Cadet at the city of Metropolis' prestigious military academy, Dusk Lancaster on the outside was a man to envy. Yet, behind his uniform, a beast having lost his compass thrived on the thrill of bloody duels, whilst the orphaned shoeshine boy he once...
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March 23rd 549 days to the miracle Queenston, Borough 4.
"Please don't go hard on him!" Frost murmured, glancing the server coming their way. Their voices went still as their eyes were back on the man bringing the drinks along. Starting with Frost serving her juice, and just about to kick it off with the ritual of wine tasting again, Henry interposed.
"No need!" said he raising his hand, as the sommelier was about to present him with the bottle for a second verification. "It seems this lady felt bad for you, so I exempt you the ordeal, and I trust you this time so please just pour us what you have!"
"There is nothing wrong with that miss!" returned the server, addressing Frost, who went blushing, kicking Henry from under the table for speaking on her behalf, she was a shy girl. "And I say this faithfully, I get asked to return drinks more than you think, and I am absolutely cool with that, it's at the core of my duty after all, so are you sure gentlemen? Can I at least decant for you?"
"Yes why not? Go ahead!" imperatively told he the man. Alphonse was having bit of trouble hiding his resentment over Henry's domineering move, without regard for his opinion—whether they should taste the wine first or not—deliberately steering clear of consulting him. Plainly taking advantage of the situation so to impress Frost, in whom Alphonse had the most interest; as he was the one to acquaint her with his mate Henry to begin with, he was the one to invite both her and that friend of hers—she who was yet to join them—for a soirée at the FitzRoy.
Although the burden to secure their reservation was Henry's, and such task wasn't easy at a place notorious for its eclecticism, nevertheless he had an agreement with Henry obliging the latter not to transgress on Alphonse's burgeoning affair with Frost; they had even preemptively selected their seats for the occasion, where Alphonse was to front Frost, whilst in compensation Henry was to have the other girl. Though so far, he manifested no desire to comply with that deal, either for being not so sure whether the other one was as attractive as Frost, whom based on Alphonse's deceptive description, he did not expect to be this good looking; or that it was just in Henry's nature, so to pose before whichever woman he had the slightest interaction with; even if so meant denying his mate his chance—Alphonse from whose side he sensed the heat coming off. Although Frost who occupied herself texting her late friend, appeared not to discern the tension there.
"Sure." Nonchalantly the somm responded, doing his thing, decanting their wine before pouring them some. He then placed the bottle into the ice bucket.
"Do you mind opening the curtains?" Frost asked, whilst about he excused himself to leave.
"No we do not do that here!" said he with a straight face, to their surprise, seeing other patrons had balconies to their side uncurtained. "No, come on! Of course I don't mind to open them!" the blithesome sommelier then added chortling, assuring them of his lightheartedness, as he slid the curtains wide open and the view was worth it, looking over the river and the hanging bridge of the city.
