Well....here we are. (Deacon)

After going back to her duties from that lunch break, Angharad had thought that the embarrassment of suddenly inviting Deacon over to her little house would wear off.  After all, military duties were her life.  There was no time to be flustered about mere trifles.  It had been wildly out of character for her to spontaneously ask someone over to her lifeless abode; some mechanism in her had compelled her to do it, and she still didn't know how it came to be.  But she had already told him when and where; around evening of that day was the time.  After showering and putting on a comfortable t-shirt and shorts, she sat upon the couch with a can of coke in her hand, waiting anxiously for that knock upon her door.  She stared at the clock.  It was almost seven...he should be here anytime now.  She was wondering what she should do once he came.  Her house was the most simple of the simple of houses.  She wasted no time upon decorations; okay, so maybe she hung up some weapons, but otherwise the house was plain.  She would've gotten herself a cheap flat, but Owain had coerced her into getting a decent house for herself.  At least it hadn't been expensive and was basic.  She didn't need anything else.

@deacon

What exactly is a guy supposed to think when a girl, especially one who didn't seem too find interest in anything but order and fighting, invited him over to her house? What the heck were they going to do? Angharad didn't strike him as a 'sit and watch a rom com' kind of girl, and she didn't seem like the kind of person to go out on the town and dance at NYSA. So what exactly was left? Marching and chatting over battle plans?

He knocked on her door heavily and stood with his thumbs on the back pockets of his jeans. 

Ang stiffened when she heard the knock on the door. It must be Deacon.  Deacon was going to walk into her house, and there was no stopping it.  She had spontaneously asked him to come, and as a captain he had come on time.  This was all her doing.  She could do nothing but open the door, and then she'll have to decide how to play the role of the host correctly afterward.

She put her can of coke down upon the table.  Normally Ang would've refused to be wearing anything as informal as this in the legion unless she was outside of her barracks.  But this was less like being at Camp Jupiter and more like being in a real modern home, and in a real modern home she didn't have qualms about wearing a baggy t-shirt and shorts.  She strode to the door and opened the door, almost as if she were on duty.

And there he was.  She straightened up and brought her hand up to her brow in a salute.  "Captain Jacoby."  She brought her hand down at her side once more.  She quickly pondered what she should say, and then jumped upon the more soldierly route.  "I'm grateful to see you've come.  I hope your trip to the house was untroubled." 

She opened the door wider so he could enter.  Ang moved away from the door and walked over to the table in front of the couch she had been sitting upon.  There was a can of coke that had not been opened yet.  She picked it up and held it out to him.  "This is for you, if you wish to drink it."

Deacon nodded as he took the pop from her and thought to himself that he would really like it if she would loosen up around him. The last thing that he wanted was for her to be uncomfortable, "Captain." He grinned at her brightly and looked around the apartment, "You got a really nice place here." His voice was confident and strong and he hoped that him being comfortable would help her to relax just a little.

Ang knew that he was probably complimenting her house just to be polite, but the truth was that it was plain and boring.  "Thank you. It's not much, but more than I really need.  I would've been happy to stay in the barracks, but my brother the Commander coaxed me into getting my own house."  The barracks reminded her of Camp Jupiter, but Owain seemed to want Ang to move on from that stage of her life when she was nothing but a soldier.  "Do you have your own house? Or an apartment?" she asked Deacon.

The daughter of Bellona turned around and walked back to the couch, which she sat down on.  She grabbed her coke from the table and took another sip of it.  "Feel free to sit beside me, if you want," she said, gesturing to the space on the couch beside her.  She sounded confident enough; she had sat beside soldiers before.  Yet, part of her was a little excited by the notion of him sitting beside her.  Last time at the food court he had sat across from her, but sitting beside her would make him closer in proximity.  She would feel a little weird making him stand around and do nothing, though.  At least, they could sit over their cans of coke and talk.  If he wanted, they could watch television.  Ang barely watched television unless she was catching up on political Concordian news. 

Deacon frowned and sat down next to her, "Angharad, what is your favorite thing to do just for fun?" He asked, truly interested, and partly because if the conversation didn't get rolling soon, he might bow out because of awkward necessity.