"I must say, my lord, you truly took me by surprise with this invitation."

Fenrich stared across the dingy little outdoor table, one hand holding a spoon and the other hand clutching a bowl of ice cream.

"I'm not one for tiny, barely-functioning establishments like this, but I think you were right after all, my lord - it is good weather for an ice cream date. Care for a bite?"

The werewolf held out the spoon full of red-tinted, half-melted ice cream expectantly, but only silence greeted his offer. He frowned deeply.

"...N, no, my lord, I didn't lace the ice cream with blood. Wh, what kind of disobedient excuse of a servant do you take me for? It's an entirely natural coloring...fine, though, have it your way."

Fenrich leaned back in his chair and looked off to the side, pouting visibly; the chair, plastic and probably a 20-HL investment at most, creaked and protested under his weight.

"You're being awfully quiet today, my lord."

Fenrich looked over expectantly, but silence still remained. Finally, he smirked and leaned forward again with a small shrug.

"Ah, well, as you wish, then. But, truly..."

Fenrich leaned forward further, more than halfway across the table, his smirk fading into a genuine smile and his orange eyes soft with affection.

"As long as I'm with you, on this date, I'm happy. We can do whatever you want. All is for my lord, after all.

The handcrafted Valvatorez body pillow across the table had nothing to say to that