Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

The Popular Spot

A/N: I will be honest and admit that this chapter isn't my best production.

[The Popular Spot]

Picture an unimposing little restaurant sitting comfortably in along a road that observed decent foot traffic and was served by fair public transport. The shopfront itself was nothing very special: the name of the restaurant was written in cursive and a silhouette of a woman in a sexy pose with guns in both hands sat above the door. A small piece of paper was taped to the glass window of the door, informing diners of their opening hours and a polite sentence begging for diners to be patient if a wait to enter the restaurant proper was required.

Inside, red tiles on the floor and faded brown wallpaper gave an unexplainable type of warmth to the place. Above each wooden round table at each stall hung lamps that gave off soft yellow light. The general lighting of the restaurant was dimmed along the corridors, meant for diners to focus on only their meal and their partners instead of other patrons. The seats were comfortable –and some stalls were bigger than others to cater for bigger groups. The corridors were big enough for two to walk side-by-side without squeeze, and the tables were formed in a general U-shape, pointing towards the counter and reception at one side of the restaurant. The counter/reception table was simple; a cash register stood there along with a phone meant for collecting reservations. A stack of menus sat behind the counter, ready to be passed to patrons. A small jar was left on the counter for tips.

The empty wall to the left from the counter hid a door that swung inwards to a small kitchen. This was where the food would be made, where the magic would be put together by two capable ladies. They might be a little bit undervalued at times by diners, but the employees of this small restaurant knew better. Without either of the ladies, the restaurant would have fallen to shambles by now. Nobody else in the small family could cook, much less make food deserving of second, third, and subsequent revisits. The kitchen itself was not remarkable either –clean, neat and generally ergonomic enough for work.

But it was not the physical environment of the restaurant that made the popularity of the place. It was the people that worked there that made the place revisited constantly. To be very fair, it was the employees who served the patrons directly that constantly brought back the customers. It was a profitable business model: attract the patrons, and keep them with the food.

The door opened with a small twinkle, announcing the arrival of new diners. The pair of diners that had come swinging by after hearing positive reviews from their friends, and so far, the impression had still been good.

The impression was only going to get better, as a young man with short-cropped white hair with carefully messy hair-style approached them quickly with an embarrassed smile. It appeared as if he felt that the smile was unnatural on his face, but his effort was the drawing-factor as the pair of female diners could not resist smiling at the young-boy aura that he gave off.

"Any reservations, ladies?" He enunciated clearly, but the uneasy expression on his face seemed rather oddly charming instead. His escaping of eye contact like an embarrassed boy in front of his crush certainly had its way with the ladies, and their smiles unconsciously drew across their faces as they view him through kind, forgiving eyes as they replied to his question with a negative.

"Right this way, then." The Waiter whose name was identified as Nero by his tag turned to lead the restaurant's newest diners to their table, and the ladies began admiring more than just his face as they followed after him. He had a body that clearly did not look like he did waiting tables as his main job, but his height and broad shoulders pulled off his uniform very well. He filled in his waiter's coat nicely, and though a tiny apron was tied at his waist, it did nothing to reduce the masculinity of his body shape.