A Love Already Blossomed

Chapter 10

"That is brilliant! Did they pay you reasonably?" Philippe questioned.

"Of course they did. The pay was perfect, and it was also really enjoyable working there." Another lie. Though the pay was indeed good, it was not at all enjoyable working there. The only time it was enjoyable was when Erik was around.

"Great. And what did you do when that terrible trashed happened and the opera house closed?"

"I moved to another town and became a maid for a very important composer. I still live in Paris, however," Y/N stated, twisting the truth just a little bit.

"I see. From my observations, the pay is considerable," Philippe spoke with a questioning tone to his voice, motioning to Y/N 's dress.

"Yes it is. I love working there, too."

"I'm glad to hear it."

A silence filled the space around them, while the distant lull of voices was still audible. Philippe looked at Y/N while she adjusted the silverware, very much aware of Philippe's intense and lust-filled gaze. She was beginning to sweat now, glistening drops gliding down her back and neck, the drops not brave enough to slide down her face. She soon became impatient for the waiter to come and end this awkward situation and put and end to this dinner all the sooner.

Y/N shifted her gaze to the menu, sweeping her eyes across the long words written in calligraphy. Everything was written in many lengthy letters, making every food item look like it was something truly special. The food was described way to much, using at least five words to say what each food item is. Y/N groaned inwardly and glided her eyes reluctantly back to Philippe.

"So, what have you been doing lately, Philippe?" Y/N asked.

Philippe quickly snapped out of his daze and turned his attention back to Y/N's words. "Erm... well, I have been traveling very much, and I have been working with my father to restore peace, for the most part, into each country we visited. I was doing that until I decided to move back to Paris, my home town," Philippe told Y/N.

"Interesting," Y/N lied yet again. "Why did you decide to move back to Paris?"

"I just felt like I needed one real home, not some place-" Philippe was cut off by the waiter's footsteps. The waiter was a man (the waiters of that era were mostly men...or so I picture it) and had a balding head of black hair with a few streaks of white, a very formal suit of yellow, white, and black, the coat of which had tails in the back with small buttons where each tail began. He had a napkin in the breast pocket of his coat and a gold chain across his mid-section. The chain formed into two loops which met at the middle, where it was secured into a button. This chain connected to a pocket watch, which was in the pocket of his vest.

When the tall, skinny man approached, he said: "Hello. Would you like anything to drink?"

Philippe looked at the waiter. "Yes please. I would like to have water please," he instructed.

"I would also like to have a water, please," Y/N said.

"Alright," the waiter said. "I will get those orders in for you."

Philippe then reached out an arm to stop the waiter from leaving. "We are also ready to order," he informed.

The waiter smiled and asked: "What may I get to eat for you two this evening?"