Born in the Flame

Chapter Nineteen

Birch wouldn't elaborate on where we were going, but insisted that I just follow. Where we ended up was a sign that I couldn't read. Granted, I couldn't read a lot of the signs here. Weeks earlier, I had teased Birch about there being pictures on the signs for him. At least the dwarven were kind enough to put pictures on their signs. Here, I felt like an absolute idiot for still not being able to read the swirls and scribbles that was elven.

    When I had presented myself back at the house, I could tell both of us were surprised how well we cleaned up. His suit was a dark forest green matched with hickory leather shoes. Birch's copper hair was down, but neatly combed. I think both of us saw each other in a different light. The insinuation Niamh made that I was going on a date ended up really getting to me. It caused me to put special care into my appearance. I knew this wasn't a date, but I couldn't help but feel like it was. My gut played a cruel game of tug-of-war inside my stomach at the thought of if it was or if it wasn't a date. No, it wasn't. At least that was what I told myself so I didn't ruin my dress and vomit.

    Gods, it was ridiculous that I was entertaining the idea that Birch intended for this to be a date; but when we entered the lounge, I knew exactly where we were. The ceiling opened up to a large clear skylight that showed the stars; and though I wasn't in the right spot, I knew if I was, I'd see the moon too. A flutter reverberated through me. I couldn't read the sign that had welcomed us at the entrance, but I could put all my money on a bet that this was definitely Moonlight.

    As we followed the host to our table, I couldn't help but look up at the stars in the skylight. It was strange, it was as if the window were enchanted and made them shine more. The direct and aggressive side of me wanted to ask flat out if this was a date, but the side of me that threw up when stressed out would rather die than ask.

    We sat down at a table that was at the very center of the skylight. A candle flicked in the center of the table. I ordered a glass of red wine, and Birch did the same. I contemplated how I'd ask if this was a date, rather than just ask if it was; or at least ask enough questions that would increase the probability of a predictable answer.

    "I've never seen a restaurant like this. The skylight is breathtaking." I mentioned.

    "I thought you might like it." He smiled. Gods, my heart raced faster than I could catch it.

    "Have you been here before?" I asked, taking a larger sip of wine than I anticipated.

    "No, but I've wanted to go here for a while. I know the owner." He replied. That answered nothing for me. I wondered if he was feeling the same weird anticipation as I was, or was I just insane? I took another large sip, and decided to take the direct approach.

    "Is this a date?" I asked quietly. I felt my stomach flip over after the words left my mouth. Birch's lips turned upward and gave a soft chuckle, making my stomach do somersaults.

    "Do you want it to be?" He asked, throwing the ball back into my court. This was either a dance of maneuvering around the actual topic, or a vile game of word-chess. Are you fucking kidding me? Just answer the question.

    "If I did?"

    "Then it is." His light smile stayed on his face, but looked over the menu. Neither of us actually answered, but knew what lay underneath the questions and vague answers. The insanity that was happning in my gut was not unpleasant, but still was an unsettling experience.

    Behind Birch, were multiple people dancing to a few musicians. There were percussion instruments I didn't recognize, but there was guitar playing a slow and seductive melody. A singer seemed to weave a song with the guitar, loosely following the beat of the drum as if it were also dancing alongside the couples. It wasn't the music of a tavern, that was certain.