The Proposal

"I have only one question... how?"

"Mm... I know it's hard to surprise you. But I took a chance."

The roof of a high-rise. Mew is wearing an elegant tuxedo of a milky shade. With a sparkle in his eyes and a dazzling smile on his face. They are both not teens, but for some reason Gulf, in his modest outfit of a purple shirt and jeans, feels childishly vulnerable next to such an adult and handsome man.

"Yeah," Gulf walks up to the snow-white grand piano, which stands majestically in the very center. A little further away, dinner is served for two. Glass lanterns are lit in the middle of the table.

"So-so-so?" Mew pushes back his chair, inviting Gulf to take a seat. — "Are there still doubts and thoughts about 'escape'?"

Gulf grins and just sits down in silence, without ceasing to look around. Meanwhile, Mew takes a bottle of champagne out of the bucket, deftly opens it and fills the glasses. Sparkling foam falls on the tablecloth. But it doesn't matter. Mew sits down opposite and raises his glass. Gulf does the same and looks expectantly at his subordinate.

"For you," Mew clears his throat, adding, "I mean... for your promotion."

Gulf clinks glasses with him in the air, takes a sip and sarcastically replies:

"Have you decided to go with the trumps? Are you immediately greasing up to the boss so that he doesn't forget about you in your new position?"

Mew giggles, resting his chin on his palms in a cute way:

"I didn't think I'd ever say that, but I'm glad to see that old Gulf. It reminds me of better times."

For thirty seconds they silently stare at each other, and then simultaneously burst out laughing.

"You know, Mew, in all these years I have not learned to distinguish between when you are joking and when you are serious."

"Maybe if you'd stopped running from me, it would have turned out better and faster, eh, Gulf?"

On the contrary, they take a couple more sips and try the meat in the hotpot with a fork:

"I think it's ready."

Mew shakes his head:

"But I don't seem to have gotten used to your ability to get off the subject."

Gulf raises his eyebrows, wondering:

"Let's finish the reflection and eat. I haven't had a crumb in my stomach since breakfast."

"Good. Enjoy your meal. I hope you'll like dinner."

Gulf, done without hesitation, fills the plate with everything a little bit:

"I'm so hungry that I would eat a basin of slugs!"

"Ugh," Mew frowns, "but you can do without such comparisons, I don't mind eating, either."

Gulf laughs, winking at him:

"Well, you were enjoying the 'old Gulf' a couple of minutes ago. Is it all? Has the joy gone away?"

Mew frowns and starts eating. And after a minute he hears a quiet:

"Actually... no one - except you - has arranged dates for me. Also such unusual... thank you."

The frown between Mew's eyebrows is instantly smoothed out. The sharp excitement in the chest from Gulf's barbs softens:

"I'm always happy to do everything for you."

Gulf gives him a bright smile, which seems even brighter to Mew in the cozy light of the lanterns. A few more minutes pass, during which both have time to thoroughly refresh themselves. Then Gulf says: