Underground

23

Estelle
August and I go out for dinner that night. He wouldn't tell me where, but I had to dress fancy.
I was wearing a black bodycon dress, with long sleeves and a high neckline, paired with a pair of black pumps, both handed down from Logan. 
August was wearing a white colored shirt and a black bowtie, suspenders, black slacks, and some black dress shoes. 
"We're going to my favorite Italian place, Buon Cibo." August says, parallel-parking on a curb. 
He gets out of the car, walking to my side popping the door open. 
I get out as well, trying to balance with the unnecessarily tall heels. 
August grabs my arm, smiling widely.
I balance myself with his shoulders, reaching up and stealing a kiss.
He grins. "I don't know if I told you, but you look extremely beautiful."
"You look extremely handsome." I say, patting his cheek. "I'm extremely lucky."
"If anything, I'm lucky." He says, smiling.
"I'm cold." I blurt. "Let's go inside."
He grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. "It's about a block walk, it'll take no more than 5 minutes."
"Okay, well let's start walking."
***
The hostess is a tall, dark haired woman wearing an apron.
"Hi August." She says.
August smiles. "Hi Stacy."
"Who's your friend?" She asks.
"This is Estelle." He says.
"A table for two I presume?" She guesses, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Yes please." August says.
"Right this way please." She says, leading us to a cute little table in the back, the trim of it decorated with lights. 
We sit down and Stacy goes back to her podium.
"You seem to be a usual." I joke.
He gives a smile, scanning the menu.
I grab a menu too, also reading it. "Have you decided?"
"Yeah, how about you?" He asks.
"This la-sau-guh-nay stuff." I say, horribly mispronouncing the food.
"Lasagne?" He asks, laughing.
"That's what I said." I smile.

"Do you want me to order for you?" He asks. "Because of your incapability to say Italian cuisine?"
"That would be lovely." I say.
He raises his hand and flags a waitress.
"Hello dearies, what can I get you?"
"Hi, can we get an antipasto and a lasagne?" August asks.
"The usual drinks?" She asks.
"Actually, we'll both take water."
She smiles. "Alrighty August, we'll get that as soon as we can."
"Thanks Molly."
The waitress walks to the back kitchen.
"I can't believe you're on a first name basis here." I giggle.
He smiles. "I can't believe you can't pronounce lasagne."
"It's not my fault." I say, playfully rolling my eyes.
"Good point." He says. "How have you been holding up?"
I pause. "Okay."
"I can tell you're lying." August says.
I look up at him.
His eyes widen in concern. "What is it?"
"It's about the nightmares..." I trail off.
He leans in closer. "If you don't wanna tell me now that's okay."
"Okay, I wouldn't want to ruin this lovely dinner." I answer, tapping my fingers on the oak table.
He reaches out and grabs my hand. "You're okay, right?"
I nod slowly, letting out a sigh of relief when Molly comes back with two glasses filled with water.
"Here you go." She says, setting them both on the table.
"Thank you Molly." I say, nodding my head in appreciation.
Her face lights up. "That's a pretty accent you've got there."
"Thank you again Molly." I say.
She curtsies and wanders around the restaurant looking for something to do.
August sips his water.
I do the same, taking a soft sip of my water.
***
The car ride is silent, except the sound of Niall Horan coming from the radio, August tapped the song onto the steering wheel.
To be fair, it wasn't an awkward silence it was more comfortable, both of us were noticeably tired and ready to sleep.
The ten minute drive from the restaurant back to August's house felt like it took eighteen years, but eventually it ends, and we both get out of the car.
I get to the door first, eager to take off my shoes.
August follows closely, unlocking the door.
I walk inside, letting the sound of heels against hardwood flooring fill the house.
August walking in after me. "I'm gonna go change." He murmurs into my ear before kissing the back of my head, walking away presumably to his bedroom.
Atlas pads along after him, tripping over his own feet.
I reach down and undo the zip on the side of my shoes, stepping out of them with a sigh. I pick up the shoes and walk to my bedroom, placing them by the empty wardrobe. I dig around in one of my boxes and pull out fluffy pajama pants and a tee-shirt, obviously, I change.
After changing, I walk out to the hallway and knock on August's door.
"Come in." He calls.
I push open the door, taking in the room.
"Hey." He says, sitting on his bed. He was petting Atlas's head while the puppy panted heavily.
They'd obviously been playing.
"Hi." I say softly.
He looks up. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I was just wondering if we could talk." I say, stepping into the room. 
He gives me a sympathetic smile. "We can always talk, you know that." 
"Yeah, I guess it just feel kinda awkward." I reply, looking down at the carpeted floor. 
Atlas jumps off the bed and sits at my feet, looking up at me. 
"I know it can be, but we need to get you through this." 
I felt a hand on my bicep and I look up into his wonderful, concerned brown eyes. 
"You'll get through this." He whispers. 
"I know." I say. "But if I want to get through this I need to talk." 
"Alright, then talk." He says, carefully leading me to the bed. 
I perch myself on the edge of his mouth-wateringly comfortable mattress, and look up at August. 
"So?" He asks, standing in front of me. 
"The nightmares, um, they're getting worse." I say, looking up into his eyes. "So bad, I don't think I can go to sleep tonight without fearing for my life."