What's Cooking, Good Looking! [ Arven x Reader ]

8 Servings of Questions

˖˚⋅𓐐 ˚₊⋅𓌉◯𓇋 ˖˚⊹ 𓎩 ‧₊˚

"He's late" , Arven sighed, checking the time on his rotom phone. 

It hadn't been that long since your agreed time, no more than 5 or 6 minutes, but the nerves where getting to him. He also had picked up the habit of being at least 10 minutes early to every appointment he had, so he had been waiting for longer. He often forgot that not everybody was like him in that aspect.

He looked down at his feet, his brown dress shoes staring back from underneath his long gray coat, both things he had picked from his father's old closet back at the lab in Poco Path. Arven didn't own that many nice clothes, mostly wearing comfy sweaters around his dorm, but he'd made an effort for today. With the help of his more fashion aquainted friends. He wore an amber colored turtleneck,black jeans, and a much smaller backpack than his usual one. He was the type to never go out without some portable storage, even if he didn't need it. Just in case. He kept your jacket in there.

"Maybe this wasn't worth it" , he thought, "This is stupid, I should've just worn my uniform" .

A sudden 'ping' sound indicated the arrival of a new message: 'look up :)' , it read.

He did as your text said, and was met with a big, threatening Corviknight dashing in his direction, its figure silhouetted by the afternoon sun.

—WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING- 

He protected himself with his arms, tho he knew he was no rival to the bird's dagger-like claws. The impact, however, never happened. A dry thud was still heard. He raised his eyes and saw you, standing up from the ground after diving head first into it. Where you riding on the pokémon?

—So much for a cool entrance...— you shook the dirt off your clothes, then looking at your pokémon— We really could work on your landing.

The Corviknight glared at you, taking its pokeball from your pocket and pressing the button with their beak, taking themselves inside.

—When did you learn... Bah, anyways. Sorry I'm late! The thrift store didn't have my...— you stared at the boy in front of you, your eyes shot open and cheeks heat up slightly.

—What? Why're you looking at me like that?

—You... actually dressed up nicely for this?— he pressed his lips, a frown now present on his face, but what he felt was more akin to shame.

—I knew this was just a joke! Screw it, I'm goin' home!— he spun around, ready to leave, but you grabbed him by the arm before he could get away from you.

—I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that! I just didn't expect you to take me seriously with the whole date thing...— your lips perked up, a gentle smile on your face— But I'm glad you did! You look amazing.

Arven slowly pulled away from you grip, brushing his arm with his hand.

—You... You look pretty decent yourself— he looked into your eyes , then away at the dirt road— So, where are we going?

You didn't answer him, instead calling for a flying taxi that took you both to Cascarrafa.
You walked around the lively streets, eventually bumping into an area with lots of tables organized one after the other, various ingredients placed in many bowls across all of them, and stoves built into each one. Other people joyfully stood around many of the tables, and you pulled Arven with you to do the same.