He felt quite smug, and attempted to wipe the look off his face before he knocked on Penelope's door. It was a very hard thing for Louis Bonaccord to do when he was particularly pleased with himself, so Penelope should be quite impressed with him if he managed to look nonchalant. It was her birthday and Louis had spent most of the time he was should have been devoting to reports this past week to plotting out her evening. Their evening.
Penelope's evening.
But he was coming to find that having your first date be a trip to New York, to
Times Square on New Year's Eve of all bloody days, managed to make it difficult to try and think of something better. Penelope had come out for his birthday and he had thoroughly enjoyed her company, but he didn't think that a wild, world cup-frantic pub was something that she would imagine for her own birthday celebrations.
In a moment of sheer genius, Louis had figured it out. He hoped so. He
believed he had, and wondered if it was the fact that he was now knocking on her front door that his confidence was wavering. This had better work. He and Adian had worked their tails off.
The front door opened and he grinned, and he cocked his head slightly as he said, "Happy birthday, Penelope. Are you ready for your trip around the world?"