Candle in The night (completed)

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Take a look at the pic, it's for a part of the story ;) -love X
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When his car finally stopped in front of the restaurant, I couldn't stop myself from almost running out to see where we were.
The wall were lightened by red neon, and it was written it was a French restaurant. I was immediately excited as it was the first time I would eat in a French restaurant.

Alexander surprisingly opened the door and help it for me to come in. I gave him a small smile before coming in, looking around. It was all in cream and red colours, classic and chic, maybe even glamorous.
Covers of French fashion magazines such as Vogue, Elle or Marie Claire were all over the walls with black and white pictures of Paris, all framed individually.

I kind of felt in love with the place, because no matter how chic it was, it was also warm and welcoming. And the decor were the coolest, specially one picture I fell in love with. It was an old picture of Paris, under a bridge, where you could see people in their twenties, happily dancing. If you look carefully, you could see people watching them on top of the bridge.
I had no idea why I loved this picture so much. Probably because of the happiness that came from it, it was an eternal happiness captured at the perfect moment.

I took a sit in front of Alexander, turning my attention back to him as the waitress came to give us the menus. The only problem were that it was all in French, and I was studying Spanish at school.
Alexander must have seen my face falling because he chuckled before taking my menu away from me. He closed his as well and tried to repress the mocking smile coming on his face.

- Aren't you learning French? He asked amused.

- Nope, I admitted sheepishly. I chose Spanish instead.

- Don't you like French? He asked curious.

- it's a nice language, I admitted honestly. But really complicated. And I'm way to lazy to choose it, because it would mean even more homework.

He chuckled once again a looked me straight in the eyes, something sparkling in them.

- I didn't think French is complicated, he stated.

- That's because you must have never showed up at the lessons, I commented shrugging.

- I didn't, he admitted laughing lightly, letting me see his gorgeous smile. But I don't think I needed to anyway.

- Presumptuous, aren't you? I asked sarcastically.

- No, honest, he said with a confident look.

Another waitress came, asking us in French, leaving me lost. I guess Alexander understood as he replied in a perfect French, leaving me speechless. They talked a little bit before he gave her the menus back and she left.
I was now starting at him, wide-eyes and I couldn't help it. Another smirk took place in his face as he gave me a triumphant look, making me froze once again in front of his charm. Why did he have to be attractive?

- Did I told you I was French? I asked cockily.

- That's properly impossible, you don't have any accent, I disagreed with him.

- I worked on it a lot, he explained. And I've lived in England since I was nine.

- But... Nothing French about you, I said in disbelief. Not even you first name!

- My first name is Alexandre, he explained me. I always introduced myself as Alex and people called me Alexander by deduction.

I nodded, not sure what to say, but I now understood why he took me in a French restaurant. I found it really cool that he were bilingual, and I wouldn't had expected it from him.

I turned my head back to the picture I loved and tried to hide my discomfort.

- Have you ever been to France ever since you moved in UK? I asked curious.

- Only once or twice to see my grandparents, he explained. Do you like it?

I turned my head toward him, not understanding what he were talking about. He pointed to the picture with his chin and asked again.

- Do you like it?

- Yes... It's a pretty picture, I simply admitted.

The meal came not too long after and we started eating, talking about random things. It was actually a nice diner, Alexander, or Alexandre, as you wish, was being nice, polite and rather talkative for once. He was completely different from the Alexander I knew at the gym and street fight. He was almost sociable, and even tried a few jokes that made me laugh.
I would have never guessed that he had this side of his personality, and I was impressed. I wasn't the most sociable and talkative person myself, but I tried, not like him. But tonight were an exception. He were relaxed, chilled and comfortable, and it felt natural for the both of us.

The food were delicious, and every bit were to die for. The waitress called it "magret de canard avec sa sauce à l'abricot et gratin dauphinois" which made no sense for me, but I enjoyed it anyway. Alexander told me it was duck with apricot and scalloped potatoes, and I was literally melting every time I chew something. I weren't a food addict, but I always knew how to appreciate a good meal when I had one, and this one was one of the best I've ever had.

- Can I ask you a question? He asked me at some point.

- Yes, sure, I said.

- Why didn't you fought back that night? He asked in a low voice. Because I know you can fight and that you did competitions.

- I... I don't fight anymore, I said softly.

- Is it because of your brother? He asked.

- How do you know? I asked freezing on my chair.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins and it felt like being pushed in cold water. A shiver ran down my back as I tried to repress it, without a lot of success. I didn't told anyone about him, or about what happened. No one knew, not even my old friends back in my hometown. It was a secret my family wisely kept to herself. It was something too painful, too recent, too heartbreaking.
It even was one of the reasons why we moved out to London, that, and my mother's promotion. It was something we didn't even talked about together, at diner time or anything like that. It was something we kept in memory, but remained silent about.

That fact that he knew about it was one of the scariest thing I've heard in my life, like I got caught by the police during a holdup. I was feeling guilty and ashamed for no reason, and I felt like I was exposed and weak.
Him, on the other hand, we're looking at me with a look of what seemed to be compassion, and understanding.

- I asked a few friends about you, but they didn't told me much, he said trying to reassure me. I don't know what happened.

- What else do you know about me? I questioned suspicious and angry.

- Nothing much, he said trying to hide his guilt and lies.

- Tell me what you know, I said through clenched teeth, enhancing each word.

He looked to his hands before looking back at me, his face now blank once again. I instantly knew he didn't liked the way I talked to him, but I couldn't care less. Because at the moment, he were the guilty one, he were the one intruding my private life. And I could not let this go.

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Hiiiiiiiiiiiii
What do you think?
Is this diner interesting?
Do you agree with me to say it is an awkward date? 😂
Let me know in a comment!
Love X