The icing on your cake, the cherry on the top
The wide smile he offers the waitress might look like a guilty cover up, but it's meant as a completely honest show of hands to go see??? when she finds nothing exciting happening with her little peek. Admittedly, one for two means her trust hasn't been fully regained, and she's bound to check again upon her return with the food. Trying his best not to let his smile dip into a snicker about the whole ordeal and really ruin their odds of spit-free meals, he turns into his hand and is ever grateful that Flora has the grace to remain diplomatic enough to order for them.
Watching the server walk off, he wonders for a moment if she woke up on the wrong side of the bed or if she's always this unfun. "You have to give me a bite of your strawberries," he informs Flora with all the airs of a contract reminder as he turns back towards her. There is none, of course, but that hardly seems reason enough for her to withhold his favorite fruit. Maybe if he'd bothered to look at the menu, he could have added strawberries to his pancakes, but instead he'd been far too confident about the whole thing and now he's woefully underprepared to watch her eat strawberries without him.
Resuming her role of able diplomat, she reminds him that they're not just here to celebrate large breakfast options and each other's lips, sadly. "Hm?" he murmurs into his hand, leaning back of the table and into the booth. He slouches into her as he looks up at the ceiling for a moment in thought. "Here, you be him," he tells her with a glance and a scooch away. "Tell me how this goes!" He ducks out the other side of the booth, side sharp with cold after the loss of her heat, and he nabs a napkin container off a nearby table (let's hope the waitress isn't watching) before disappearing around the corner so they can each prepare for the scene.
Watching the server walk off, he wonders for a moment if she woke up on the wrong side of the bed or if she's always this unfun. "You have to give me a bite of your strawberries," he informs Flora with all the airs of a contract reminder as he turns back towards her. There is none, of course, but that hardly seems reason enough for her to withhold his favorite fruit. Maybe if he'd bothered to look at the menu, he could have added strawberries to his pancakes, but instead he'd been far too confident about the whole thing and now he's woefully underprepared to watch her eat strawberries without him.
Resuming her role of able diplomat, she reminds him that they're not just here to celebrate large breakfast options and each other's lips, sadly. "Hm?" he murmurs into his hand, leaning back of the table and into the booth. He slouches into her as he looks up at the ceiling for a moment in thought. "Here, you be him," he tells her with a glance and a scooch away. "Tell me how this goes!" He ducks out the other side of the booth, side sharp with cold after the loss of her heat, and he nabs a napkin container off a nearby table (let's hope the waitress isn't watching) before disappearing around the corner so they can each prepare for the scene.
Kaisel
The perfect mix of Saturday night and the rest of your life
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
