Daemon paced coolly down the cobblestone street, the cold air kissing his bare neck. It was 7.30 in the evening and he was expecting a date at a nearby restaurant. He was not sure what to expect of his company, it being a blind date. Slicking his hair back, he entered the restaurant, his heels clicking as he walked slowly towards the reception. A sigh of relief escaped him as he was enveloped in the warmth of the place; much preferable to the cold, harsh weather outside.
“Table pour deux, s’il vous plait. For Daemon John-Scott and company,” the Englishman intoned in his usual velvety baritone, as a waiter showed him to his seat. The atmosphere of the place was satisfactory, the rustic countryside feeling unique to the area.

He ordered a glass of wine as he waited patiently for his date. The service here was quick, as his order appeared not long after. Taking a sip of his wine, he tried to calm the anxiety and excitement bubbling in his throat, as it was not fitting of the respectable Englishman that he was.

It had been an hour since Daemon had arrived at the restaurant, and his date had still not arrived. Daemon was getting impatient; he had already downed a whole bottle of wine and was getting restless.
The pace of the restaurant began to slow a little as the patrons had nearly finished their courses. Daemon, on the other hand, was still anticipating the arrival of the phantom date, who was, apparently,taking her sweet time to get here. Although he did not mind it that much, it was a little worrying to know that his possible partner was going to be such a late person.
The door opened, its bell signalling a new entry. He squinted through his glasses, the shortsightedness of his hindering him from revealing her identity. He could only make out a green dress, and somewhat wet hair. Evidently, it had started raining and he had not known. He recognised the card that she presented to the waiter, as it was the one which he had sent to the still currently anonymous date.
The waiter led the woman to his table, and Daemon could finally take a good look at her face. While it was not of unparalled beauty, Daemon could appreciate her simplistic style. Her green eyes were made more obvious by her equally green dress, and her eyelashes were long, her cheekbones sharp. Her cascading black hair was sleek and soft-looking. Daemon only realised he was staring when the woman in question cleared her throat meekly, looking embarassed.
“Please don’t stare at me,” her voice was soft, warm. “I get embarrassed easily.”
“Aah yes. Of course. Do take a seat,” Daemon gave an equally gentle reply. He helped her into her chair, returning to his as the waiter began to place the menu cards on the table. Daemon peeked at her from behind the card, taking quick glances at the selection of fine cuisine offered at the restaurant. Making his choice, the card was placed back onto the cold table, the lone rose giving the atmosphere between the two people a tinge of romance.

About haziqfoxayy

Full time student. Part time wandering fox and storyteller.
This entry was posted in Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s