"We should order," Killian said, his voice breaking through the whirlpool of my thoughts. He was seated across from me, and we had chosen the nearest restaurant to make it easier to return to work on time.
I was genuinely relieved that Nathaniel didn't drag out our earlier conversation. He had let me go as soon as I mentioned that I would be having lunch with Killian instead of spending my break with him.
I had half-expected him to be furious and to retaliate by giving me an avalanche of pointless tasks, maybe even sending me to fetch water from some far-off place. But he had remained silent, which gave me the chance to dash out of his office without any further confrontation.
He didn't grab my hand or stop me with a single word. Which is... odd.
Despite this relief, sense of guilt lingered inside me. Was I being too harsh? Too selfish? My feelings were a tangled mess. I was glad to be away from Nathaniel's intense presence, yet a part of me felt a small piece of regret.
It was ridiculous how confused I was—my emotions should have been clear-cut, but instead, they were a jumbled mess.
"Hey," Killian flicked my forehead, jolting me back to reality.
"Ouch!" I groaned, rubbing the spot. It was a light flick, but it still stung. "Why did you do that?"
"Oh!" He cringed, looking guilty. "It's a habit of mine… with my friends."
I couldn't help but smile at his sheepish expression. "It hurts, you know?"
"I used to do that when someone is spacing out." He whispered.
We both turned our attention to the menu, and I tried to focus on the different dishes instead of the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind.
The restaurant was cozy, with warm lighting and the comforting hum of soft conversations around us. It was a situation completely oprressive to the tense atmosphere I had just left behind.
I looked at him with curious eyes and realized that he seemed remarkably normal. Unlike Nathaniel, who exuded an air of wealth and arrogance, Killian appeared kind and approachable. His demeanor was a refreshing contrast, and I found myself wondering why I was even comparing the two of them. It felt unfair and a bit twisted.
"Is that so?" I smiled, trying to mask my internal conflict. "I didn't expect someone like you to be flicking a friend's forehead." I laughed, hoping to lighten the mood.
"What do you mean?" he asked, signaling for a waiter. "Is that out of character for me?"
"What? No! It's just that… I suppose I expected wealthy people like you to act more elegantly and composed. You know, always poised. Most of the time, people like you even leave meals if they're not interesting enough."
"What? How can you even think of that?" He asked, amusement evident in his voice. He was trying to suppress a laugh, but it was clear he found my words a bit ridiculous.
"I mean, whenever I was with Nathan—Sir Nathaniel—I always had to act politely while he behaved arrogantly. I thought that was just how wealthy people were," I explained.
"No. I do have my own company, but it's only possible because my father gave it to me. It's kind of an inheritance, so I can't really claim it as mine. I don't know what kind of people you've been interacting with, but I'm certainly not like that." He paused, his expression serious. "At least, you can trust my words because I'm telling the truth."
His sincerity was disarming. I felt guilty for my preconceived notions and for dragging Nathaniel into this conversation. Killian was different, and I needed to see him for who he was, not through the lens of my complicated feelings for Nathaniel.
The moment the waiter approached our table, our conversation came to an abrupt halt. His cheerful greeting filled the air, a stark contrast to the tension I felt.
"Good noon, ma'am and sir. May I get your order?" he asked, his smile wide and unwavering. I could feel Killian's gaze on me, a silent pressure that made my pulse quicken.
Killian turned to the waiter and confidently began listing his choices. My mind, however, was a blank slate. My tongue felt heavy, incapable of forming coherent words.
"How about your girlfriend, sir?" the waiter continued, misinterpreting our relationship. The simple mistake made the atmosphere around us heavy with awkwardness.
I could feel my face heating up as I quickly corrected him, stammering, "We-we are not a couple." My voice was barely above a whisper.
"Uhm… I'll just have whatever he's having," I added, my voice trailing off in uncertainty.
Killian's head snapped in my direction, a look of gentle insistence on his face. "What?" he said. "Get what you want, not what I have."
His words made me gulp hard, a wave of realization washing over me. His respect for my preferences, something so simple yet profound, left me momentarily speechless.
"Just… a salad, please," I finally managed, offering a small, tentative smile.
The waiter nodded, scribbling down my order. "I'll get that for you. Please wait patiently," he said, his tone now softer. He turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and Killian's unwavering gaze.
As we sat in silence, my fingers began to tap restlessly on the table, a nervous habit I couldn't seem to control. The room felt too quiet, the silence almost deafening. Just when the tension became unbearable, Killian broke it with a question that sent chills down my spine.
"Do you know that man?" he asked, his voice low and cautious. "He's been looking at you ever since we came in."
My heart skipped a beat as I turned to look behind me. My eyes widened in shock when I saw who it was. Walking towards me with a familiar, confident stride was a man I hadn't seen in years.
"Hey!" he called out, waving his hands enthusiastically.
"Sebastian?!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with surprise and disbelief. Memories flooded back, and I felt a whirlwind of emotions - confusion, nostalgia, and a hint of fear.
"What? You're having a meal without me?" He said, finding absurdity in my action.
"How... on earth are we even here?" I stared from left to right, looking at the two men surrounding me.