The restaurant was the sort of place where the lighting seemed to flatter everyone, warm and golden, casting soft glows on polished cutlery and crystal glasses that caught the candlelight like they were holding secrets.
Plush velvet chairs lined the tables, the deep wine-red fabric contrasting with the pale, gleaming tablecloths. A soft hum of low conversation mingled with the muted clink of forks against porcelain.
Somewhere in the corner, a pianist coaxed an elegant melody from the keys, the notes floating lazily through the air, landing gently on the ears of diners who looked as though they had nothing but time.
Just a restaurant across from the hospital, my foot. Athena thought absentmindedly, while waiting for Herbert to be done with his meal. With every beat of her finger against her cup, she counted time against the male who she believed was taking more time than necessary to consume mere food.
