If there were to be a top five list of things Liz Thompson was pretty damn great at, number five would be blowing really big bubblegum bubbles and not get it caught in her hair or eyelashes. Number four was definitely always managing to spot the shortest line in a grocery store, or the gas station. Number three, parallel parking, number two her rather extensive knowledge on linguistics (she's majoring in it, after all). Number one. Her impeccable ability of taking boy's virginities.

Seriously.

"He's tasty," Liz says, hm'ing appreciatively, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger.

She's been on this topic for a week, give a couple of days, maybe. This topic, this boy, this new boy. New to school, and new to the top of her to do list.

"Do you even know his name?"

"It's like, Kid, or something. I think he's new?"

Soul startles, barking out a sharp laugh, showing a curve of sharp teeth,

"Dude, Liz, I think he's seventeen. Not cool." He looks lazily amused, but with a biting undertone. The entirety of their friendship is full of loving, scathing remarks and remembering to grab the other's shoes while they are stumbling out of a stranger's house at eight am, still wasted.

To her credit, she still has enough decency left to startle herself, even if it's just a little.

"No way," She says, shaking her head, "I saw him walking out of another Third Year Japanese class." She pauses, thoughtful, "And he's really tall."

Snorting, Soul kicks back his chair, leaning it back on two legs as he pushes his feet up against the edge of their dining room table. Liz thinks he's going to fall, she knows he is going to fall. Just like she knows this new information is not going to deter her; he's like, probably not seventeen, eighteen most likely. Or really close to it. He did look young, now that she considers it, but it hadn't been too glaringly obvious in light of his quiet, serious face and low voice, void of much inflection. Or the sophisticated, peculiar way that he dressed. Literal definition of young adult.

But his bright eyes, and the way his cold hands fumble when she sits and talks with him; how embarrassed he gets if she touches his knee, or the back of his hand.

That's just too precious to give up on.

"Some sorta rich genius," Soul replies, shrugging. He nearly loses his balance then, not paying attention and Liz distractedly attempts to steady him, reaching out. She can't help but think about how that makes him even more desirable; rich boys have never been taught how to be grateful for anything, and who is she to deny them that lesson?

There's one table in the perfect corner at the cafe, right by the window and that's how the shop got it's name, The Perfect Corner. Measurements, symmetry and all. It's the exact place he always sits, whenever he's there and Liz wonders how he manages to always get it for himself.

Not that Liz is shy about joining him when the mood strikes her, and the mood almost always strikes her. He just looks so good sitting there, smartly suited and impeccably clean. Handsome as hell. Even if he is younger then she thought, he doesn't carry any of the usual youthful traits. Well mannered from his upbringing, so she's assumes, he is the perfect gentleman down to even his vocabulary.

It's the middle of week two of their tentative - Liz is sure he would refer to it as acquaintance - when she finds him sitting there on her lunch break. It's Saturday, but he appears to be studying. And unlike the few girls in the shop, all giggles and sneaky glances she heads right for his table after she's grabbed her smoothie. It's nice out, just starting to get cooler out but she wore shorts anyway with her hoodie. She's cute, and she knows got more balls than any of these girls who call her a slut because she knows what she wants and chooses to go for it.

Which is why she sits down and smiles, friendly and just the slightest bit flirty.

"Kid," she drawls, pouting her lower lip as she takes a sip from her drink. He doesn't seem to notice, glances up quickly and smiles before apparently finishing whatever he was in the middle of writing before looking at her properly.

"Hello, Liz," he greets, closing his notebook. He isn't nervous anymore, not like the first couple of days where he was uncertain whether she was really trying to be his friend or cheat off him. She had shoved him a little at that, saying that just because she was a catch didn't mean she was a slacker and he had profusely apologized for unintentionally offending her.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," she deadpans, and he cracks half of a smile, like he's pleased he understood the reference. She continues, though, because today when she saw him looking incredibly handsome and gloomy, she decided today was part two of her foolproof method. "No, really, like I'm pretty sure you exist out of this place, and class, and hey look, so do I. Magic, right? We should maybe exist together somewhere else one day."

Liz prides herself in her ability to flirt. Always just the right amount of insinuating, never too strong or too vague, no obvious touching just enough to make them wonder. For a guy like Kid, though, she is learning she has to be more straightforward in order to decipher whether he understands she is flirting or if he's just ignoring her advances.

"Oh?" He pauses afterward, looking calculating. "I'm not quite sure I understand."

"Sure you do," she presses, learning toward him just enough for her body language to be more open, encouraging as she reaches forward to pinch at the thin skin of his wrist; he twitches and drops his gaze to where Liz is now scratching lightly with her manicured nails. "You're not going to make a lady say it now are you?" She's teasing, blinking blue eyes up at him from under her lashes coyly, but Kid still seems to be confused, if not the tiniest bit uncomfortable. Still, she urges, playful, "When a girl meets a boy…"

"Ah, like," and he stammers then, just briefly, and there it is, the light flushing of his cheeks as she tugs at the hem of his sleeve before removing her hand, "Like a date."

She's glad he's just inexperienced, and not an idiot.

"Precisely like a date," she agrees pulling one of her legs up to sit more comfortably in the couch like seat. If his eyes glanced at the now more exposed expanse of her thigh, she would never have known by how he's now staring hard down at his books, purposefully avoiding her own gaze.

"I don't know," he answers eventually, expression becoming more and more uncertain as the seconds pass, "I've never - "

"Been on a date?" She interrupts, disbelieving.

"No!" He responds, defensive and glaring, finally lifting his eyes up to meet hers, "Of course I have. Just not with someone quite so…experienced."

If it were any other man Liz would have popped him one in the jaw, for she would have been sure they would be implying she was a hoe. But for all intents and purposes, Kid really seems like he is trying to be polite and sincere, his own insecurity obvious, like he isn't positive he's using the right words. Liz loves it; loves how unsure he is, like he's afraid of saying the wrong thing, like he doesn't know if she would be deterred by his lack of expertise in the opposite sex.

"Don't even worry about that," she says, smirking slightly, "I'll teach you how to take out a real lady." She can almost smell his resolve wavering, like a predator catching scent of prey. Underneath all of his inexperience and manners there is just a typical boy, he just needs more convincing then most; she can't wait to exploit it.

"I," he begins to protest, weakly, but Liz shakes her head.

"Tuesday night," she says, leaning over to scribble down her number on the corner of his notebook, "text me later and we'll make a plan."

As she's leaving she sends him a dazzling smile and waves her fingers coyly, pleased that he's still staring after her dumbfounded and blushing even as she rounds the corner.

The first date goes exceedingly well, despite his reserved distance. Liz finds herself genuinely enjoying their conversation, so much so that she doesn't even notice she forgot to kiss him goodbye until she's sitting down with Soul to start a movie and he asks her how it went. Huh, she thinks, next time.

Three weeks into their - well. Liz doesn't really know what to call it. She doesn't do relationships, that's for sure, that's why she's earned quite the title. But Kid insists on taking her out to nice places; fancy restaurants or weird, rich people activities like wine tastings or bizarre museums. She always has to doll herself up and he never lets her meet him someplace, always comes to pick her up. And truthfully, she would be way more embarrassed about the chauffeur if it didn't provide an easy DD or if it was like, Kid's dad or something. Ugh. That would make her an even bigger pervert, even more than she already kinda feels. Kid is turning out to be more of a challenge than she expected.

So, three weeks of whatever, and she wants to use the word fun, because truthfully she is enjoying getting to do all these strange things she's never thought of herself ever doing and Kid - who IS eighteen - is actually very nice company, his slight OCD and neurosis included. But Liz's other idea of fun is hot and sweaty and naked and there has been absolutely NONE of that. They haven't even like. Held hands really. Which granted, Liz is grateful for because Soul told her a couple of nights ago he overheard some senior girls asking Black Star if Liz was dating - she had promptly made a face at that word - Kid.

Having people thinking that was seriously uncool, like Soul would say, and Liz decided she needed to take charge and ensure that their acquaintance - that is apparently public knowledge - is no longer presumed as Liz "settling down" but still her up to her habit of eating boys. She needs them to think she's just keeping him around as the leftovers of a really good meal.

After ranting to her roommate about it for two days- since he informed her of the terrible news, imagine her surprise when one night after dinner when she asks - as she frequently does despite how he always declines - if Kid would like to come in, he says yes, and only after the shortest of pauses. Finally, Liz thinks, smug and gleeful as they climb out of the car and Kid motions for his driver to not wait, finally we are getting somewhere. She entertains the idea that maybe Kid isn't as much of a prude as he seems and that he's not completely unaffected by how her legs look in the little black dress and strappy heels she's wearing. She's still feeling encouraged when he boldly settles a hand on her lower back as she unlocks her door, staying close as they walk inside.

Third time's a charm, she cheers inwardly, leading him further into the apartment.

"Soul," she starts as they enter the living room where her roommate is playing video games on the couch, "go dweeb out somewhere else, I heard Maka is at Tsubaki's tonight, and she's freshly single. That means you guys can talk freely about weapons and martial arts while you don't ask her out just so you can jerk off alone about it later."

The look he sends her is dark, and Liz bet's it's more to do with how she just humiliated him in front of the stranger in their home then with the actual implications of her words. Liz knows Soul knows he's a big giant loser when it comes to Maka Albarn. But he greets her all the same, and is polite when he shuts off the television and slips his shoes on, grabbing his phone and his keys.

He is continuously polite when he says, "sup, man," and offers Kid his hand.

"Oh, hello," Kid replies evenly, but no less civil, even though Liz can tell he's sizing him up. She surprises herself with the realization, by how much she's starting to learn about him.

"Soul, this is Kid," she interrupts, feeling awkward for the first time in her life about bringing home a guy and she isn't sure why. Soul doesn't normally talk to the guys she comes back with, besides the occasional times he's had to throw them out.

"Nice to meet you," Soul says, and he doesn't even leer at her as he heads for the door, just gives a short grin and a lame salute as he tells them to have a good night just as the door is closing.

Not even a single tone of suggestiveness. Liz feels so weird about this.

"So, um."

"Your home is cute," he states, arms folded behind his back as he looks around. She's about to harp on him for using the word cute, but he sounds genuine and Liz is pretty sure that's the best she is going to get from him about it.

"Thanks, we've li- "

He talks over her again, "You mean Soul, yes?" Nothing about his voice has changed but when he turns to look at her, he looks speculative.

"Yeah?" She says slowly, unsure of where he's going with this conversation.

"Have you remained," he pauses for a moment, now seeming more thoughtful, "merely roommates?"

Leave it to Kid to make the 'have you fucked him' question seem more well mannered then it really is.

Still, she's shocked he's even asking, it's not like she can detect any sort of jealousy. Though, maybe, she thinks, maybe just a tiny bit of possessiveness.

"We slept together a few times," she admits, and the slight feeling she gets of shame is a first as well. He's never mentioned anything about what he has probably heard about Liz, but she's almost ninety percent sure he definitely knows, even he's not that oblivious to everything around him. For whatever reason, it feels almost…dirty admitting it to him, almost like she feels he would have expected more from her.

"I see."

"But not for awhile now," she then adds, also feeling like she needs to assure him of something.

If he cares about it, really, Liz can't tell because he doesn't say anything else about it, just mentions that she should take her heels off and offers his arm for her to steady herself on while he lightly touches her waist.

"Ugh,"she groans, collapsing on the couch, feet propped up at the top of the backrest. It's a movement she does unintentionally, just out of actual exhaustion and relief, but she counts it as a win when her dress bunches up enough to expose the lacy pattern at the very top of her thigh high stockings. Another fraction of an inch and her panties would show, just a tiny bit.

"Heels suck," she complains, pouting childishly at him, and she's thrilled to notice him following the length of her legs, into her hips, staring where you can see the slightest bit of skin in the gap between her dress and stockings, right at the slight curve of her ass.

Progress, no matter how small, is progress with Kid.

"They seem inconvenient," he agrees, but his voice is lower, more distant than normal. He's distracted.

Pure instinct makes her chest flush, and her breath catch by the way he's staring at her. He's never looked at her like this before, she would have definitely noticed a look like that. And this, this she can do, she's not out of her element in modern evening wear and bottles of Vosne-Romanee. This is natural, for her, and she believes it should be for everyone. Sex is healthy - both for a person's body and mind - and everyone should enjoy it without any shame.

"C'mere," she says, dropping her feet onto the actual seat, tapping her heels against the cushions demandingly. He obeys immediately, but his movements are slow, just a little bit cautious. Even if he's never done anything like this - and he hasn't, he told her on their fifth date - Kid is a very smart boy.

Pleased, Liz puts her legs over his lap, pulls herself closer until her ass is against his thigh, just barely. His entire body stills.

Giving him an short smile she reaches over to the makeshift music box coffee table for the remote, flicking it on and saying, "Have you ever seen Guardians of the Galaxy?" Briefly she hears him answer a mumbled no, but she keeps talking, taking control of the situation, she doesn't want him to feel uncomfortable at all. "I thought so, you don't really strike me as a movie sort of guy. Tell me, do you like theater?" She teases, nudging her heel against his other thigh.

"It's a more complex version of art - " He starts, defensive, and Liz cackles.

"I knew it!"

"So?" He says, the most ridiculous mixture of peeved and embarrassed, almost like he's...pouting.

The expression on his face is so cute, and Liz knows a good opportunity when she sees one. Without hesitation, she snakes a hand around his tie, yanking him down while she uses her other hand to steady herself on his shoulder. Instinct must make him reach for her hips, hands fluttering, but inexperience is what makes him gasp out loud as she bites at his bottom lip. For a few long seconds he does nothing, eyes wide and staring into hers with something akin to panic.

Undeterred, Liz replaces her teeth with her lips, suckling lightly to soothe before pressing her mouth against his, kissing him properly. Uncertainly, he kisses her back, clumsy and absolutely endearing.

It's his first kiss. Something hot and nearly sinister runs through her blood, making her dig her fingers into his shirt. He makes a soft sound, hands curling more tightly, more sure around her hips. Everything about him screams virgin, from the way their teeth sometimes clack together, to his occasional overuse of tongue. But Liz doesn't mind at all, just lets him explore at his will.

When he pulls back, sucking in a harsh breath through his nose, his cheeks are bright red, stained against his normally fair skin. It's a good look on him, she thinks, and it makes her grin deviously. It'd look even better with his hair a mess, face in between her thighs.

They'll get to that.

"So cute," she murmurs before rearranging herself so she can sit in his lap, thighs on either sides of his hips. The position makes her dress bunch up, and Kid purposefully averts his eyes.

"Elizabeth," he stammers, but his gaze keeps dropping to her mouth.

Pleased, Liz shakes her head, silencing him with a short kiss.