One by one the chairs in front of the improvised stage were emptying. At first the people formed small groups to chat for a while. She clearly heard the laughter and the murmur of each small group. Islands in the ocean. Then gradually the occupants began to leave the place alone or in pairs, chatting amiably about the different amounts bidden and how much would help the Frisbee team. Everyone seemed happy. All but Celeste, who was still sitting in the same place she in front of the stage. The very place she occupied during the entire evening. Her eyes penetrated the empty space with rage, she was one of the few who had not received a single bid. Even worse than that was the fact that she could not cheat. The auction ended so suddenly she could not ask for help from her bodyguard to not end in zero.
In her meditation, she found two very important questions that she can not answer. The first, she wanted to know why no one choose her. The reasons for picking her in a date were in sight. She was beautiful, intelligent, rich, an not a mutant. The reasons not to pick up her remained a mystery. Her second silent question was less important. Much less personal. Still, just as mysterious. How much money is needed to form a Frisbee team? She knew that for other sports it would take much more money. Such as for horse riding and Polo were needed much equipment, a horse and money to keep all that. Even art needed a huge amount of money. Music was no exception. She thought of a piano or a violin, but any instrument should be worth more than a whole Frisbee team.

Celeste suspected that the premature end of the event had been an elaborate plot against her. There was not another reason why she was alone. She was one of the best bets, even with only 14 years she surpassed in beauty all the other girls that were presented. It was clear that mutants, which were plentiful in the crowd, had a very different taste. Yes, that´s why. She was beautiful, their mutant eyes did not let them to see that her external beauty was as great as her inner beauty. Or so said the girl. With a sigh, she stood up slowly. Feeling defeated. Delaying the return as much as possible. Walking slowly, and hesitating at every step. Her dress of liquid silver shone while receiving light, and did so again with every movement. Instead of heading to the exit, where her bodyguards were waiting, she approached a table where there were still several untouched glasses of juice. The girl picked one of them without much enthusiasm and swallow its content. It was warm. And the taste was disgusting.
Full of frustration she let out a long sigh, and wonder aloud, obviously without waiting for a response. "Am I not pretty enough?" Her dark eyes full of reproach, searching for answers in her orange drink.

OOC: To all people whose character I moved around a bit, please let me know if it does not suit.

The end of the valentine’s auction ended up being a bit of a blur. Sam had accompanied Michael to his station and they had studied the name of the person that had bid for him. As it turned out neither of them knew Maxine and they had spent some time trying to see if they could pick her out of the crowd. However the suspense had been short for Kat quickly began to call an end to the bidding. This was the moment Sam had planned to use to go and bid on Celeste, but that was not to be because the mysterious Maxine had made an appearance.

Sam had not felt able to leave Michael with this woman he didn’t know. Sure she seemed nice enough but it was important to make sure that Michael felt comfortable with her before leaving the two of them together. So he had stayed and made polite conversation for a while, trying to bring on topics of conversation that Michael would pick up on. And then the moment he had been fearing appeared, the announcement that the bidding was now closed and the very public explanation of the results. He caught a glimpse of Celeste out of the corner of his eye, she had not moved from her seat. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, not even she deserved to be completely ignored.
When he was finally able to free himself of Michael and Maxine he started to make his way over to Celeste and then stopped. He had a sudden vision of him striding up there all smile and her letting loose all the anger she had no doubt stored up at him in one fell blow. So instead he went and sat on a corner of the stage where he could watch her quietly. He would wait to see what she would do next and then try and match his movements accordingly.

As it turned out she just sat there for a very long time, staring into space. Sam had to admit that he was somewhat surprised by this, he had pretty much expected her to storm off as soon as it was revealed that no one had bid on her. This time however, she just seemed frozen maybe the shock of it had been too much for her… And so the illusion mutant watched as the room emptied and the ice princess continued to sit on her throne. It was not until even Kat, who shot them a very bewildered glance, had packed up her things and left that finally Celeste moved.

She climbed down off the stage, with that silly dress of hers shimmering the whole time and walked slowly over to the drinks table. Sam turned slowly so that he could keep watching her. She picked up one of the juice cup and drank it; he could see from the look on her face that she immediately regretted that decision. He was getting quiet tempted to just let her go, she would get over this embarrassment and he was not sure he would not make things worse by letting her know that he had witnessed the whole thing.

"Am I not pretty enough?"

She was asking the cup of juice but Sam knew that it held no answers. He was not sure he held any answers either but he felt bad for her. However there was still in his head a small part of him that rejoiced at the fact that she had been humbled in this way; it felt like a “how the mighty have fallen” moment. But no matter how deserved this might be, he could not bear to just leave her like that.

“I’m not sure that glass of juice can answer that question.”

There he had given himself away but at least now if she yelled at him there would be no one around to witness it.

Surprised by the male voice that emerged from nowhere, the girl jumped in her place so hard that almost threw the orange juice in which she was drowning her sorrows. Her face quickly went from sadness to anger in a second. Her delicate features converted into a porcelain mask. Cold and hard.
She looked up to find the culprit, clearly annoyed by the little joke that almost caused her a heart attack. She did not need to look far. The culprit was right in front of her. When she recognized the familiar face, all her anger had disappeared to be replaced almost immediately by shame. Her blood quickly rose to her cheeks, forming a deep blush. She was assumed that no one was there. No one to see her stripped of all her glory. No one to see she was sad and depressed.

She had not seen Sam since their chance meeting in the store. His presence surprised her. This surprise reflected in her face, and also in the little smile of greeting that formed on her lips. She knew nothing of him since the day they met, the same day he made her cry for telling her the world was not what she thought. That day seemed so far away, all her memories of that week were blurred and confused. She could hardly remember what had happened exactly. She just remember crying and then sworn revenge. Her terrible revenge never came. She had a heart.
And even though the incident appeared to have occurred years ago, it had been only a couple of weeks ago.

Among the colorful crowd, Celeste never saw Sam. Surrounded by so many mutants, it was difficult to spot a human being... But if Sam lived there, clearly he was a mutant.
It was extremely easy for her to forget that Sam was one of them. His clear lack of horns, wings, tail and blazing eyes helped to hide that fact. Following that line of thought, it was easy for her to forget that he lived there. In the mutant mansion. If someone had to explain why to be there, it was her. So she began explaining it. "I came for the auction but I had no luck." The girl clarified, trying to spend a bright smile for him. Her lips ended forming a sad smile. A little crooked smile that refused to feign happiness.

Her melancholy eyes deposited again on the homogeneous orange juice surface. While her voice, small and lonely, made a very important question. "How are you?" The question hold many things she wanted to know about her new and perhaps only friend. There was a very important duality in that question. She needed to know whether or not she was angry with her, yet did not want to know the answer for fear of facing a hard reality.
Her gaze was still fixed on the inside of the glass, staring at the magic genie that was going to answer her question. Unsure, she kept her eyes on the beautiful color she could not steal. Far from his eyes. Sam could be or could not be looking at her accusatory.

It appeared that Celeste had not realized that someone else was still in the room as she jumped a mile as he spoke. Now that he thought about it he should have known he would scare her as it was obvious because she would never have let herself look so depressed if she thought someone might see her. He did however have to stifle a bit of a laugh, he knew it was mean but he rather enjoyed watching her look so shocked. Somehow it made her look more normal, like something any teenage girl would do. There was such a large difference in her demeanor between moments when she was in public and those when she thought she was alone.

But the mask did not slip for long, when she turned to face him she was wearing the expression he had been expecting. Cool, calm, composed loathing. He was about to tell her that there was no need to glare at him like that when her expression melted into something softer. It was not as if she had taken off her “miss high and mighty” face but the anger had gone from it. Sam had to admit that he was at once relieved and a bit surprised. If she was not going to yell at him what was she going to do?
The small smile that had formed at the corner of her lips seemed to indicate that she was pleased to see him. But last time he had seen her he had made her cry, so he decided to wait until the conversation developed further before trying to decide what her mood was. It could after all be some kind of sly woman trick.
Sam had never mastered the way that women thought and if you believed what you heard teenage women were even worse. So he decided to ere on the side of caution and waited for her to say something.

"I came for the auction but I had no luck."

If she was explaining this to him than she had not seen him in the crowd earlier, which was a blessing for him. Because he firmly believed that if she had known that he was there and had ignored her things would not be going so smoothly right now. So it was probably better for him to feign ignorance on the subject and let her explain; and if she asked what he was doing here then he could always come up with a suitably believable excuse.
As she looked down into the cup of orange juice once more Sam felt that wave of guilt and pity come over him again. Things would have been better if he had managed to get his bid in. Oh well, there was no point in crying over spilt milk now, all he could do was move forward.

"How are you?"

The simple question seemed odd coming from Celeste. The way it was asked implied that she actually did care how he was. The Celeste he had met last time had not even cared who he was as long as he followed orders. And the reports he had heard from her paintball day tended go along the lines of “awesome day, shame about that horrible girl at the start”. Maybe the fact that no one had bid on her had help make he just a bit humbler… well that wasn’t a bad thing.

“I’m fine thank you.”

The answer was simple and to the point and Sam couldn’t help but feel that she had been expecting more of him; which was when his brain chose to remind him of the giant crown that now adorned the wall above his bed. He had done some digging in the days after it appeared and the only thing he had been able to find out was that a blond girl had been seen in the boy’s corridor on that afternoon. Add that to the fact it was the only day she had been in the mansion and he was pretty sure he knew who the culprit was. So he decided to test the water on that subject.

“I’ve been able to redecorate my room since we last met. I followed your advice and decided to improve my image by going with something more… princely.”

He let that last word hang in the air between them. It was Michael that had put that thought in his head; the young boy had wondered if Sam was a prince because he had a crown on his wall.

The genius hidden in her orange juice did not leave his lair. Neither could even if she drink the creepy concoction. If she had not been so depressed, she would have required something worth drinking. Celeste knew that normally, she would put all the staff to squeeze real oranges, just for her enjoyment.She would even demand a homemade lemon pie. She could even imagine the scene. But in that state she almost thought to deserve such a vile poison. And even when to hide in the orange liquid seemed the best option of all, she placed the glass on the table. Pretending not to be interested in it. She knew that the continuing to stab the liquid surface was not going to make it tasty. She put her glass in the same place where she found it. Between two glasses filled with the same fatal content. So its lack of content was obvious.
Only the man in front of her could give her the answers she wanted. But ... Was she ready to ask again? Once was enough, and if he did not bring it up to the light she would not ask... but he did.

The accusation was weak. Negligible. She could avoid it with a couple of lies, as she always did. She could even change the subject and would never know she had done it. But neither would have a clue about her reasons for doing so. That was even more sad. If that was possible.
That night it seemed that the girl had undergone some kind of magic re moralizing. Unable to lie, interested in other people, unable to hide under her mask of greatness. Her usual golden mask that separated her from mere mortals was missing. She felt naked without it. Unprotected. And although her dress was covered with a thin layer of liquid silver it was not the same. At some point during the night, her mask had fallen to pieces.
The more she thought about it, the less sense it makes. But she was sure she would not able to lie, not because Sam represent something important in her life, not because she swore an oath, not because her conscience told her it was bad. No, lies were part of her body. As much as her eyes or hair. Without the lies and deceit she would not be herself. But that night, to lie was as little appealing than all the other options. The girl felt simply apathetic. Unable to feel anything but sadness.

Instead of avoiding the charge, and running in the opposite direction, she confronted him with all her might. She needed all her courage to make her confession, and a few seconds to decide to do it. But eventually the words left her lips. At first weak and confused, but getting firmly with each syllable. There was no turning back.
"The crowns of princes are different." Stammered the girl. The second sentence was more loud and clear. But still a little awkward. "That is the crown of a queen. My crown. " Admitted the girl while a light blush covered her face.She was extremely embarrassed by that so childish admission. It was the first time she spoke openly of her self-coronation.
That made her remember another similar situation. Where her father punish her for breaking a figurine of her mother. She did not remember her punishment. But she remembered how foolish she felt at that time. Guilty and remorseful. And despite already being regretting her confession, she continued with her explanation. Trying to make him understand something she did not understood. "I was so angry that I was going to paint your whole room. I wanted to destroy it... but then I realized... " She stopped abruptly. Not knowing how to continue. Not knowing what to say. Should she confess that he was perhaps the closest thing to a friend? Their relationship had been short. Problematic. Difficult. But before she found the words to explain the strange relationship they had, she found a hole through which to escape. "The crown was a gift." She said finally, as if that justified the destruction of his personal space. At the same time she gave him a new smile that tried to look cheerful. This time she almost succeeded.

Sam watched as his hidden accusation sunk in; Celeste had already been a bit fidgety before but now he knew he had struck a chord. She seemed suddenly uncomfortable as if she was unsure as to what her next move ought to be. The illusion mutant suppressed a smug smile that threatened to appear on his face; he had been pretty sure that she was the one responsible for the graffiti but it was nice to be able to confront her with it. Besides if she had not been prepared to deal with the consequences of her actions then she should have refrained from doing things in the first place.

After a moment or two of slightly awkward silence Celeste seemed prepared to speak. Sam was not sure what to expect, it could either be a flat out denial or she might decide to go the other way and claim that she had done him a favor by improving his drab room. It was so hard to tell what might come next that he gave up trying. He would just wait and see what she said, that way it would be a surprise.

"The crowns of princes are different. That is the crown of a queen. My crown. "

Yep there it was the surprise; he raised an eyebrow at the blond. It was an expression that read “what the hell?” and it was as much for the strange way she had answered the question as for the fact that she actually believed that there was a difference between crowns. A crown was a crown was it not? Ah why were women so complicated…

"I was so angry that I was going to paint your whole room. I wanted to destroy it... but then I realized... "

The eyebrow rose another notch; she had been aiming to wreck his room? Well that did sound a lot like the Celeste he remembered but still it sparked a small amount of anger in him. And all of the pieces of the puzzle suddenly seemed to fall into place. Everything made sense now, she had seen where he lived and then she had plotted revenge. The paintball game had been a ploy to gain access to the mansion; damn he had been so stupid. How could he have believed that she was there for an innocent reason? Well if she had trashed him room it would have been his own damned fault.

"The crown was a gift."

The words cut through the spiral of his thoughts. Wait, what? How had they gone from breaking things to gifts… he must have missed something. Taking a deep breath he tried to make sense of this whole thing. Celeste was smiling at him in a bashful manner as if waiting for him to thank her for this wonderful thing she had given him. Well that was not going to happen; right now he was struggling just to avoid yelling at her again. How was it that this girl managed to drive him crazy in just a few minutes? Hadn’t he come here to make sure that she was ok? Where had those feelings gone?

They were still there somewhere but first he needed to get some of this anger off his chest. He didn’t say anything for a good minute, trying to compose his thoughts so as not to say anything that he might regret later. In the end he opted with just telling her the truth, it would be up to her whether she could handle it or not.

“I’m sorry but to be honest I’m really confused. I don’t know if I should be angry that you even thought about doing that. Or if I should just be thankful you changed your mind…” He knew that his words might be a bit harsh but he was trying his best to keep them as diplomatic as possible.

“I came here today to keep an eye on you, heck I even brought some change to put in a bid if it came down to it but now I don’t know how I should feel. What is it you want from me exactly?”

Part of her hoped for complaints and anger. Another part of her being expected an understanding impossible for a human. She wanted people to understand her without having to say a word. She wanted everyone to know what she wanted even before she knew it. But the world refused to fulfill her whims with such diligence. Sometimes it did not even met them, and she had to go out and bring order to the universe with green paper printed with the face of a dead man. That was the only authority that the world understood. And yet there were so many things she could not buy. But how to communicate with others? How to trust people? It was easier to pay them.

Her eyes watered, her lips trembled slightly. Her vocal cords repeatedly refused to provide her with the usual means of communication. She opened her mouth several times with the intention of stopping him. Just to add more excuses. But immediately closed it in the absence of sound. When orders finally reached her throat, her voice was weak. Almost a whisper that only him could hear . "Friendship." The word was pronounce as if it were an archaic magic fraught with danger. There was fear on her. Also doubts. But she said the word with great respect. Like a special sigil. A word able to contain countless concepts and situations. Her voice was filled with great sadness and uncertainty. What was friendship? She really did not know. The only person she called "friend" spent all her free time trying to surpass her. Humiliate her. She did the same. That was not friendship. It was not healthy.

Suddenly her voice became stronger, grew uncontrollably until that small cavity could no longer contain it. Her soft voice turned into almost a shout. And as it always happened when she expressed a truth hidden in her heart, she began to cry. "I want a friend, someone with personality who is not afraid to tell me if I'm wrong!" Tears fell from her eyes like waterfalls, dragging the little makeup she wore. Silent witnesses that her words were totally sincere. She paused abruptly, trying to fill her lungs with air to continue her confession. Her eyes were red, her tears black with the makeup. She took air in giant puffs, almost choking her. She tried to talk again but do not make it until the third attempt. This time a little more relaxed. Far from the initial explosion. "I want to relax with someone and not have to be the best at all times." Then stared at her feet. There was nothing interesting there except for her beautiful evening shoes. Extremely expensive and exclusive, but they looked as normal shoes. Without words, she became silent, at least as quiet as she could. More than still she was still panting from all the crying. Letting out little moans of her lungs in irregular contractions. She locked the rest of her confession into her memory, since it had nothing to do with Sam. "I want a father and a mother."

As he watched his words sink in, Sam realized that he had done it again. It was like watching a flash back of that day in the store. In less than five minutes they had managed to have an argument that made him lose his temper and as a result of that Celeste cried. He hated the fact that this was how things turned out, that she seemed to life in such an unrealistic world that it drove him crazy. To make matters worse those tears always managed to snuff out his anger and leave him feeling heartless and wretched.

This time though she seemed to be fighting hard to hold the tears in and he had to admit that he was glad of it. If she managed to push through the tears and back into anger or something similar it would be easier to deal with. So he waited to see which way the scales would tip and more importantly what her answer to his question would be.

"Friendship."

She uttered to word so quietly that Sam almost believed she had not said anything at all. Almost. If the atmosphere had not been so heavy Sam would have been tempted to laugh that statement off as a joke, but the look on Celeste’s face told him that she was deadly serious. There was something in her expression that looked almost like hunger and it scared Sam slightly. He had obviously stepped into something much more serious than he had been expecting.

"I want a friend, someone with personality who is not afraid to tell me if I'm wrong!"

She was gaining momentum now and getting more and more worked up. So much so that Sam was starting to get worried that she might have some kind of attack. He was so distressed by her state that what she was saying no longer seemed to matter. The more she cried the less she seemed to be able to breathe and Sam found himself almost pushing himself off his seat to go to her side. But he decided against it, right now he was unsure whether an intervention of that kind would be beneficial or not. Then after moments that seemed to drag on and on she got a hold of herself again.

"I want to relax with someone and not have to be the best at all times."

The statement hung in the air between them and it seemed like Celeste’s crying fit was winding down again. Sam stayed quiet for a long time, not only because he wanted to give her the time to get her breath back but also because he knew he had to be very careful what he said next. If he got thinks wrong he would bring back the tears and he was not sure he could deal with that. Then again he was not sure he was ready for a friendship with this girl either. He had a feeling that it would be something that would lead him into more unexpected and complicated situations.

However a small part of him felt that if he pushed her away now, after she had quite literally poured her heart our at him, that he would break something in her that might never be fixed again. God, the pressure was awful. Finally when he had played several scenarios over in his head he felt ready to speak again.

“Are you sure that I’m the person to give you that? I seem to have an uncanny ability to make you cry.”

The question was genuine and he kept his tone calm and reassuring. He wanted to make sure that Celeste knew what she really wanted. Because one thing was sure, he would not change who he was to suit her, that was rule number one of friendship accept your friends as they are. Which meant that if she did pursue this idea then he was going to have to find a whole bunch of patience to put up with her as she is.

In her mind, she watched as Sam parried the blows with his sword without flinching, while she, filled with many feelings such as anger, fear and sadness gave powerful strokes lacking discipline. Each blow was brutal and direct, but diverted so easily that it seemed that she was not trying. And that infuriated her more.
In terms of reality, the situation was not so different. Only missing swords. And the anger. Although she still did not gather enough anger to strike him. Even when he wanted to be so diplomatic. Never a straight answer. Like a cat. That was not enough reason to hit him. Sam did not deserve it, yet. Even when he worked so hard to divert her ideas to a resolution that did not include him, clearly trying to escape. Like she was a storm able to destroy everything.
Meanwhile Celeste recovered her lost breath taking big gulps of air. When her cries died out completely, and her lungs were able to obtain sufficient air at an appropriate pace, was that the girl spoke again. Clearly influenced by his words. "I do not know." She said at last. He really had managed to grow that little doubt she had into a giant monster.

Now she was taking the control over herself, she clean her tears deftly with one hand while looking for a handkerchief in her purse with the other. When she found it, she continued with the task of cleaning her washed makeup. She tried not to think about it. Surely, she looked terrible.
Changing her expression from that of a sad girl who can flood the world with her tears to a beautiful mask of indifference toward everything. She needed to feel strong. She must feign indifference or end crying again.
"I will not cry all the time." Admitted the girl, driven by pride. She hated to cry. "But when I was alone in your room ... I felt like we could become friends." She confessed again not knowing what to say. The only thing she could think in favor of that uneven friendship, was that she would not have to compete with Sam as she was clearly superior. It was not something good to say. So she decided to remain silent.
Her face softened again, showing her sadness. And while she quickly placed her mask of indifference on place, her voice betrayed her, showing her true feelings of sadness and loneliness.

"I do not know."

Her admission seemed to reassure him somewhat. It made him feel better to know that he was not alone in wondering if establishing a relationship between them would not be a foolish thing. He could already tell from her face that she would not give up on the idea so easily but now if things went horribly wrong she could not say that he had not warned her. With this said out loud Sam felt as though some of the weight he had been carrying had been lifted.

"I will not cry all the time."

It was nice of her to say that but Sam seriously doubted that she had any control over whether she did or not. Some people carried their emotions deep inside them and others carried them on their sleeve and he had now decided that Celeste belonged to the latter. He also decided not to add a reassuring “and I’ll do my best not to make you cry” because he could not promise anything on that front. All he could do was to give her a chance, which right now seemed very magnanimous of him.

"But when I was alone in your room ... I felt like we could become friends."

Sam tried to work out what was wrong with that statement. What on earth had she seen in his room that would make her believe that? He took a moment to analyze the content of his room with Celeste’s eyes. Bedding, curtains? Matching so +1. Computer… average so 0. Hair and skin products, ok she’s like the fact he took care of himself so +1. He doubted that those things would be enough to convince her, there had to be something else… wardrobe. If she had opened that then it would be like +100. Sam was very proud of his clothes collection and even though not everything he owned was branded there were probably just enough to make him acceptable in Celeste’s eyes. Which made this the first ever day when he resented his fashion sense.

Right so now it was his move he could either turn her down or he was going to hold out the olive branch of peace. He sighed, he’s try this once and if it turned out the same way again then he would tell her flat out that this was not going to work.

“Ok so how about this, I was going to put a bid on you in this auction which would have meant one “date”. So what I’m suggesting is that we go out somewhere as friends to see if we can manage not to kill each other.”

That was his best offer, she could take it or leave it.

The idea of receiving a bid and a date comforted her. It made her smile. At least the dress, makeup, and being among all those monsters... all was for a reward. It was exactly what she expected from that night. And it had to be grateful that someone who invited her was someone she knew. In fact, at the point where she was, alone and without a date, she had to settle with someone with was not a giant snake, like the one that moved with vanity among the people during the auction. He was obnoxious. He saw himself as if he were king of the night. Clearly no one had informed him of the hierarchies of the other guests.

"I agree. Sounds fair. " Said the girl while trying to erase the sadness of her heart. The task was not easy, but her mind was beginning to make plans for the date. Interrupting any thought that was not related to that topic. That helped a lot. Among her many concerns were which dress she would wear, what time of the day, and where. Especially where. The girl began to speak again, this time under the extremely complicated and doubtful dilemma in which she was. "But ..." She close her lips immediately. But she could not hold it back for long. A hint of guilt sticking out of her voice. "I really do not want to start a fight, but nor I want to end up at a fast food place." She hoped Sam would not take that as an insult, but she knew it sounded really bad. "Can I pick the place for you? I will pay. " Meanwhile, the remaining pieces of the puzzle found their place one by one. Friday night. 8pm. Chiaro Di Luna. She would need to call ahead to confirm the dismissal of the former pianist and the hiring of a new one.

His offer seemed to please her as a smile slowly grew where her blank mask had been seconds before. Sam did not know if he should feel relieved or not, in the end he had given in again and little Miss Princess was getting her own way. As he thought about this he couldn’t help but wonder how her parents coped with her. Either they had made her this way by doting on her endlessly or they just through money at her and didn’t care what she did from there. He couldn’t imagine you could get so spoilt if you had normal parents. If he had ever dared to act like that he father would have killed him.

"I agree. Sounds fair. But…”

He had known she would agree before she even said and come to think of it he could probably have predicted the “but” that came next as well. He sighed slightly and waited for what would come next, although he had to admit that the fact that she was now taking the time to think of what she should say next was a small improvement. Normally she would just have blurted out what she thought regardless of how it sounded.

"I really do not want to start a fight, but nor do I want to end up at a fast food place."

Diplomacy was obviously not her strong point but she had made an effort so he decided not to shoot her down. He did however resent the fact that she deemed him either to ignorant or to broke to know what good food was. As a matter of fact he had been planning to take her to a Korean restaurant he had found the other day. That was something he could have shared with her… the kind of things that friends do.

"Can I pick the place for you? I will pay. "

He knew that arguing with her know would just cause more drama so he decided that he would just accept her proposal and wait and see what came out of it. One thing that was sure was that her idea of a meal out would not match his idea of a meal out. Just the fact that she was offering to pay indicated that the price tag on the food was going to be astronomical. He just hoped that she would not do something extravagant like rent out the whole restaurant.

“Sounds fine, I’ll give you my mobile number. You can just text me where and when.”