Eating Out

[Sombs]

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"Thanks, I guess," Ezrael sounded and looked at the money she just handed him. Smirking, he just went with it. A drink she said, so no tea. Wine instead, just boring enough. Maybe she wanted some as well.

Moving with her to the table in the corner, he invited her to sit down with him, himself taking place in a 90° angle from her to have a good overview, walls behind both of them. The Curacaoan raised his hand to signal the underoccupied waiter slash shop owner to come over to them. An elderly man who seemed rather confused and insecure about the guests. "The best fruity red wine you have. Price doesn't matter," Ezrael sounded, not wanting to waste the time with trivialities. Chances were anything on the Apahanta was better in quality than what this café could offer, anyway. And Raven was going to pay anyway. As the visibly bretonian man walked away, Ezrael turned his head towards the lady at his table. "Want to talk about where you got that new scar from?" he asked her, guessing it was an okay-ish conversation starter.

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