He sighs before snatching the check and paying it, sliding over a 100 with two fingers, before you can get a look in. The waiter gasps at the tips and bows slightly before gawking, running back to work.

‘You didn’t have to pay.’ You snap, clearly mad that he got you a drink and payed way extra, but he just chuckles.

“Sweetheart, you know my job, I can do whatever I want.” He flashes you a grin and a wink, as he watches you sip your milkshake, his arm slung over your shoulders, your side.