He spotted you from the other side of the restaurant, glass in hand and a thousand yard stare on your face. He was late, you wouldn't be happy; he knew half the night ahead would be him grovelling, but he also knew it usually worked. Hips swayed as he weaved between the chairs, piano music eminating softly around him.

"Hi, love, sorry I'm late."

He leant down to kiss you on the cheek, but something was off, your cold reception an extreme contrast to the setting surrounding the two of you. Eyes noticed your gaze trail down to his tie, noticing it's loose nature, skewed off to one side and his hair... someone else's hands had been in there.