Day 163

“Marc you look like a skinhead…” I said distraughtly jabbing him in the back of the neck. He gave me a weary smile but didn’t look up from his shoes as he furiously polished them. I watched him awkwardly come to a stand. He was wearing a long white collar shirt underneath a sleek grey and black vest that tied in the back, with thin vertical stripes across the front. He worn his nice ironed slacks that were a perfect shade of midnight black and dark shiny black shoes with high white socks to contrast. His rolex was neatly fastened to his wrist, and a hospital band wrapped around the other as he stuffed them into his pockets. Looking himself over he mumbled something for a brief moment before running a hand across his band head.

“I might as well be with a look like this.” he joked softly as I reentered the room. His eyes looked me over quickly, stopping at my face eventually showing a sign of amazement. He hadn’t seen me dress up before so I knew it would be a sight for him. I decided I would wear my tight black pencil skirt, and a dark blood red blouse to match with slight ruffles at the breast. Then I put on my thick dark pea coat and wrapped my black and white bandana around my hair evenly tying it into a bow on the front. For a bit more contract against my pale skin and freckles I put on my lengthy strap heels and grabbed one of my more expensive wallets. I flinched a bit as he silently stared at me from a short distance.

“You look beautiful.” he gave me a thick smile in attempt to hide his tired golden eyes. I slowly moved over to him and grabbed a free hand, giving him a smile in return.

“You know we don’t have to do this… if you’re not up to it I’d rather not anyway.I don’t want you getting hurt or having another fit.” I said trying to convince myself I was okay with the words I had just said. He shrugged a bit, letting his eyes settle along out clasped hands briefly before meeting my own.

“It’s fine. I want to take you out just as much as you deserve it. You deserve the world.” he said the words in just the right way; the kind of tone that brought a chill up my spine and made my knees almost melt to the ground. He squeezed my hand and flashed a grin, pulling me towards my door. A part of me believed everything was going to be okay and the night was going to be perfect, but another part of me wasn’t sure. I hadn’t done anything bad lately, but then again who knows? Something bad could happen before the good without even knowing it. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as we got into the elevator, praying that wasn’t going to be the case tonight.

Marc had made us reservations at a large and extravagant restaurant known as “Au Louis Cyphre” on the more expensive and reserved side of town. I hadn’t been there very often but the scenery and atmosphere were a nice change of pace for once. No cars blocking the streets for hours on end, no cops, no sketchy figures waiting underneath street lights. Everything seemed quite peaceful and content. Marc gripped my hand a little tighter in the restaurant, pulling me closer to his side a free arm wrapped tightly around my waist as we entered the building and were taken to our seats. Nervously I felt my face change to a hot shade of pink

Marc rolled himself around the table and pulled out my chair politely flashing a more than eager smirk across his cheeks.

“You’re being so polite for once.” I shot back at him gingerly taking a seat. He chewed on his tongue briefly before pushing a thumb underneath his chin.

“Gonna get in the good deeds while I can you know?” He knew joking like that made me sour. I squinted my eyes and exhaled, grabbing the menu to cover my face. I closed my eyes for a short moment when I was sure he wouldn’t reach across and knock it away from me. Thinking about all the things he’s said concerning his death made my stomach knot and my throat swell with unspeakable words.

“Excuse me ma’am?” I flinched out of my trans and stared up to see a waiter eyeing me defensively. His outfit sleek and blue, with a white undershirt similar to Marcs he had long blond hair slicked back neatly atop his head with glasses to match. I bit the tip of my tongue a little too hard and nodded quickly telling him I’d like some tea. He scribbled something I assumed was irrelevant onto his notepad and wandered off to get our drinks. Marc suppressed a snort and dove his nose into the menu silently acting as if nothing had happened.