The private booth was cozy, dimly lit by a small hanging lamp that cast a warm glow over the dark wood table. The walls were a rich, textured brown with subtle golden accents, creating an intimate and refined atmosphere. Riza settled into her seat across from me, her bag of plushies occupying the spot beside her like a treasured guest. The smug dragon's face peeked out from the top, almost daring anyone to challenge its position as the prize of the evening.
The soft sound of classical piano music played in the background, adding to the restaurant's surprisingly upscale vibe. I glanced around, impressed. They've really stepped up their game, I thought, noting the elegant chandeliers and the artistic murals that adorned the walls, blending seamlessly with the large windows offering a view of the star-speckled void outside.
Our waitress returned with a bright smile, her holopad in hand. "Thank you for waiting! Now, can I start you two off with some drinks? Water, or something else?"
"I'm fine with water for now," I said, keeping it simple.
I looked over at Riza, who was staring at the drinks menu like it was written in a foreign language. Her lips pressed together, and I could see her growing more flustered by the second. "Uh… same for me," she finally blurted, clearly defaulting to the safest option.
But I knew her better than that. Before the waitress could leave, I raised a hand. "Actually, scratch that. Can we have two strawberry milk teas? One with heavy cream, extra fruit, and light whip, please."
The waitress's brows lifted slightly, and she brought her holopad to her lips to hide a sly smile. "Of course. That's a wonderful choice."
Riza's head snapped toward me, her cheeks already starting to redden. "W-wait, what—"
The waitress glanced between us with a playful twinkle in her eye. "Young love is so sweet," she said with a teasing tone, tapping the order into her holopad. "My boyfriend could learn a thing or two from you."
Riza's face turned a deeper shade of crimson. "P-please, ma'am! My standards aren't that low!" she stammered, looking anywhere but at me.
I snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. "Right. I just figured you'd want something sweet instead of water."
The waitress wasn't letting either of us off the hook. "Ah, is that so? That order was awfully specific for something spontaneous," she quipped, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"That one's for me, obviously," I said, though my defense sounded weaker than I intended.
The waitress arched a brow, turning her attention to Riza. "Well, ma'am, if this wasn't what you wanted, I'd be happy to change it."
Riza's jaw dropped, and she frantically waved her hands. "No! I mean—no, it's fine. I'm not petty enough to turn down a good drink," she said quickly, her voice a little too high-pitched.
The waitress smiled knowingly, jotting down a note. "Got it. Two strawberry milk teas, coming right up." She turned to leave, but not before adding with a grin, "You two really aren't a couple, huh?"
As soon as she left, we both slumped forward, letting our foreheads hit the table at almost the same time. The cool surface did nothing to alleviate the heat radiating from our embarrassed faces.
"She's relentless," I muttered, still face-down.
"She totally thinks we're dating," Riza groaned.
I glanced up at her, unable to help the small grin tugging at my lips. "Well, maybe if you didn't turn red every time she teased you, she wouldn't have so much ammo."
Riza shot me a glare, but her flustered expression ruined any attempt at being intimidating. "Don't act all cool. Your face is just as red as mine."
Before I could retort, the door slid open, and the waitress returned, balancing a tray with our drinks. "Here we are! Two strawberry milk teas," she said, setting them down. I immediately noticed something off—the special order, the one with heavy cream and extra fruit, was placed in front of Riza.
"Oh," the waitress said with mock surprise, her grin widening. "Looks like I mixed them up. Or did I?"
Riza and I exchanged a look, both too stunned to respond. "Your food will be out shortly!" the waitress chirped, disappearing again with a playful wave.
As the door closed behind her, Riza sighed, picking up her drink and taking a long sip. "This is amazing," she admitted begrudgingly, her earlier embarrassment momentarily forgotten.
"Glad you like it," I said, taking a sip of my own plain milk tea. It was refreshing, though the taste was second to the amusement of watching Riza savor hers.
"Hey," she said after a moment, her voice quieter, "about what I said earlier... I didn't mean it like dating you was bad or anything. I just, y'know... panicked."
I waved it off, offering her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. I knew what you meant."
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she gave me a small, grateful smile. "Thanks. Anyway, let's decide on food."
"Good idea. What's good here?" I asked, flipping open the menu.
Her face lit up, and she pointed enthusiastically at a dish. "The Vesuvio al Ragù di Salsiccia. It's pasta with tomatoes, sausage, and mozzarella. You'll love it."
"If you say so, I'm in," I said with a grin.
When the waitress returned to take our order, Riza confidently placed it: two Vesuvio al Ragù di Salsiccia, each with extra sauce, sausage, and mozzarella. The waitress raised a brow, her smile reappearing. "Another decision order?" she teased.
Riza stammered, "W-well, he ordered drinks, so I ordered food. Fair's fair, right?"
The waitress chuckled, jotting it down. "Of course, of course. I'll have it out shortly."
As she left, we both let out exaggerated groans, letting our heads hit the table again.
Somewhere in the back, the waitress whispered to a coworker, "Those two are so adorably clueless."
Back in our booth, Riza took another sip of her drink and muttered, "Why do I feel like we're the main event in some sitcom?"
"Probably because we are," I replied, earning a quiet laugh as we both settled in to wait for our meal.
The door to our private booth slid open again, and our cheerful waitress stepped in, balancing a tray with two small bowls of soup. Her smile was as radiant as ever, the playful glint in her eyes making it clear she wasn't done with her antics.
"Before your main course, here's a little complimentary starter for you both," she announced, setting the bowls down in front of us with a flourish. The golden broth shimmered under the warm light, a few sprigs of parsley floating on the surface.
"Wow, that looks fancy," Riza said, leaning in to inspect it. Her excitement was evident, though I caught the slight flicker of hesitation in her eyes. She was clearly unsure about the soup.
I reached for my spoon, giving it a small stir before glancing up at the waitress. "This looks great, but could I get some diced chives with mine?"
The waitress's sly smile returned instantly. "Oh, of course, sir. How very thoughtful! Adding diced chives—such a romantic touch to elevate the experience for your lovely companion."
My jaw dropped slightly. "That's not—"
Before I could finish, Riza's head snapped up, her cerulean eyes sparkling with newfound excitement. "Diced chives? Really?" she asked, her tone betraying just how much she loved them.
The waitress tilted her head, clearly enjoying the moment. "Ah, I see someone is a fan. How sweet of him to know your tastes so well."
Riza blinked, her cheeks turning pink as she quickly stammered, "W-well, I mean, I do like diced chives, but he didn't—this wasn't—"
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "It's just a personal preference, okay?"
The waitress grinned, clearly unconvinced. "Of course, sir. I'll be back with those chives in just a moment. Anything else to complement your shared soup experience?"
"No, just the chives, thanks," I muttered, doing my best to maintain composure.
As she left, Riza's eyes darted to the soup, then back to me. "Okay, but… if you get chives, I want some, too."
I sighed, shaking my head with a small smile. "Fine, I'll ask for extra when she gets back."
She brightened instantly, picking up her spoon and taking a small sip of the soup. "You know, this isn't bad, but with chives? It's going to be amazing."
"Glad I could improve your culinary experience," I said dryly, though I couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm.
The waitress's teasing may have been relentless, but seeing Riza this happy was worth it.
The door slid open again, and the waitress returned, a small dish of freshly diced chives balanced on her tray. Her ever-present smile hinted at more teasing, and I braced myself as she approached.
"Here we are," she said, setting the dish of chives between our bowls with the same flourish as if presenting a gourmet delicacy. "Diced chives for the gentleman who clearly knows how to keep his date happy."
My face immediately burned. "For the last time, we're not—"
"Uh-huh," she interrupted, waving a hand dismissively, her grin widening. "You keep saying that, but actions speak louder than words, don't they?"
Riza, now equally flustered, quickly grabbed a spoonful of the chives and sprinkled them over her soup. "It's just chives, okay? Not a big deal," she muttered, though the pink in her cheeks betrayed her excitement over the addition.
The waitress leaned in slightly, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "You know, I've seen a lot of couples come through here, and you two? Adorable. Just saying."
Riza nearly choked on her soup, coughing as she scrambled for a napkin. "W-we're just friends!" she squeaked.
The waitress straightened up, smirking as she placed her tray under her arm. "Sure, sure. And I'm just here to deliver soup. No judgments, I promise."
She turned toward the door, pausing to glance over her shoulder. "Enjoy your chives and soup, lovebirds. Your main course will be out soon."
With that, she left, leaving the door sliding shut behind her. The room was quiet for a beat before Riza and I both let out groans of frustration, our heads falling into our hands simultaneously.
"I think she's enjoying this a little too much," I muttered, lifting my head to stir my soup.
"You think?" Riza shot back, her voice muffled as she peeked at me over the edge of her bowl. But as she took another bite of her soup, the diced chives perfectly complementing the broth, a small smile crept onto her lips.
"…Okay, but these chives really do make it better," she admitted softly.
I chuckled despite myself. "You're welcome."