My Little Love (Discontinued)

10

ten

Henrik walked next to me, rather closely with his hand wrapped around mine as though I was a small child, like he was scared that I would get lost. I followed his every step, he went right and I did the same, he went left and I did the same, it was a pattern between us. A pattern I was getting used to, instead of me pacing my bedroom floor and knowing every crevice in the room, it was me who was getting used to a new path.

I wanted so badly to know where I was going but I also loved the idea of a surprise.

All I knew was what Henrik told me, It was a restaurant owned by a woman named Silvia. I imagined it as a cute place, a tiny restaurant where it was common for everyone to enjoy their lunch there and that it would remind me of eating at Macia's, it would give off the feeling of home.

Sighing contently, I continued kicking the pebbles underneath my feet, watching them roll away from me, they would either go towards Henrik's long steps or straight to the road and away from the both of us.

"We're here," Henrik's voice took me out of whatever trance I was in, his hand squeezing mine.

I looked up from the ground, my jaw dropping as I stared up at the brick building that was the opposite of what I pictured. This was not the restaurant I would imagine families dining in. There were people, couples, wearing expensive dresses and suits as they entered the restaurant hand in hand.

"This way," Henrik urged me along, the feel of his hand letting go of mine and placing itself in the middle of my back sent a shiver down my spine.

As we entered the building I couldn't help but be in awe. "This place is beautiful," I whispered, my blue eyes wide as I took in everything around us.

The entire restaurant was huge, tables upon tables lined up along the sides and placed throughout the middle, nearly all of them containing a smiling couple. The sound of classical music filling my tiny ears paired with the dark lighting, the only sign of actual light was the small ones hanging from the ceiling, all of it creating some type of feeling.

Romance, the word popped into my mind instantly but I shoved it to the back in hopes that romance wasn't the feeling it was supposed to give off.

I remember Mama telling me a story of when she first went on a date with Papa, it was to a fancy restaurant where they played romantic French favourites.

"Avez-vous une réservation?" I brought my head up at the new voice, it was a girl with a feline like appearance, almond eyes and thin lips, she was wearing the same dark outfit as the rest of the staff. She fiddled with her red hair as she looked up at Henrik.

"Oui," Henrik answered.

"Nom, monsieur?" She looked down at the paper she had sitting in front of her, on top of the greeting table near the front door.

"Allen." American, I thought.

"Par ici," she said, grabbing two menus and leading us to a table around the back, one that was close to the music but faraway from a window.

"Quelque chose que je peux vous commencer tous les deux avec?" She asked us, smiling politely as she put our menus out in front of us.

"Champagne, s'il vous plait," Henrik told her, not bothering to look up at her but instead his eyes scanned the menu.