun of herself or something to joke about at all, in hopes that it would lighten the mood, but came up with nothing. Waving her hand in response, she breathed an uncomfortable laugh. "Don't worry about it." She fought the urge to apologize herself, but then hesitated out of discomfort. Somehow, she wanted it all to be fixed or over.

This was awkward. Embarrassing. He felt foolish and... guilty.

Lyall had seen a change in her, a flicker of something in her eyes, but it was gone before he could get a clear read on it. And on top of that, he wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do about it. Her. Them. He felt like someone should slap him just to make his mind make sense again. That or cast an the opposite of a Confundus charm. Was there such thing? There should be, Lyall decided.

His idle thoughts though didn't really distract him from the situation at hand. He was still running away and even though he had offered to walk her back to the school, he felt a surge of relief when she didn't take him up on the offer. He was still reeling from the news she had dropped on him. The fact that she had a fiancee. And the fact that he was on a date with someone who was otherwise engaged. And what that meant for him.. or her... or them. Scratch the 'them', he thought. There was no 'them'.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as they both tried to wrap it up nicely, words seeming to fail them both. Or at least didn't make it less awkward. Dammit, he thought. This was all his fault. He tried to smile at her again and nodded when she said she was just going to finish her tea. "It was very lovely," he said, the urge to be polite won out over everything else. He stood there for a few more moments and as the silence stretched between them, Lyall fought for something else to say. Perhaps something that would ease the awkwardness that he had created.

At last, he came up with nothing so he sighed ever so slightly and glanced down at his shoes, his fingers playing with one button on his vest. He made eye contact her for a moment and said "I'll see you around," as casually as he could. Then with a nod of his head, he turned and walked out. As he pushed open the door, he glanced over his shoulder at her and paused, before continuing out the door.