sixwordstories | (no subject)

Why red though? My signature colors have always been green, and yellow. Well, since I was little anyway.

[Dryly]

Yes. I get that a lot.

Is that so. Have you tried it? Your lips are a lovely shade of pale, and the red would accent them nicely. Not a lot of it, mind. A touch, here or there.

Nothing flashy, like Venetian, or crimson. I don't think a deep burgundy, either.

I was thinking more along the lines of Persian red. With pale cream accents.

[She cocked her head to one side, then laughed softly to herself as she gave it a mulling over.]

Hm, well no. I mean, between one job, and the other I don't get much chance to play with wardrobe. One I am playing in the dirt, the other I am dancing with fire. Between them, I usually just dress down in some flannel, or cotton and a pair of shorts or jeans. The most I splurge on is shoes, I have to have myself some nice shoes. [She laughed again and shook her head softly. Her mane of red curls falling down around her cheeks, and shoulders.]

That's nothing if not specific.

What is it they say? You're man who knows what he likes but not what is art? Or perhaps I'm mixing my metaphors as heinously as a I mix my drinks.

[He gives an open armed shrug and a slight cock of his own head, a sharp grin meeting her laugh.]

Who ever said clothing has to be expensive, to look nice? A red and golden yellow flannel with a pair of old jeans. Try it. You might surprise yourself.

You disagree, then. More of a cool colors man, are you?

[That made her laugh outright, a warm smile following right after.]

Everyone at the farm will think I am trying to dress to impress or something. I'll never hear the end of it! They already think I have a crush on the Fed-ex guy as it is...if I wear a 'new' wardrobe all of a sudden? Well, they'll think I am trying to settle down, and have his babies or some such nonsense!

Oh, you know, honey, anything looks good on me. It's a curse.

Mighty claim you make, there.

[He might be looking Gabe over, but it's not an appreciative glance.]

I suppose you have the form to pull most of it off. Do you have the style?

Well, God has to give me something to compensate for my lack of substance.

Good he gave you something that doesn't require much thought then. That was considerate of him.

You allow their opinions to define your life choices, do you?

No, I never said that. I just don't wish to cause such a big stir at my place of business. I am there to work, and run my business. However relaxed it may be, I don't need them to gossip about me, or my intentions. That is not the type of environment I wish to foster.

Oh, I know.

I feel bad for guys like you. You must have to think all the time.

That is quite a number of considerations for a simple change in wardrobe. Are all your decisions quite so fraught with variables and obstacles?

Oh, Constantly. My work never ends, you know. Luckily it seems to come easily to me.

Not so much that, it is more the gossip machine that I have to worry about. I am the boss, though I don't really act like it all that much. I still don't need them all flapping their jaws about who or what I am doing with my time, and if I am practicing gymnastics of an intimate kind and with people that I am meant to keep a professional relationship with. I want to keep some standards.

My red is all in the wash. [And she sounds a bit peeved about it.]

And what's your "work"?