To the Hotel - aesthetic_mojo
They had a quiet dinner at a little bistro down from Charlie's building. The evening was nice enough that they sat outside, across a small table from each other. When they'd left the building, John had been very self-conscious about his hair, even though he was wearing a hat. But by the time they'd reached their destination, he'd been sufficiently distracted by her hand in his.
So, while they sat at the table, he laced his fingers between hers and let their hands sit on the table. If asked, later, what they talked about, John wouldn't have been able to tell anyone. It didn't matter.
After dinner, John decided it was time to go and get his stuff from the hotel. He had no idea what state his room was in, he couldn't remember how it had been when he left to go over to Charlie's a few days earlier. Hopefully, they wouldn't be there long.
So, while they sat at the table, he laced his fingers between hers and let their hands sit on the table. If asked, later, what they talked about, John wouldn't have been able to tell anyone. It didn't matter.
After dinner, John decided it was time to go and get his stuff from the hotel. He had no idea what state his room was in, he couldn't remember how it had been when he left to go over to Charlie's a few days earlier. Hopefully, they wouldn't be there long.