Ti Amo [Discontinued]

Eight

Warnings: food, alcohol mentions, swearing, vomit, a tiny french child, medication, periods

"I'm being stared at," Evelyn complained. "Why does is matter to that tiny child that I ordered lasagne?"

Charlie pushed his knife and fork together on his empty plate and leaned back in his chair, grinning at Evelyn. "I think he's just jealous."

"Shouldn't have ordered spaghetti, then."

Charlie let out a laugh, and the parents of the 'tiny child' turned around and gave the pair a dirty look. Charlie only laughed harder.

The child climbed down from his seat, ignoring his mother's angry cry, and toddled up to Evelyn. He tapped at her leg, and waited until she looked at him.

"Excuse moi," the child whispered, "j'adore ta jupe. C'est très belle."

Evelyn looked at Charlie. "I don't speak French," she hissed. Charlie nodded and looked at the boy.

"Merci beaucoup. Elle ne parle pas de Français, mais elle est... heureuse." He clicked his fingers. "I forgot the word for happy."

"I have no idea!" Evelyn groaned. "What did he even say?"

"He likes your skirt. He thinks it's very pretty."

"How do I say thank you?"

"'Merci'," Charlie instructed. Evelyn repeated the word hesitantly, and the face of the child next to her lit up.

"Je suis désolé, je parle un peu français. C'est difficile," Charlie explained. The boy nodded, smiled, thanked them, and left. His parents didn't seem pleased that he'd gone to talk to a random couple, but they didn't cause a scene.

The spout of French from the parents had Charlie looking confused, but he ignored it in favour of Evelyn. She smiled at him, and continued to eat her lasagne- which was getting cold.

"You want a drink?" Charlie asked. "I can get you a coke or something."

"Lemonade, please."

"Would it upset you if I got myself a wine with dessert?" Charlie almost seemed hesitant to ask. Evelyn wasn't going to be upset that he could drink and he couldn't- why would she be upset over something as small as that?

"Of course not. Knock yourself out."

"You do still want dessert, right?"

"Of course," Evelyn my.bled through a mouth of beef mince. "Especially if it's caramel. Ooh, is there caramel cheesecake? That's literally the best fu-" She glanced at the child on the table next to them and stopped herself. "The best thing. I love it."

Charlie let out another of his ridiculously loud laughs, and leaned back in his chair, ignoring the questioning stares. Evelyn, however, cringed under them, hoping they would stop looking, for fuck sake, it's making me anxious.

The gazes turned away from her, and she pushed her knife and fork together next to her unfinished lasagne. Charlie nodded towards it quizzically, and it took Evelyn a second to realise what he meant.

"It got cold," she mumbled. "Sorry."

"Don't worry, we can order pizza or something when we get back. Do you want the cheesecake? They don't have a caramel one, but the lemon one is just as good," Charlie offered.

"I'm okay," Evelyn declined, "but I'm not objecting if you're going to have one. You're paying, right?"

"Of course," Charlie confirmed. "I made enough this week to do so."