A Royal Pain in the Ball ✓

Chapter 46 - Meatball

She was still hungry.

And she did the only thing she didn't want to. She raised an arm and waved it in the air.

She wanted to.

She called the waiter.

It was not that bad. Compared to the smoldering cold of the surrounding air around her like an envelope, this was a breath of fresh air.

As she did, a walking waiter passed by and noticed her as he glanced her way before walking over.

Of course, she did, in fact, notice that Cain was looking at her. Maybe he thought that he was trying to catch the small stars in the midnight sky, or something. And he should've known that he was taking an awful darn time. And it didn't help that she couldn't speak nor read the menu in Russian.

To heck with it. Cain had better not try anything funny.

"What is your most recommended menu?" She asked at the waiter standing by, thankfully with a pen and note.

The waiter looked at her, "That would be the cream pasta, and the lobster and pasta, miss." He spoke with that Russian accent of his.

She still had stomach for it.

Thank goodness he spoke English.

She was starting to get a little bit weirded out at how the Russians speaks so fluently at the gibberish language she heard through her ears. Every one of them. Like waves she heard through and throughout. She didn't understand, nor did she hear it as the buzz of bees inside her ears.

And Cain had the time to look up at the waiter, clearly shocked, as his eyes travel back and forth from Averithe to the waiter. And again. A glint in his eye.

He did not, think the waiter was going to come by. Not at this time of the night.

She ignored him.

Well, he didn't stop her when she waved and called on the waiter. What else was she supposed to do now?

She replied. "Oh, well I'll take the Lobster and pasta, please." Rather politely at the well-dressed man.

"Да." He wrote it down on his memo. "And, you sir?" He turned to him.

They stared for a while, "Sorry, but I'll order when I want." He said, forking another bite.

"All right. Your order will be ready in 20 minutes." He both replied with a nod and the man went away.

She was met with a cool air. Until she leaned back in her seat and she was met with the cold, stoned gaze of a man across her.

It was a sort of glare.

"What?"

"Couldn't you wait until I finish?"

To which she eyed at his still, almost-full of a plate, "You just had - and are still having your meal. And you want to order again, aren't you full?" It almost sounded like a whine and an insult, but she didn't know which one's which.

He sighed. He just wouldn't stop.

And she just wasn't patient.

"Maybe, I wanted to look at some and, you know-- some desserts. Maybe I wanted to order one." He grabbed the menu off the side, and flailed it in front of her, as he opened it and skidded it to the desserts section, "and you wouldn't even know."

"You didn't seem like you were interested." She muttered. Leaning forward and straightening in her seat again.

"Well. It takes me longer to pick a dessert." He blatantly said, putting it back down with a flap.