All the Aches in the World

Chapter 7 : La Armonía

He knew Chicago well, having grown up there and spent his whole life amongst the towering buildings and occasional tourists. He's been to every bar and restaurant and pub and club, in the city, every place he could go to waste his nights away, and he's never been to this palace.

La Armonía was the it restaurant. It was the place where all millionaires dined. Where all big shot CEO's spent their evenings drinking whisky and talking about their mistresses. You'd have to book a reservation months in advance, or be ready with a stack of money to slide over the counter. While Elliot had the status and the money to eat at a place like that, it never interested me. If anything, it deterred him as far away as possible. He liked the busy places where he could lose himself for hours on end, indulge in the simple life. He liked the crowds and getting lost in them, the rowdy and rambunctious places the made him forget about the frustrations of his real life.

Even though La Armonía was always busy, it had a different vibe than the clubs he frequented. But, he couldn't imagine going back to those clubs. He didn't think he would ever want to hear that music ever again, feel that bass thrumming in his veins. Have that total body shut down that only the rush of total chaotic community could bring.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the rising panic in his body, opening them a few minutes later to Hunter's low voice.

"Wait here." His voice was soft, like the rain pattering against the windows until the door slammed shut behind him. Elliot watched through the blurriness as he rounded the car, stopping under the canopy leaning out from the entrance to the restaurant. He spoke briefly with one of the boys handling the valet, gesturing to the car before nodding, handing over the keys.

Hunter came back, the valet boy rounding to the driver's side as Hunter opened the passenger door. Hand outstretched towards Elliot, the other one holding the umbrella steady.

What the hell is going on? Why is he standing there, offering his hand like some kindly prince in a cheesy rom-com movie?

Something flashed from the other side of the car. What he thought was lightning at first was actually the flash from a camera.

Paparazzi.

Capturing the moment his hand slid into Hunter's, and him being pulled from the car.

The valet boy was already in the driver's seat, pulling the car away the second Hunter closed the door shut.

Elliot pulled his hand out of Hunter's, keeping his head down in hopes to block his face from the cameras. Hunter kept his back straight, head held high, and a hand placed on the shorter's lower back as he steered them into the building.

It was bigger on the inside, more so than he expected. The tall ceiling with hanging chandeliers and a balcony circling the floor above. Chatter clustered all the open space between the tables scattered across the floor. Well-tailored waiters and waitresses passed by with trained smiles and trays of food and drinks. A desk sat on the right, a woman with dark red hair thrown strategically messy atop her head glanced up at them at their approach.

"Reservation for Morgan."

The woman's eyes lingered on Hunter, recognition shining in her eyes alongside some admiration and something entirely inappropriate for a stranger. She ogled for a few seconds too long and something piercingly hot rumbled in Elliot's core. Hunter shifted from beside him. The brunet suddenly took a step forward, arm brushing against Hunter's. He could feel the blond turn to look down at him, but he kept his eyes on the hostess. She turned to look at Elliot before clearing her throat, confirming the reservation and turning to take them to their seat, all with flaming red in her cheeks.