“You know, I think we should really have company dinners more often,” Alfred said, his words muffling against the food in his mouth.
Davis raised an eyebrow as he cut through a piece of steak with his knife. “Why? So you can leach off me more?”
“No, of course not,” he said, though, in a hardly convincing tone. “Besides, I’m sure golden eyes here would like it too.”
“My opinion is unimportant to-”
“See, she loves the idea.”
“Alfred, don’t go using her against Davis for your own agenda,” Francesca said with a light sternness.
We were all seated together inside a restaurant. Francesca had chosen the establishment. It was long nightfall and the room was packed with dozens of other customers. I found the overlapping chatter from nearby tables and the close proximity of my chair to others to be quite disconcerting.
Francesca had ordered all the dishes for us, the various fragrances merging into one. Alfred had also given some opinionated input about which menu items he preferred.
Surprisingly, Hendrik was also there. He’d begrudgingly agreed to come after both Alfred and Davis practically dragged him out of the morgue. Even though we were seated beside each other, he hadn’t even met my eyes once yet during the dinner. But his expression, while still rather apathetic, was more relaxed than the scowl he always seemed to wear whenever he saw me. He added little to the table’s conversation, seeming content with listening to the other three speak, and only chiming in occasionally.
I didn’t contribute much either as I busied myself with the plate in front of me. Usually, I’d eat my meals with haste since I rarely had the time to indulge excessively in such a menial task while on the battlefield. But now, in an environment with no looming threats or pressing concerns, time was a luxury I now had.
So I slowed down the rate of my chewing, taking my time with each bite. I figured that if I appeared preoccupied, the less chance I’d be dragged into the conversation. But as my hand gripped around my fork, I struggled to keep the cut of fish from slipping around on the plate every time I tried cutting into it. When it slipped again, I heard someone clear their throat beside me.
“Try holding it like this,” Francesca whispered to me. I locked over and saw how she held the utensils, keeping her pointer fingers on the neck of the fork and knife. I copied her finger placements down to the specific angle she held them. As I did, she gave a reassuring nod before turning back to her own plate.
I didn’t know what to think about this woman. She’d expressed her concern about my being here to Davis so directly, and yet, kept maintaining this kind of outward demeanour towards me.
“But we should really consider giving her an actual name soon,” Alfred said, pointing his fork towards me. I’d momentarily become distracted from their conversation, When I looked up, I realised that all their focus had now been directed towards me.
“He’s right, we should’ve given her a name by now,” Francesca said, nodding in agreement.
Davis hummed in response, swallowing a mouthful of food before opening his mouth to speak. “About that, I’ve already made a list of names I thought might suit her.”
A list? This was the first I was hearing about it. I lowered my hands to the table, staring curiously at Davis as he reached his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a small piece of paper folded in itself a few times. As he began to unfold it, both Alfred and Francesca leaned over towards him with curious looks. Even Hendrik briefly glanced at it from the corner of his eye.
“No way, you actually made a list?” Alfred said as he skimmed through the different names on the page, his eyes narrowing at each one. “Elizabeth, Christine, Ophelia… Really? These were the names you came up with?”
“Hey, they’re not that bad.”
“I mean, I suppose they’re not awful names,” Francesca said as she read through the list herself. “But I’m not sure if any of them suit her that well.”
“Well I thought maybe something along the lines of ‘Constance’ or ‘Lana’ sounded nice,” Davis said, a small frown growing as he reevaluated the list.
Alfred shot a look at Davis. “You really thought she looked like a ‘Constance’?”
“Well, you try coming up with one then!”
Alfred hummed loudly, rubbing his chin as he considered a few names in his mind before blurting out one.
“Samantha?”
All he got for that suggestion was two blank stares from Francesca and Davis. They looked at him, thoroughly unimpressed, for a few seconds before they both turned back down to the list.
“Alright, let’s not take your opinion on this then,” Francesca said, dismissing Alfred’s suggestion entirely as she began to reread the names.
“Hey, what’s wrong with that one?”
“What about Irene?”
Their three pairs of eyes turned to Hendrik as he spoke. He was casually stabbing at his plate with his fork, ignoring their stares. They all grew silent as they each quietly considered his suggestion. It was a surprise he decided to voice an opinion at all on the matter.
“Well, I guess it’s not the worst choice. Irene Davis doesn’t sound that bad,” Alfred said.
Davis snapped his head towards him, staring at him incredulously as his cheeks began to grow warm. “Hold on, since when were we giving her my surname?”
“Well you’re the one who took her in, and it’s not like I’m going to give her my surname.”
“I do agree with him,” Francesca said. “If she were to take any of our family names, it would be yours.”
“Wait just a second. You’re forgetting that this is her name. Shouldn’t she be the one to decide,” Davis argued before towards me. I stopped chewing as I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Everyone, excluding Hendrik, was now looking at me.
I didn’t quite know what to do with all their eyes on me. Honestly, it was rather inconvenient to have this decision fall onto me as I rarely had to decide anything for myself before. I was more than content with letting them choose whatever name they thought best. It was just a name after all and hardly a major concern. But to be given some autonomy, even over something so small, was strange.
“I think Irene Davis would work well,” I said, not expressing any strong preference or dislike for the name. I left it at that and turned back down to my plate.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Davis asked, his eyebrows furrowing doubtfully at me.
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, if you’re sure, there’s nothing else I can do,” he said with a sigh as he leaned back in his seat, seeming rather defeated. He seemed to reconsider the name in his mind and a small smile slowly crept onto his face. “But Alfred’s right, the name does sound nice.”
Irene Davis.
Those words felt foreign on my tongue when I said it out loud. I wasn’t sure that I’d even respond to it if someone called me that name. But no matter how long it would take me to adjust to it, I was sure I would eventually.
But as I began to look back up towards Davis, a flash of yellow appeared outside of the window behind him. My eyes immediately flickered towards it as a familiar blonde-haired man walked past the restaurant. His expression seemed impassive, wearing a neutral gaze, as he walked past the restaurant without a second thought.
I wasn’t sure what about seeing him compelled me to do so, but without another second of thought, I’d already put my fork down on the table.
“Please excuse me. I’ll be back in a moment.” I said, standing up from my seat. Before any of them could even say anything, I’d already left the table and was headed straight for the entrance. As I stepped outside, I was met with that cool evening breeze. It blew gently against the fabric of my coat.
I turned to my right, the direction he’d been walking in, and glanced down the street. But he was already out of sight. Without delaying a second longer, I ran down that street, the sound of my shoes hitting the pavement echoed through the empty road with every step. I hoped he wasn’t out of sight completely yet.
There were people still out, but they were far and few in between and the numbers only seemed to drizzle lower the further I ran from the restaurant. Every time I spotted someone, I became annoyed whenever they didn’t adorn the same suits that man wore or if they didn’t have the same blue eyes.
As I reached a crossroad, I stopped. I looked down at the two paths, my head turning between them. They both looked the same, but he must’ve gone down one. Even if I chose the wrong one, maybe I’d be fast enough to turn back to the other before I lost him completely.
But then, the soft and rhythmic thud of footsteps echoed down the street to my left. But with each step, the sound grew fainter. Without hesitating, I continued my sprint down that narrow street, the walls seemed to cave in on me the further I ran down. The sound of those footsteps began to become indistinguishable from my own. But as I rounded the corner, the road abruptly cut off as I was met face-to-face with a building at the end of the street.
I let out a heavy sigh as I was forced to a sudden halt. I wondered if it was even worth trying the other path or if the man was long gone by now. It was an impulsive decision to go after anyway, so there it wouldn’t be a major loss if I wasn’t able to find him anyway.
But before I could make a decision, the familiar noise of shoes against the ground reached my ears. However this time, it seemed to grow louder with each step. I whipped my body around and I met the eyes of a man. But it wasn’t the blonde-haired one I’d been looking for.
He stood alone there, about half a dozen feet away from me. The dim glow of the moon revealed the dark, almost purple shade his hair. And even through his square-rimmed glasses, I could tell he didn’t have blue eyes either.
It was far from it with his pair of golden eyes that pierced into my own.
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