Woso Imagines

The Museum

"I wouldn't mind being called yours, but for now you can call me Lia." The woman doesn't seem uncomfortable by your advances, in fact she embraces them, teasing smile telling you that she found it amusing how worried you got over a simple pickup line.

"Lia, a beautiful name for an even more gorgeous girl." She gains her pink tint back, the compliment likely the cause of her blush. It wasn't like she never got complimented, it was just the attractive zing your accent put over the words that made them feel more sincere.

"And how about you? A name attached to that pretty face?" Now it was your turn to blush at the other woman's words, her lips splitting into a full toothed smile.

"Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n." You imitate Bond to introduce yourself, sticking your hand out for her to take, a firm handshake and the tip of an imaginary hat letting her know who exactly it is you are.

"Good to know my future last name." She winks at you and the blush that's already covering your face deepens significantly. The insinuation that you were to marry the girl beside you too much for your poor little heart to take.

She starts to walk away from you and towards another section of the room, looking back over her shoulder when she realizes that you weren't right beside her, walking. Waving her hand in a "come here" motion, you quickly catch up with the older woman.

"So, why skittles? Is there not any other sweet you'd rather have?" She asks as you match her slow rhythm of steps, your hands shoved in the pockets of your coat with your arms forming loops. Lia threads one of her arms through yours, leaning her head on your shoulder, standing still all of a sudden to look at a painting. It didn't feel like you'd just met, like you'd just introduced yourselves to one another, it felt like you'd known each other for decades, easily slipping into being comfortable with each other.

You gaze at her as she looks at the painting, making sure to map out all her gorgeous features and commit them to memory. She was like a breath of fresh air in a world of polluted oxygen.

"First of all it's called candy, not sweets, candy. Secondly, they're amazing for when you want to stop smoking." Her cheek smushes against your shoulder as she turns her head to look up at you, her eyebrows scrunched together adorably.

"You were a smoker?" You feel the strong urge to place a peck atop her lips, soft and warm against your own. But in the end you resist, you'd only just met the woman for god's sake, you don't want to make her uncomfortable. Her eyes hold so many emotions that you just can't read.

"Yeah, only for about a year. My ex stressed me out so much that I felt it was the easiest way to deal with it. But when she broke up with me, I decided to get my life back together, moved here, got a job at a bar and that's it. That's why I'm here." Lia listens intensively at the story you're telling her, the way she looks at you suggests that she's hanging off your every last syllable.

"So no more smoking at all for you?" You puff your chest up, proudly displaying the grin on your face and your now discolored tongue. Lia looks on in amusement at your actions, a grin that could light up an opera house on her face.

"Nope, I'm never picking up a cigarette again." The amusement turns into a sort of profound proud feeling, a feeling that she definitely shouldn't be feeling for what is practically a stranger. A stranger that in the matter of a mere hour had worked their way into her heart and made themselves home.

"Good, I'm really happy for you." The softened look on Lia's face makes you blush, it was the way most people looked at their loved ones. You couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to be one of her loved ones, how it would feel to see her first thing in the morning, to gaze into her tentative eyes and try to read her like a book just because you know exactly how it is she acts, how she feels at that exact moment, what she thinks.