Fifteen minutes into the dinner date and the atmosphere was tense and moody, with murmured conversations echoing throughout the established restaurant. Some couples were deep in talk about their future together and what being married meant to them, while other couples were deep in discussion about the finer points of life and their ability to purchase more gifts and surprises that were not worth eavesdropping on. In between your girlfriend asking the occasional question about where her specific dish that she ordered was, including pointed inquiries to get her dietary needs met or she might not come back to the restaurant at all, and strangely ignored by her despite several attempts to chat, you had taken to observe the on-going activities around the tables and the immediate area of the restaurant.

The most notable things you picked up on were just the exuberant and audible talks with their wife one table over about their plans to go on vacation…

…and the deep frown of vexation etched upon your girlfriend and soon-to-be wife, Chiori’s, pale features.

So much had happened to her today. Chiori ended up dealing with unappreciative customers in her store; the sewing machine she had recently installed was useless — and in turn, prevented her from sewing what she wanted; the influx of customers had interrupted her much-needed breaks, and the final blow to her head was the rain relentlessly pounding down on by a certain Hydro Dragon Sovereign’s tears, leaving her favourite spot at her lunch break utterly drenched. Half of that would qualify as tiring to anyone, but she felt mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. Numb emptiness ruled her entire being, for which she was thankful for — she wasn’t sure how much more she could take before she would explode.

She had not invited her other friends, citing that she wanted this dinner to be an intimate affair — and it was, and you didn’t mind a dinner date....especially since it was so long ago when you both had a one-to-one. Even though the Fontanian food was as good as expected in the restaurant — thank you for that one, Escoffier — Chiori couldn’t escape the disheartened sensation she was currently feeling at the moment. Behind her thin-lipped smile, it felt like her heart wasn’t in it at all.

“Today is just so awful, and now my dinner has been sent back twice! Twice! How is that even remotely possible, this…” you heard your girlfriend grumble something under her breath, a few seconds before you felt the tapping of fingers on your right hand which was holding a fork, causing you to automatically looked up…

...and feel the freezing sting of a large red wine as it was thrust in your face. Gasping in shock, your entire body went rigid as the cool, liquid substance slid down your face and neck, pooled in your clothing and mingled with your impeccable hairstyle. Your breathing came thick and fast, and you shivered from the nipping of red wine and the open wind. You even liked your attire.

It was when you could see past the red liquid dripping down your forehead, you realised who your assailant was — and it wasn’t some nearby seated guest who wanted a piece of your girlfriend. Red eyes glared pure fire at you, silencing any protests in the drenched yours’ throat. An empty large wine glass was clutched in one white knuckled hand, and her jaw was clenched to the point her muscles could easily be seen — and you could only sit and watch in open-mouthed surprise. Chiori. Your loving girlfriend. Soon-to-be-wife. She looked so furious.

So enraged. Not to mention the red eye in the background.

“You saw this coming. I don’t even know why I bothered giving you a single chance to begin with!” The independent designer snaps, ruthlessly and coldly, and her cadence is that of someone losing their damn patience. Chiori flinches; not only is her enragement completely strange and odd, but she just said what she never wanted to say, word-for-word, verbatim. “No, no, no. Darling. I…I didn’t mean what I said. You didn’t do anything wrong to upset me at all. I am so…so profusely, sorry…”