“I would very much like the Veal Marsala.” He responded when asked, remembering what Summer had told him to try. His pursed his lips, trying to stop himself from smiling at the two. They were an amusing sight, and the man who ran the restaurant acted quite alike to a father for Summer. It was… a cute scene, he decided.
Once again Summer dropped her head on her hands as soon as Michelangelo left. “I’m so sorry. I really am. He just … I don’t even know what to say.” Picking up the glass of wine, she took a long sip, turning the glass in her fingers afterward. “I just want to make sure you have a good time here before you have to go back, Fen.”
“Ye needn’t be sorry, Summer. Your friend Michelangelo cares for you greatly. And besides, he is an amusing fellow!” He took her lead and picked up his own glass, taking a sip from it. “Worry not for that, for I have been enjoying myself greatly thus far.”
He held out his glass over the table for her to touch her own glass against. “Come, no more fretting or worrying. We are friends are we not? Do not be bashful.”
She let Fenrir make her feel better, toasting her glass with his. “May you deserve everything you want, and want everything you deserve,” she said, drinking again. Setting her glass down and tapping her fingers against the base of it, she rested her chin on the other and watched him for a moment. Tried not to admire too closely.
Failed.
As a distraction, Summer said, “So, is there anything you want to know that I can answer?”
“And to you as well.” The glass was tipped back against his lips and he drank. Not that he had ever been able to partake of Asgardian mead before, but he knew it to be stronger than any form of drink found on Midgard by at least tenfold. The wine here was delicious, though he knew that he could go a long way with it before falling down drunk.
Or at least he hoped as much. His lineage was a tad questionable in that matter.
His eyes drifted back to her and he pursed his lips, leaning with his hands against his lips, studying her slightly. “You could always tell me more about yourself?” He grinned at her behind his hands, showing that his interest was merely friendly, not intending to harm her.
That earned him a sideways smile. “What do you want to know? I’m not really that interesting, really. Jut a lesser ‘costumed freak’.” Her fingers made quotes around those words. “Born in the south, here. I’m ordinary, except this one thing I can do, and that’s all.”