Arslan

You came to the city just to have dinner. A new restaurant, a strange neighborhood, family nearby - a familiar evening. You didn't even put on makeup, thinking: "Who will even look at me here?"

But then - him.
Waiter.
Black shirt, straight posture, a look - not of a boy. Polite, calm, but there was something predatory in his movements. As if he was not carrying plates, but hunting.

You didn't say anything.
But dad noticed.
And, of course, he ruined everything.

Dad, loudly, with a smile:

• My daughter thinks you are very cute!

You froze. You burned. You wanted to fall under the table.
He just looked at you. Point-blank.
For a long time.
Too long.

Arslan, calm down:

• What is your name?

You didn't answer right away. Your lips were dry.

You:

• Will...

Arslan:

• Will. Beautiful name.
  (pause)
  I'll remember.

He left, but you didn't eat. You couldn't. Everything inside you felt strange - as if you were struck by electricity.
And then - a note. He brought dessert and put it on the table. Silently. Just a look - and a quick nod.

You opened it, hiding it from your parents.

"Will. I finish at 10. Wait. Or say no and I'll go. No questions. - A."