At the very least he was doing his half-brother a favor. Watching Doctor Who over the soap opera in the background - (Jackie and Arthur: Marathoning during primetime every day until after Christmas!) - was proving to be quite difficult. Arthur could now drink tea in peace while Ms. Ainsworth treated her son to a nice dinner. It wasn't like her to be late, and he could only imagine how strangely he looked sitting in a cafe half an hour past five sipping away at lukewarm earl grey tea.
"Dewi, meet me at the Kob & Dance Pub on Baker Street at 5. Love, Mum Yeah, right, Mum. You probably wanted me out of the house so I could keep you from picking on Arthur." He sank into his chair, crumbling the note between his fingers and palm, and caught a figure in the corner of his eye. She coughed to get his attention. Ah, the waitress - finally. "Hello, love, would you mind fetching me another cuppa?"
His knit his brows and met her gaze with a mouth slightly agape. He pushed his wrist against the bridge of his nose to push his glasses up. "Pardon? How do you know my mum?"
Nicoleta tried her best to press her laughter down her throat. A crooked smile plastered on her face before attempting to hide it with her fist. How reckless of her! However, it was quite funny. To her at least.
"Oh uh. Your mother told me to meet you here and get to know you or something." She replied naturally as she sat down in the chair across from Dewi. A little voice in her head muttered, "And get free food."
"Sorry about being late. Traffic problems." Nicoleta flashed a rare sheepish smile to cover her poorly executed lie. It has been quite a while since she has apologized as well; it felt strange.
Once she settled herself, she took a moment to scrutinize the man's face in a conspicuous manner, tilting her head only slightly to get an angle. Whoa, the baby fat isn't there but he sure resemble that baby picture; it is no wonder that it was him! His mommy was right: he is quite the catch! His face was practically dripping with goodness and sophistication that gang members would love to beat up!
"Oh, my name is Nicoleta by the way. Did you order anything yet?"
His heart sank and merged with his stomach. Suddenly the urge to swallow the lukewarm tea was stronger than the actual tea was. He could feel Nicoleta's eyes scrutinizing every freckle and eyelash. He reached up to straighten his bowtie, slide his thumb between his suspender strap and his pinstripe collared shirt. As her eyes dodged over his wardrobe, he had a chance to peer through his frames and take notice of the scarf around her collar and the skull pin wrung around it, the cross dangling on the chain dangling on her ear. She was gorgeous - the very essence of the word, but he could tell just from the initial gaze that her edges were rough.
"Hello, Nicoleta," he mustered a brilliant smile that shone even in his green eyes; his newly thickened eyebrows peered from behind the frames of his glasses. "I'm sure me mum's already told you that I'm Dewi. I'm terribly sorry that she's dragged you into this, but - might I ask what for?" He brushed his fingers over the handle of the teacup. "Only tea. I thought it rude to order before... mum, arrived, but... do feel free to order whatever you'd like."
"Uhm..." She managed to say after lifting up the teacup in front of her. "Well she said 'blind date' so I dunno. It seems that she got into your blog or something and put up your baby picture on the internet." Nicoleta wasn't quite sure if she was supposed to tell him that so frankly but she couldn't have figured out another way otherwise. Being subtle isn't one of her most brilliant traits alongside with lying. 'Spilling out the beans' - as how one would say it - is a much easier tactic.
Strange, she never got the chance to drink tea before. One sip and it tasted like oddly flavored water. She swallowed it with much disdain, wanting to gag during that instant. Hastily, after returning the cup back to its little saucer thing, she croaked between her coughs, "Ack... Can you order wine or something?"
It would be silly for an outsider to know that Nicoleta, the great alcohol consumer, can't even take a meager drip of tea. Her friends would laugh at her if they hear about this - no, if they get a whiff of her being as dorky as this, then she'd get picked on forever! She flushed and then grabbed the menu to occupy herself. Unfortunately, her timing slipped off as a waitress appeared and politely asked what they would like for dinner.
God fucking dammit, she still can't eat meat. She'll have to order a sissy salad then because the pressure was getting into her. "Fuck... I mean, I'll get a salad. The tangerine salad thing but don't put in any chicken or butter or anything animal related!" The waitress appeared confounded but didn't question her and then scribbled down whatever notes on her notepad. Well, at least it is pretty cheap.
Hello palm, meet face. Face, meet palm. Oh, good. You've met before. He reunited his forehead and the palm of his hand with a loud SMACK nearly offsetting his glasses. "Oh, Mum, why would she do this?" He could have sworn that he'd told his mother that he was still with Lucy-Marie, but that they were trying a long-distance relationship. Obviously the long-distance relationship thing worked out well, lest his mummy be more difficult to cope with because her son doesn't keep in contact.
The Welshman sank a little, unnoticed into his chair, clutching the cold teacup with both hands as it if kept his fingers warm. The waitress scribbled down his "date's" order - so she's a vegetarian - and then she turned to Dewi. "Hello, love, I'll be having another earl grey, and a serving of roast beef and yorkshire pudding to eat - oh, and can you get a glass of the house red for the lady, please."
She gave the "couple" a nod and scurried off. The moment she vanished behind the kitchen doors, Dewi wished she were still here to occupy his gaze. He met Nicoleta's eyes again. "Yes, indeed, well... what do you do for a living?"
"..." Nicoleta gave Dewi weirdest look with in inquisitive brow cocked up in a 'are you okay, weirdo?' manner. "Did a fly buzz by or somethin'?" She asked with a soft chuckle, trying to awkwardly mask away her previous expression.
As she returned the menu, the muscle under her eye twitched after hearing the man's order. R-Roast beef. Damn, there was no such tradition as fasting at this period, she would strangle and gut a cow with her own hands and then cook it over a slow fire. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. The Romanian woman gulped to maintain her composure.
Her eyes fluttered, brushing away her murderous lust for beef and stared at the other guy. "Oh I'm a bartender at Chueca," She said proudly before not feeling as proud a second later. Ugh the level of sophistication in the room was eating her. "And you? You look like a lawyer or some kind of teacher."
He arched an eyebrow, and tried not to think about how it looked now that they were so ghastly. "How did you guess? Well, actually, I'm a professor at Liberty University. I'm the stage director and choirmaster." Like his companion, he suddenly felt the glory of his job turn to shame.
The waitress reappeared with two glasses of merlot, and the Welshman was more than thankful to take the first sip to occupy his mouth. He made a mental note to yell at his mum for this later.
"I think it's the glasses." She said honestly after listening to his impressive... occupations. God... so many syllables.
She gratefully took the glass, pressed her lips delicately against the glass rim, and downed half of its contents in a few passing minutes. Nicoleta exhaled in content, glad that the strange and distorted taste of that tea was bleached away by the sweet taste of grape wine. "Oh wait, you work at that University? Hey, do you know... Ion and Miha?" She asked with an expectant glint before adding, "Mihailo, I mean - that's his full and dorky name - and he's a professor too."
"There are so many students and professors at that university that I scarcely meet anyone who isn't in the theatre or choir department." He removed his glasses and gently scrubbed at the frames with a fold in his shirt, blinking at the blurred image of the woman across from him. "Miha...ilo... sounds familiar. I think I've heard it around the faculty occasionally," he perched the frames back on his nose and grinned, "as for Ion, I've heard a housemate of mine talk about someone with that name. Alfred likes to blabber about his conspiracy theories, and he's after a boy named Ion for scratching his bike."
"Oh yeah he's the crazy math guy. Once you meet him you won't be able to forget him." Nicoleta softly simpered at the transparent memories that appeared in her head. Those were certainly good times.
"Ha!" She exclaimed with amusement, "You live with Jones? God, I can't believe he's still going on about that! Thought I got him to stop." And she hoped that he will because all evidence of such an event has been terminated. However, the 'going after' part didn't lick her the right way. Perhaps she should shake Alfred in person.
"Silly guy. Met him at Chueca. You'd laugh your ass off if you saw him drunk that time." It was a shame she didn't record it - she knew she should've. Going off topic a bit, she inquired, "You sure don't have the same accent as Jones. British or something?"
He visibly relaxed now that they had drifted into idle chatter. He took another sip of wine, and exchanged the second sip with the Earl Grey. "Yes, I do live with Jones. To my understanding, he's moving out to go live in an apartment with his brother, so once again I am alone with my half-brother Arthur."
Dewi made an effort to smile a little wider, thankful that she referred to him as 'British' and not 'English.' "I'm from Cardiff, Wales, actually; lived there all me life. I moved here 'bout two years ago. How about you? That's a very Eastern European accent."
"Didn't know he has a brother." She remarked as she played around with the rim of the cup with a finger idly. "Then again I dunno much 'bout him. But that's fun. Siblings." The topic that was brought fourth depressed her a tad; for she never really had any siblings or much of a family, rather.
She opened her mouth agape as she pondered on where in the world Wales is located. Nicoleta assumed that it is somewhere near England. "Oh. I see. Ah, da, I'm Romanian. I've been here for a year and is still adjusting."
The waitress waltzed over to the table with two trays, the heavier looking plate was nicely placed in front of Dewi before she poured that insipid liquid into his teacup (Nicoleta averted her eyes and washed the memory away by drinking more wine). The smell was absolutely divine in comparison to her rabbit's food. Finally using decorum, she nodded courteously at the waitress for the salad.
She let out a sigh (it being too ambiguous to tell whether she was disappointed or content) and then picked up her fork. "Here's to a good meal."
The Welshman made to reply to her statement on her nationality, but the smell of pub food silenced him for the sake of keeping his watering mouth from falling open with conversation. The waitress placed the gray-drowned meal before him, steam rose from his plate and fogged up his glasses. Dewi made haste to wipe his spectacles with backs of his sleeves.
"Here, here," he chimed in before carving at the end of the reddened meat with newfound vigor, munching thoughtfully on his meat for a good while before swallowing and helping the yorkshire pudding to a submerging bath in gravy. "I don't mean to pry, but - are you a vegetarian?" he asked, swallowing. "If so, I hope I am not offending you with my meat consumption."
Ruefully, she stabbed a couple of lettuces simultaneously before leading the fork to her mouth. Hmm... well the seasoning made it taste less unpleasant. In other words, it wasn't that bad but she'd prefer a slack of meat over salad any day. She distracted herself from eating by taking interest in Dewi's words.
Her lips curved into a smile as she swallowed the vegetables. She laughed loudly in amusement, earning a couple of glances at their way. Relieving her mirth in a sigh, she explained, "No no. God would be surprised if I am. Actually, it's a Romanian tradition to not eat any meat and animal-related stuff until the 24th - it's called fasting. So no no, I'm jealous but not offended."
He couldn't help but laugh with her - not because it was amusing, but because it was absolutely incredulous. "I wish I could put half the commitment you have for this Romanian tradition toward anything!" As he placed another piece of meat on his tongue, the guilt of being an object of his 'date's' jealousy made it taste half as good as the previous bite, and the trend continued until it tasted no different than chalk. He moved onto the Yorkshire pudding, which tasted like chalk to begin with until drowned in meat gravy. "You must be looking very forward to Christmas, then. Have you any plans for the holiday?"
She chuckled at his remark, her mirth quieted down but it was still somewhere there. "Ha. It's a pretty fucking crazy tradition. My mom used to be real strict about this tradition." Nicoleta's smile crumbled into a pallid state as her cheek muscles relaxed. She chewed on a couple of crisp leaves as she briefly dwelled on a quaint memory.
"Uh yes." The woman replied vacantly, "Going to eat a shit load of meat. Get wasted. Party, of course." Then she tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear before adding, "Well... and send a letter to the family I guess. Still gotta go to church and all that." She didn't want to mention her little goodwill volunteer at the soup kitchen - too much good. "And you? Going to drink and stuff with Jones, da? I really have no idea how you Brits party besides drink tea and eat those biscuits." She took a sip of wine with a little smug.
"Dewi, meet me at the Kob & Dance Pub on Baker Street at 5. Love, Mum Yeah, right, Mum. You probably wanted me out of the house so I could keep you from picking on Arthur." He sank into his chair, crumbling the note between his fingers and palm, and caught a figure in the corner of his eye. She coughed to get his attention. Ah, the waitress - finally. "Hello, love, would you mind fetching me another cuppa?"
His knit his brows and met her gaze with a mouth slightly agape. He pushed his wrist against the bridge of his nose to push his glasses up. "Pardon? How do you know my mum?"
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"Oh uh. Your mother told me to meet you here and get to know you or something." She replied naturally as she sat down in the chair across from Dewi. A little voice in her head muttered, "And get free food."
"Sorry about being late. Traffic problems." Nicoleta flashed a rare sheepish smile to cover her poorly executed lie. It has been quite a while since she has apologized as well; it felt strange.
Once she settled herself, she took a moment to scrutinize the man's face in a conspicuous manner, tilting her head only slightly to get an angle. Whoa, the baby fat isn't there but he sure resemble that baby picture; it is no wonder that it was him! His mommy was right: he is quite the catch! His face was practically dripping with goodness and sophistication that gang members would love to beat up!
"Oh, my name is Nicoleta by the way. Did you order anything yet?"
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"Hello, Nicoleta," he mustered a brilliant smile that shone even in his green eyes; his newly thickened eyebrows peered from behind the frames of his glasses. "I'm sure me mum's already told you that I'm Dewi. I'm terribly sorry that she's dragged you into this, but - might I ask what for?" He brushed his fingers over the handle of the teacup. "Only tea. I thought it rude to order before... mum, arrived, but... do feel free to order whatever you'd like."
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Strange, she never got the chance to drink tea before. One sip and it tasted like oddly flavored water. She swallowed it with much disdain, wanting to gag during that instant. Hastily, after returning the cup back to its little saucer thing, she croaked between her coughs, "Ack... Can you order wine or something?"
It would be silly for an outsider to know that Nicoleta, the great alcohol consumer, can't even take a meager drip of tea. Her friends would laugh at her if they hear about this - no, if they get a whiff of her being as dorky as this, then she'd get picked on forever! She flushed and then grabbed the menu to occupy herself. Unfortunately, her timing slipped off as a waitress appeared and politely asked what they would like for dinner.
God fucking dammit, she still can't eat meat. She'll have to order a sissy salad then because the pressure was getting into her. "Fuck... I mean, I'll get a salad. The tangerine salad thing but don't put in any chicken or butter or anything animal related!" The waitress appeared confounded but didn't question her and then scribbled down whatever notes on her notepad. Well, at least it is pretty cheap.
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The Welshman sank a little, unnoticed into his chair, clutching the cold teacup with both hands as it if kept his fingers warm. The waitress scribbled down his "date's" order - so she's a vegetarian - and then she turned to Dewi. "Hello, love, I'll be having another earl grey, and a serving of roast beef and yorkshire pudding to eat - oh, and can you get a glass of the house red for the lady, please."
She gave the "couple" a nod and scurried off. The moment she vanished behind the kitchen doors, Dewi wished she were still here to occupy his gaze. He met Nicoleta's eyes again. "Yes, indeed, well... what do you do for a living?"
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As she returned the menu, the muscle under her eye twitched after hearing the man's order. R-Roast beef. Damn, there was no such tradition as fasting at this period, she would strangle and gut a cow with her own hands and then cook it over a slow fire. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. The Romanian woman gulped to maintain her composure.
Her eyes fluttered, brushing away her murderous lust for beef and stared at the other guy. "Oh I'm a bartender at Chueca," She said proudly before not feeling as proud a second later. Ugh the level of sophistication in the room was eating her. "And you? You look like a lawyer or some kind of teacher."
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The waitress reappeared with two glasses of merlot, and the Welshman was more than thankful to take the first sip to occupy his mouth. He made a mental note to yell at his mum for this later.
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She gratefully took the glass, pressed her lips delicately against the glass rim, and downed half of its contents in a few passing minutes. Nicoleta exhaled in content, glad that the strange and distorted taste of that tea was bleached away by the sweet taste of grape wine. "Oh wait, you work at that University? Hey, do you know... Ion and Miha?" She asked with an expectant glint before adding, "Mihailo, I mean - that's his full and dorky name - and he's a professor too."
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"Ha!" She exclaimed with amusement, "You live with Jones? God, I can't believe he's still going on about that! Thought I got him to stop." And she hoped that he will because all evidence of such an event has been terminated. However, the 'going after' part didn't lick her the right way. Perhaps she should shake Alfred in person.
"Silly guy. Met him at Chueca. You'd laugh your ass off if you saw him drunk that time." It was a shame she didn't record it - she knew she should've. Going off topic a bit, she inquired, "You sure don't have the same accent as Jones. British or something?"
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Dewi made an effort to smile a little wider, thankful that she referred to him as 'British' and not 'English.' "I'm from Cardiff, Wales, actually; lived there all me life. I moved here 'bout two years ago. How about you? That's a very Eastern European accent."
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She opened her mouth agape as she pondered on where in the world Wales is located. Nicoleta assumed that it is somewhere near England. "Oh. I see. Ah, da, I'm Romanian. I've been here for a year and is still adjusting."
The waitress waltzed over to the table with two trays, the heavier looking plate was nicely placed in front of Dewi before she poured that insipid liquid into his teacup (Nicoleta averted her eyes and washed the memory away by drinking more wine). The smell was absolutely divine in comparison to her rabbit's food. Finally using decorum, she nodded courteously at the waitress for the salad.
She let out a sigh (it being too ambiguous to tell whether she was disappointed or content) and then picked up her fork. "Here's to a good meal."
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"Here, here," he chimed in before carving at the end of the reddened meat with newfound vigor, munching thoughtfully on his meat for a good while before swallowing and helping the yorkshire pudding to a submerging bath in gravy. "I don't mean to pry, but - are you a vegetarian?" he asked, swallowing. "If so, I hope I am not offending you with my meat consumption."
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Her lips curved into a smile as she swallowed the vegetables. She laughed loudly in amusement, earning a couple of glances at their way. Relieving her mirth in a sigh, she explained, "No no. God would be surprised if I am. Actually, it's a Romanian tradition to not eat any meat and animal-related stuff until the 24th - it's called fasting. So no no, I'm jealous but not offended."
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"Uh yes." The woman replied vacantly, "Going to eat a shit load of meat. Get wasted. Party, of course." Then she tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear before adding, "Well... and send a letter to the family I guess. Still gotta go to church and all that." She didn't want to mention her little goodwill volunteer at the soup kitchen - too much good. "And you? Going to drink and stuff with Jones, da? I really have no idea how you Brits party besides drink tea and eat those biscuits." She took a sip of wine with a little smug.
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