mia wallace.
‘ i wouldn’t say it’s a bad thing. ‘ but it isn’t a good thing either. she’ll leave the latter half out of the conversation though ( it’s better off that way. ) ‘ true facts though, DADDIO. we all end up dead and buried and fuckin’ forgotten about. ‘ some earlier than others, sure … but she didn’t plan on dying any time soon. she was still intent on having her fun. she was still young. ‘ your wife sounds like a boring cunt, if you don’t mind me saying that. i know she’s ‘ya wife and all but fuck ! ‘ eyes roll dramatically, but only for effect. ‘ i ‘aint about that sophisticated life as you can probably already tell. what ‘kinda places does she like then, huh ? a wine bar? the frickin’ ritz ? jeez louise. ‘ a cheeky giggle follows —- she’s only playing … to an EXTENT. she stands by what she says though, the woman sounds dull as hell. ‘ well nick, it’s a pleasure to meet you. i’m mia. ‘
“hopefully some of us aren’t forgotten about. some of us deserve a legacy of sorts, wouldn’t you agree?” unlike previous encounters of the evening, there was a genuine curiosity in the question offered. at the woman’s exclamation, a question of morality arose. was it inappropriate of him to confess that he too shared her sentiment about his wife? absolutely. and thus, he favored the more ambivalent response. “you’re forgiven this time. it’s not as bad as it sounds, really. sometimes it’s a little stale but that’s marriage, isn’t it?” an amusement expressed befell the gentleman as an eyebrow rose, mock surprise erased hilarity at the remark. “you’re not interested in the sophisticated life? color me surprised at that. here i was thinking you were one of those malibu barbie types.” at the introduction, lips curled into the smallest of smiles. if his agreement about what his wife was had been inappropriate than his enjoyment of another female’s company would be equally (if not more) inappropriate. “the pleasure is all mine, mia.”