Elizabeth
When Eric asked me out, I wasn’t expecting that sort of date. The type of date that requires one to dress up in their best clothes and act like a human.
Ever since we’d entered that fancy French restaurant, I wished a big hole to appear under my feet and swallow me whole. Saying that I was feeling uncomfortable was a huge understatement.
As for Eric, he looked as gorgeous and flawless as ever. While I knew that I looked like crap. A beggar in the middle of the rich people. I was under-dressed for that place. I had really wished that he had told me where we were going before we left the palace. He had said it was a surprise. It didn't seem like a surprise to me! It seemed like he wanted to humiliate me and make me feel ashamed by the way I looked and was dressed.
I badly wanted to run away from there and crawl into the safe confines of my room while crying my heart out. The way the waiter was looking at me, wasn't helping either. When he explained the menu in French with a smug smile and judgmental eyes, I snapped. I'm French, and his accent sucked!
Once the garçon finished, he smiled at Eric and stared at me, daring me to speak or choose what I wanted to eat. I stared at his neck, watching how the jugular pulsed. He was lucky I wasn’t that hungry, and he didn't smell delicious. He actually smelled of grease and drugs.
“Mademoiselle, votre choix?” the waiter asked me.
I continued speaking in French, “Could you please repeat. I’m afraid that I couldn’t quite understand due to your accent.”
It was my turn to smirk at him.
He lost his smug grin rather quickly. “Do you understand French?”
“Of course, I'm French,” I told him matter-of-factly.
“Could you excuse us for a moment? We will look at the menu, and I'll call you when we are ready to order,” Eric interrupted my little chitchat with the guy.
The waiter left, and I stared at Eric with murderous eyes.
“Didn't you like the restaurant?” Eric asked. He put down the menu as he appeared to be uncomfortable by my behavior.
“Do I look like someone who likes being here?” I muttered.
I think my eye-color changed because he went pale. I closed my eyes before anyone could notice and clenched my jaw. Luckily, my fangs hadn’t come out. Still, I didn't want him to see my black eyes. I felt mortified. My eyes were dark, not amber or purple like the vampires who don't drink from the source.
I put my sunglasses on. I never leave the house without them. It was my protection from other people's stares and for moments like these.
“Excuse me,” I requested.
I got up and pretended I was heading to the bathroom. Instead, I left the restaurant into the chilly night air.
It was darkening fast. I looked down both sides of the road, not knowing where to go. I wanted to go home, but I had no home here or any other safe place to go. His home was the last place I wanted to go. Being outside waiting for him to find out that I left wasn't an option.
Breathing deeply, I fisted my hands and mingled into the crowd of people passing by. I hoped to disappear until I found a nice place to hide and return to my own insignificance in the world.
“Where do you think you are going?” Eric asked, appearing next to me.
I hadn’t run fast or far enough since he found me rather quickly. Liking it or not, I felt relieved that he chased after me. Yet I wasn’t going to confess that. Never.
I muttered as I marched, “Far away from that stupid place.”
“I thought you would like to go there.”
I halted and looked at him, trying to understand if he was serious. My eyes were black, I knew it, I was mad at him, so I was happy I had my glasses still on.
“Are you joking with me? Did you take me there, so I would feel bad? To feel like crap? Is that your fucking twisted way to humiliate me?”
I was losing it.
Eric pulled me to an alley, so other people wouldn't stop and stare at us, or rather me, arguing.
“I was trying to spend more time alone with you! A place with people, so you would feel safe around me. A place that would remind you of home.”
“Well, your plan sucked!” I said, folding my arms over my chest with an angry face.
After a while of staring at me in silence, he asked, “Why didn't you like the restaurant?”
“Are you blind? Didn't you see how everybody looked at me? I'm not dressed to be in a place like that! And you were inconsiderate! You didn't even ask me to dress properly.”
“I think you look just fine.”
I unfolded my arms and balled my hands. “Well, you were the only one to think that!”
“Who cares what they think?”
I didn’t bother to answer him. I just turned my back on him and walked away. I needed to clear my head. I was fuming, and I would eventually burst into tears if I continued there, with him staring at me like I was out of my mind. Why couldn't he understand? I wasn’t overreacting. I wasn't ready to go to a place where people would judge the way I dressed and looked. I wasn't ready to dress in fancy clothes and act normal either. All I wanted to do was run away to my bedroom and snuggle in bed with a book.
Why did I ever accept going on a date with him?