Jason's Flat (Now Belonging to Naminé and Valentine), Brighton, UK - Saturday Evening

[palestshadow]

Fancy restaurants tended to book early for romantic holidays, more so when that date also fell upon a weekend. It was, therefore, quite fortunate that Naminé had thought to call two months in advance, in order to get a table for tonight at that chic new place with the very elegant atmosphere

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[importantman]

"You know," Valentine mused as he stepped through the door, pulling the styrofoam to-go container from the plastic bag that the restaurant had given them and rifling through it for the last few bites of chicken within, "I don't think that waiter particularly liked me."

Just because he'd pointed out that the fork was dirty and the service was taking entirely too long and, was he aware that he was serving a very important man and a very, very important woman? Honestly.

Bojangles barked, and Valentine relented, kneeing over and offering the meat to the puppy. Aw, puppy.

"But the food was excellent. How did you manage to get reservations, anyhow?"

[palestshadow]

"I called quite a while ago," Naminé smiled, thoroughly pleased with herself. "And the waiter didn't like you because you were rude. I don't go into other bookstores and criticize the poor categorizations, you know."

[importantman]

"You don't eat the books, either," Valentine reminded her ever-so-helpfully. "I've worked busy days before, myself, you know. There's never any excuse for dirty silverware, and even if there was one, he shouldn't have looked at me oddly for using my fingers."

Fingers were perfectly acceptable while eating French onion soup. Really.

[palestshadow]

"Using your fingers was making a mess," Naminé noted. "Messes aren't encouraged in nice restaurants. Behave next time, or I'll go by myself and you'll wish you were eating books."

[importantman]

"I'm hardly a sphinx. I don't even have to catch the books, here," Valentine sniffed. "It takes all of the excitement out of it, really."

And then he was all smiles all over again and pulling out some more chicken for Bojangles.

"But I suppose I can avoid making a mess, next time. It was a very nice dinner, after all."

[palestshadow]

Bojangles, for his part, supposed that the joy of getting nomnomnomchicken made up for the horrible trauma of them leaving the house for a few hours and him being alllllllll alone.

"It was very nice," she smiled. "When one's boyfriend has his very own holiday, it calls for something particularly festive, you know."