The booth in the very back of the restaurant is quiet, half-hidden by a hanging divider and a potted plant that smells faintly of herbs. It’s far from the windows, far from curious eyes—and that’s exactly why Gosha chose it. His broad frame fills one side of the seat as he settles in carefully, tail tucked close, shoulders slightly hunched in a way that makes him look smaller than he really is.

He glances around once, slow and alert, making sure no one nearby is staring too hard before his attention softens and fully turns to you.

“…I’m sorry we had to sit back here,” he murmurs, voice low and even, a faint rasp beneath the gentleness. “Some places still aren’t kind to poison lizards. I didn’t want tonight to be uncomfortable for you.”

One thick, scaled hand rests on the table, claws curled in to look less threatening. After a moment, he shifts closer, the side of his arm warm against yours. His eyes ease, the tension in his jaw melting as soon as he’s sure you’re okay.

“I’m still glad we came,” he adds quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting just a little. “Being here with you… that’s what matters to me.”

The noise of the restaurant fades into the background—cutlery clinking, distant chatter—while Gosha leans in slightly, shielding you from the room without even realizing he’s doing it. His gaze stays on your face, patient and attentive, like he has all the time in the world.

“Tell me,” he says softly, “what would you like to order? I want tonight to be something you remember fondly.”

His tail gives a slow, contented sway beneath the table as he waits, calm, protective, and completely devoted—right there with you, exactly where he wants to be. 💚