Oliver Burton

A stretch limo? Why would they send something so.... dramatic? Cabs were not his preference and yet perhaps this time he should have. He had placed an order for a sedan limo, a plain sleek black Mercedes. Instead, they sent him this? His preferred choice was far more efficient than this cry for attention. He could more than afford it, that was hardly the problem. The excess seemed like such a waste. Chizue accused the businessman of being a fancy pants under her breath as she climbed into the over-the-top, luxury limo without protest. Would she have even believed him if he claimed this was not what he had ordered? Despite his own irritation, he directed the driver where they were going. The chauffeur appeared surprised and yet dipped his head agreeance in a professional manner. "Absurd that they would send this of all things." He muttered quietly after the driver closed the door securely behind them.

Pinprick LED lights shimmered like stars up above their heads. The vehicle seemed much too large for just two people on such a short journey. Yet worst of all, it drew even more attention. However, Chizue hardly seemed to mind even though she remained mostly quiet on the drive to their location. Oliver unfolded his tall frame from the limo's opened door. He still offered a polite thanks and a curt dip of his head, the mix-up was hardly the driver's fault and he did still need transportation. The driver pulled away to park the vehicle, but it was much too late. He could not help the incredibly curious looks they were receiving that such a vehicle prompted. At least they were easy enough to ignore.

Instead, he eyed Chizue who seemed pleased as she happily pointed out a vacant bench for them to sit. The woman grinned warmly as if entirely pleased that her plan had worked out. Oliver led the way, keeping close to his companion, leaning in slightly. "I could not have planned it better myself." Oliver spoke quietly, as his gaze shifted toward the woman who secured her spot upon the bench of her choosing. One that the Englishman took his place at her side with his food placed as neatly as possible on his lap. The rushing sound of moving water from that fountain drowned out the sound of the city. It was a lovely night to be out. The lights around them only added to it, lighting up the woman's features in a most flattering way.

Yet she seemed quiet, her mood seemed to be a fluctuating thing from the bubbly woman she had been in the restaurant. Yet it hardly stopped him from striking up a form of conversation between them. She flicked away his attempt at conversation with a mere dismissive gesture of her hand and the shrug that accompanied it. That admittance that she often didn't leave her house much anymore unless work 'made her'. This only prompted the question, now that she didn't have work... Did that mean she would not leave? "Could you be persuaded to leave?" He questioned, he turned his head with his food container that was now placed upon his lap. Her chocolate-hued eyes already looked out distantly, landing upon a group of youthful girls excitedly chattering as they walked by them, to disappear into the mall behind the pair. Perhaps he bore her. Or was it that she was hungry? He realized that his companion had no food of her own. How had he not ensured she procured something for herself? It hardly sat well with him.

Chizue was hardly his and yet she was within his company and he felt responsible for her in some inexplicable way. It only seemed amplified by that same nagging desire he had to keep her safe. That desire to know she was... cared for. At least while she was here with him. Yet why did he feel this way around her? It was not like he was like this with every woman he had met. Her attention was suddenly drawn to him as if she couldn't believe his inquiry if she was hungry even though she did consider it regardless. The admittance that she was peckish and ate a few days. The were-polar bear could not help but gape at the woman. A few days? He could not even fathom such a thing. A few days without food and he would certainly have become crazed. That offer to share the meal upon his lap was the least he could do.

A frown settled upon his masculine features. He had failed her as far as he was concerned. That was when she seemed to backpedal and revealed that she was not accustomed to American food yet. A waitress that did not like the food they served, to endure taking orders and talking about food she had no interest in. Perhaps it was a good thing that she quit. "Is there something else you would prefer? Just say it and I will make it happen." Two days and she was merely peckish? Yet how little he knew about vampire feeding habits, least of all, her own. How easy it was to forget what she was when she appeared so human to him, if it were not her own unique scent or warmth he would have never suspected. She seemed to insist that he should enjoy his meal.

He would not argue, he was hungry. Oliver began to pick at his the still-warm meal before him, the rich scents and flavours rushed to greet him. He could have sighed in relief at the first flavourful mouthful upon his tongue. A distinct rumble of appreciation escaped him. American food or not, it had ticked off the boxes of what he and his inner carnivore desired. Although, it was far more like comfort food than what he usually ate. It was the feel of her leaning into him that caused him to pause, far too aware of her presence so near. Enough to smell the scent of her shampoo from her pretty silken dark locks. Close enough to catch the teasing look within her eye that matched her words as his fork paused midway to his mouth.

"What?" He inquired confused, distracted momentarily... before he turned to notice another group of gossipy teenage girls, one flat-out gawked at the pair before she turned to whisper to her group of friends. He had never been approached by teenagers before. Usually, it was gold-digging women at the galas he was forced to endure. Or those that even tried to solicit him at his place of work. Never teenagers. Thank god.

"Oh. I certainly hope not." That accented rumbling voice escaped his lips. He promptly returned his attention toward the woman at his side. It was his turn to lean in just a little, enough that the slight lingering smell of his cologne which mingled with her own scent. It was an easy thing for him to draw closer into her space. "Especially not when I would rather focus on my present company." There was no sense to hide his interest in her. Of the many things Oliver was, shy was not one of them.