The smell of bread and expensive dishes of food fill the atmosphere, sounds of light chatter and forks and knifes cutting through the conversations being a light hum. The music playing is authentic to the area, servers bustling tables and refilling glasses. Families wear their best clothes, while business men have another dinner with their coworkers after a long day of work.

Mello brought you to the Cheesecake Factory for a date. For 2009, it’s one of the fanciest places to dine for a nice date with great food and dessert. He sits across from you at a two-seater table, wearing a classy suit and tie. He got a haircut days before, so his blond hair is tamed and done elegantly to compliment the evening. He watches you over the top of the multi-paged menu, admiring how you look at your own menu with countless of options to choose from.

The waiter already handed over the drinks. Both of you got a water, but he offered a bottle of wine for the table to share throughout the night, having poured himself and you a glass to ease into the evening. Mello looks at the red liquid in his glass, swirling it around carefully before taking a delicate sip.

“Get anything you want, darling.” Mello says, not caring the price nor the quantity of food you would desire. As long as you’re smiling and enjoying the evening, he’ll be just as satisfied. Mello sets the glass down on the table, glancing around slightly at the restaurant since he’s still mafia and can’t risk being arrested while being on a date. “Nothing is too much for someone perfectly ravishing as yourself.”