When Anger Arises, Think of the Consequences [Marschal Leigh]

His knuckles clunked against the wooden door as he knocked on the entryway to his "date's" home, waiting for an answer. He could hear, within the depths of the house, the thumping of feet as they frantically ran about the wooden floorboards. She sounded busy either trying to primp herself for the visit of her "boyfriend" or rushing down to come greet him. Whatever it was that had her running about like a chicken with its head cut off, the man stood waiting at the door. Eventually, he heard what sounded like feet descending a staircase, then the clicking of locks as they unbolted from their place. Soon enough, he was standing in front of a short, curvaceous woman, dressed in a lovely, black gown. Well, it wasn't so much a gown as it was a simple party dress, hugging tightly at the curves of her youthful bodice.

Pretty, brown hair curled around her face, accentuating it and giving vibrancy to the light green irises of her features. A headband with dangling flowers wove through her hair on each side of her head, filled with beads and pieces of fabric. Marschal found himself unable to take his eyes off of her, even blushing a little at the thought of being caught. It was a good thing that his client had given him a changing lacrima that allowed him to take on his appearance. The woman had giggled, seemingly noticing how he had blushed from the mere sight of the beautiful lady.

"You must be really excited about our date if you're already blushing that deeply of a red," she exclaimed with laughter. "Please, Henry, come inside while I finish getting ready; I'd hate to keep you waiting outside for me to finish."

Marschal swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded in open-mouthed silence, stepping inside of the home the moment she offered. The inside of the house, itself, was just as beautiful as the woman living inside of it; neatly decorated with a bit of simplicity. His eyes darted away from the decor of the home when he noticed that the woman was walking ahead of him and turned down a hallway. He scooted along after her, making sure to keep pace with her, so as not to get lost in the magnificence of the home.

"This is the common room, so feel free to take a seat and wait for me here while I finish getting ready for our date," she said. "I'm hoping that this date will at least be exemplary; I'd hate for it to be a bust since I know you like me a lot." With that being said, the woman turned away as she was putting an earring in and headed back the way they had come.

As she disappeared around the corner, Marschal sighed and sat down in one of the cream-colored chairs. He crossed one leg over the other and bounced his foot lightly, his arms resting on the chair's arms as per norm. His head was lowered a bit, the white hair of his fluffed at all sides, so that it looked like a lion's mane had formed around his head. Starring at the scars that ran over his body, he waited for Ellie to come back from whatever it was that women did to get ready. Seriously, why did it take hours upon hours for a single woman to get ready for something he barely cared about? She didn't even seem interested in this guy anyway, and he sort of felt like it was going to end up in a bust. In fact, he was already struggling to keep himself from finding her attractive, already excited even looking at her.

What seemed like hours had passed by was only a few short minutes before Hannah had returned from getting ready. She leaned against the doorway, looking him up and down, giving him a bit of a smile and crossing her arms under her chest. "So, are we ready to go?" she inquired, pressing off of the wall and turning away to head back the way she had come.

Marschal snapped out of his reverie and jumped to his feet, trailing after her until he was able to catch up. When he was close enough behind her, he snagged a hand around her waist and pulled her close to him with a smirk. "Did I ever tell you that of all your beautiful curves, your smile is my favorite?" he questioned, never not smiling. He watched as a blush washed over her cheeks and she abruptly looked away from them as they exited her house.

Their date today was just a simple walk through town, nothing minor and nothing over the top, like a romantic date. He needed to woo the girl, not overwhelm her with things that he knew very few girls were actually impressed by. Instead, he kept his hand woven around her waist and keeping her close while they entered the town's premises. People bustled by, but the streets were rather empty, like they knew the two of them were going on a date. Nothing was bothersome to her or him, so it was nice to simply take a walk through the town and talk with each other. However, as they were walking, Marschal continued to find that he could not keep his eyes off of her no matter what. His feet stumbled a little and a few times, he almost bumped into people that were passing by the couple.

Hannah was giggling hysterically at the clumsiness he was displaying next to her, covering her mouth a little with her hand. "You should really be careful, Henry; I'd hate for you to fall down and hurt yourself," she stated in a now worried tone.

"Well, I can't help it, Hannah, you're just so beautiful, that you're distracting me!" Marschal proclaimed to her. Her eyes grew wide and the blush on her face deepened to what looked like a cherry-red as she looked away. Marschal chuckled at her embarrassment and he squeezed lightly around her waist in a comforting manner.

Yet as the two were walking, it was apparent that Mother Nature was out to get them, to either ruin their date or prove him. Another young man had passed by them and ended up catcalling Hannah, resulting in Marschal stopping them and turning to face the man.

"Hey!" he shouted at the guy, "don't be objectifying this lovely woman! You come over here and apologize to her."

"Ha! Please, a pretty kitten like her should be catcalled all the time with the way she dresses," the man returned.

"This is why woman don't like men as much as we think we do. We have imbeciles like you who objectify women. Ever think about, sir?" Marschal inquired before continuing on, "after all, it might explain why a jock like you is single."

"Henry. . ." Hannah broke in.

"No, Hannah, I got this, it's okay. He shouldn't be objectifying you like that when you two aren't even together," Marschal stated. By now, his hands were stuffed into his jean pockets and he was giving her a small smile, then looking back at the man.

He cocked an eyebrow and waited to see if the guy would answer, but no answer came from the now thoughtful guy. "So, I take it you understand now, why women don't like you? If you didn't catcall them all the time, you'd probably have a girlfriend. C'mon Hannah, let's go." With that being said, he wrapped his arm around his girl's waist again and pulled her along, taking her away from the douche bag. "I'm sorry that he did that to you; in all honesty, I'm a bit disgusted by my own sex and how they objectify women. After all, women should be treated how they wanted to be treated, with the love and respect that they deserve."

"Thank you, Henry," she answered him, snuggling closer to him as they traipsed through the town, hand in hand. Not literally, considering he now had his arm wrapped around her shoulders and holding her close to him.

"Also, I know somebody who likes you, but if I wasn't so shy, I'd tell you who," Marschal teased her a bit.

This caused Hannah to blush again and look away, mostly to hide the blush that was visible on her pale skin.

"You really need to stop looking away from me so much, Hannah. I get that I'm handsome, but I didn't know I could turn heads!" he exclaimed. Of course, he was only joking, which caused the young lady to laugh really loudly, even snort a little at the thought. This caused her to cover her mouth and start laughing more, a little more uncontrollably for the past few minutes. While this was happening, however, it was apparent that Henry's mother was walking toward them down the street. She had spotted them not long ago and was now waving them down, which cause "Henry" to roll his eyes and sigh.

"Henry, my little baby boy, how are you?" she questioned, giving him a bright smile and even pulling him into a hug, giving his cheeks kisses.

"I'm fine, Mother; how are you?" Marschal returned in what was meant to be the most undeniably perfect response. Hannah stood awkwardly off to the side, but Marschal managed to pull her close to him and introduce her to his mother. "Hannah, this my mother, Cynthia; Mother, this is Hannah, the girl I'm currently on a date with."

"Oh, well, isn't that just wonderful!" his "mother" cheered, clapping her hands together a little bit, the basket on her arm swinging some. "In that case, I'll let you two continue with your date; I expect you home by late evening for dinner with your father and me." She gave Marschal another peck on the cheek, then went on her dandy way through the town and back to her destination.

A heavy blush caressed Marschal's face and he looked down at the ground, walking with Hannah in awkward silence.

"Are you okay, Henry?" Hannah inquired after a few minutes had passed with no talk between the two of them.

"Yeah, I'm all right. I was just a bit embarrassed by my mother," he answered her with a shrug to follow after. "I hope that you've enjoyed the date thus far, but like my mother said, she wants me home by late evening and it's getting pretty close to that. But what time do you have to be back in Heaven? Because if you don't mind, I'd like to take you back to my house for dinner with my parents."

"Uh. . . uhm. . ." Hannah stuttered, trying to prevent herself from blushing yet again with the man's abrasiveness. "I don't have to be back home for a while; so if you'd like to take me to your parents house, I'd be more than welcome."

"Then let's go, hm?" Marschal stated, walking her in the direction that would lead her to Henry's house.