waterfalls

fancy dinner

"Hey," Berlin whispers to you, a bit urgently. You don't look up from your menu, thinking fanciful thoughts of bankrupting the man.

"Hmm?"

"We gotta go."

You look up, frowning.

Berlin's got an urgent look on his face. His frown matches yours. If he didn't look so disturbed you might take the moment to appreciate the shirt he's wearing, sleeves rolled up past his forearm. You might even stare a little bit. But Berlin is frowning. And there is something wrong.

"What?" You ask him, looking around. "What's going on?"

"We have to leave." He doesn't elaborate any further, because why would he? "Okay." You drawl, blinking at him. "Why?" You look out the window to your left for any incoming disasters. If there was a possibility that anyone in this restaurant were to get hurt, you're sure Berlin wouldn't be just sitting there, waiting to have a conversation about death.

But there's nothing. No robberies. No impending doom that needs to be tended to. Your brow furrows even deeper. You stare at him, expectant.

"The waiter was flirting with you," Berlin mutters, casting a glance toward the man on the other side of the restaurant.
The man who you thought was perfectly pleasant.

"What?"

"He couldn't stop staring at you. I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head."

You snort, a bit confused. "Berlin." You say, a strange sort of smile on your face. "What?"

"If I have to watch him drool all over you again, I might spontaneously combust."

You close your menu, staring at him.

"'m serious, babe, we have to go."

"We already ordered bread and drinks."

"I'll pay triple however much that cost. The waiter gets no tip," Berlin furrows his brows, considering. "Okay, fine. He gets fifteen percent."

"How chivalrous."

"Baby." Berlin whines, like a child. You might find it a little bit cute. "Please? I'm having a hard enough time already."

"What?" You frown. "Why?"

The man blinks at you. Does a slow-up and down your body, raising his eyebrows.

You think back to the hands that had lingered on every inch of skin they could find on the way there. Touches that could've melted you to your very core.

"Oh." You cross your arms, self-conscious. "Thought you were kidding earlier when you said that-"

Berlin stares at you blankly. Fighting the urge to call you crazy for not believing him.

"Okay. Not kidding."

His head drops down to the table, and if not for his muffled voice you might hear him groan.

"B," You coo, softly. "I think it'll be alright. I'll even hold your hand when he comes back over."

The man doesn't budge at the nickname, but you snicker internally, reaching a hand out to mess up his hair.
He sits up, fixing it with a frown--as if it's at all salvageable.

"Is this what we've come to?" Berlin asks you, shaking his head. "You have to bribe me with affection? You only want to hold my hand to turn away the poor waiter-"

"It's always been like this."

Berlin points a finger at you. "Not true."

Scoffing you roll your eyes. "On our first date, you tried to get me to stay up all night so we could watch the sunset-"

"-That would've been romantic."

" -And I had to bribe you with a goodnight kiss. Just so you would let me go home."

Berlin smiles like he's still pleased with himself. "You didn't want to leave. I was trying to help."

"You just wanted to make out on the bus."

"That's disgusting," Berlin says, looking away from you finally. His menu is still open, on the table, waiting to be looked at. "We could go to the diner across from your apartment."

"We went there last week."

"Great service," Berlin says, nonchalantly. Not at all missing a beat.

"This is supposed to be a fancy date, B."

"What's fancier than sharing a milkshake?"

"Crème brûlée."

Berlin purses his lips, a hand going to scratch at his lips. There are about ten seconds of silence. You use it to stare at him and wonder how he could possibly feel intimidated by anyone else.

"Fine," He says, "We'll order dessert to go. And then we'll go get burgers."

You open your mouth. close it.

"You like burgers," Berlin reassures you.

"I also like having a nice dinner with my boyfriend."

"That can be arranged."

You sigh. "Even if we order dessert to go, we'll still have to talk to David again."

Berlin gawks at you. Like you just hit pumpkin with your car. "You know his name?"

"He literally introduced himself. It was the first thing he said." You say it like it was no big deal, because it wasn't its common courtesy.

"You remembered his name?"

You wave a hand. "Boy, you have no reason to be jealous. Maybe he just saw something on my face." Berlin sits back and crosses his arms. He raises an eyebrow at you, to which you smile back innocently.

He says I know what you're doing without the words.
"There's nothing on your face," He says, dryly. "Besides pure perfection."

You smile. Your heartwarming at his words.

Berlin runs a hand down his face, shaking his head.

"You're right," He relents, sighing.

"It's okay baby like I said-"

"It doesn't matter where we go," Berlin interrupts. "Everyone's going to stare at you anyway."

"..Not where I was going with that."

"I guess I just need to accept reality."

"I don't think-"

"I mean," Berlin finally looks you right in the eyes, a hint of a smile playing on his face. "How lucky am I?"

Your face goes blank, for just a moment. Your brain is short-circuiting. And then, completely despite yourself, you smile at him, skin tingling at the intensity of his stare. Of his teasing and gentle laughter as he smiles back.

And, really, it's not your fault that you have to lean across the table to kiss him. He's just so goddamn irresistible.
after a couple of seconds--and an ahem from the table beside you--you sit back down, opening your menu once again. You smile while you try and decide what to eat.
And try to come up with the perfect way to get Berlin back for all of that.

You've gotten as far as thanking the waiter profusely when he comes back. It's only a minute later when he whispers to you, "Can I at least order the most complicated thing on the menu just to mess with him?"