A Promise Of Romance (MewGulf AU)

🌞Chapter 17🌻

🌞🌻

That night, when they'd gotten back to Mew's apartment, Gulf was feeling playful. He changed into something fancy and put on some padded lingerie, a wig and some make up. His experience with cross-dressing in the drama club was really coming in handy. And he was finally wearing something appropriate for his age. When he was finished, he and Mew once more locked arms and went to see a new opera piece at the Royal Opera. Afterwards, they had dinner at the Cafe Royal. A very old restaurant which, before it opened in the 19th century, had served as an important meeting place and host to historical events.

Mew once again ordered expensive wine, and Gulf ate dove breast for the first time in his life.

Having spent the entire day with Mew, Gulf felt he had misjudged the man earlier. Mew wasn't the bad person he had first thought, and the man wasn't even all that strange. He listened attentively to everything Gulf said and went to great lengths to prevent Gulf from getting bored. If pressed to name a fault, Gulf would say that maybe Mew was too rich. During the shopping today, Mew's freedom with his money had honestly shocked Gulf.

After they finished dessert, a waiter brought them coffee.

Mew solemnly took out a ring---the heirloom.

"I had the size adjusted to fit you." He took Gulf's hand and slipped the ring onto a finger while Gulf stared in surprise. It fit his ring finger perfectly. "I'm proposing again." Mew smiled. This was a performance to shame the professionals.

Gulf smiled back, rising to the challenge. "I'm so happy."

"I'm glad it pleases you," Mew said, squeezing Gulf's hand.

The man saying these things to him was a handsome man. A woman would have started dancing in Gulf's place. And maybe it was the fault of the wine he had drunk, but Gulf's pulse quickened a little, too.

When the meal ended and they stood up, Gulf realized that the wine had affected him more than he had thought. Combined with the unfamiliar shoes, he began to stagger and was in no condition to walk without support. He and Mew linked arms once more and left the restaurant.

A bright flash of light blinded Gulf and he heard the sound of camera shutter whirring. He was momentarily stunned.

"Good evening, Lord Jongcheveevat," a voice greeted.

A woman appeared out of the darkness, a camera slung around her neck. She seemed to be in her mid-30s. Her copper-colored hair was tied back sloppily and she wore no make up. She was also dressed very casually in slacks and a jacket.

"Good evening, Ms. Mostern. Still as dedicated to your work as ever, I see." Mew smiled. The two seemed to know each other. "I just wish you'd said something before taking the picture."

"I'm sorry. But you certainly seem to be in a good mood tonight. Have you heard some good news?"

A deliberate smile twitched across her face. Her eyes fell on the ring on Gulf's finger. "Why, a ring!" Gulf tried to hide his left hand, but the damage had been done. "The Jongcheveevat family ring! Does this mean tha you've finally picked the one?" She seemed to know what the ring meant.

"Please don't be so tactless," Mew reprimanded softly. "I've just proposed today."

Ms. Morten smiled. "Well congratulations! She's a lovely girl. What's your name, dear?"

Gulf hesitated then responded defiantly. "Kana."

Kana is the name he always use in his school when he dress-up as a girl.

"Kana? Are you Chinese?"

Mew cut the woman off. "I'm terribly sorry, but we've got somewhere to be. We must be going. If you want to do a real interview some time, I'll answer any questions you might have."

"I apologize," Ms. Mostern said, backing down. "But this is wonderful news. I'd like to write about it, if I may. I'll send you a copy."

"Right." Mew threw out the disinterested response and hailed a cab passing by the restaurant.

"The Hotel Claridge in Mayfair," he said to the driver through the window. This was part of the experience of taking a London taxi, you had to negotiate the destination before getting in.

The driver nodded, so Mew helped Gulf in, then got into the taxi himself.

"Have a wonderful evening." The woman, who heard the hotel name, smiled meaningfully as the two drove off.

"Who was that woman?" Gulf asked.

"A society page journalist for a tabloid," Mew answered.

"Do things like that happen to you often?"

"Once in a while," Mew said, glancing at Gulf. His answer seemed highly suspicious. "Gulf, I really did want to take you back to your apartment," he said apologetically, "but will you stay with me at the hotel tonight, in case that reporter is watching?"

Gulf nodded. If they were being followed and Mew dropped him off at his apartment, the reporter would easily find out Gulf's true identity and everything would be over. Anyway, tomorrow is Sunday, so he didn't need to go home.

TBC