The White Death - A RWBY Fanfiction

Dinner

POV - Neon

When Whitley offered to take us all out to dinner I was ecstatic, I had never been to any of the luxury restaurants in Atlas, or any really.

"Having trouble Neon," Whitley asked me.

But if I had been told just how sophisticated this restaurant was, I would have done some research first.

"There's just so many options, and those options have options," I answered. Gods I felt out of place, it didn't help that I could feel so many eyes on me.

'That's not what I'm talking about," Whitley said, "You seem bothered, what's wrong?"

'He really knows how to read people doesn't he'

"I can feel people staring at me," I said.

Ilia looked at me with a concerned but calm look on her face. I know she could feel it too, I know she was being stared at and well, "Not used to it," Ilia asked, seemingly unbothered by the uninvited looks.

That shocked me, did she not care, was she used to it, "No, no I'm really not," I answered.

Whitley looked around the room, scanning it even, he was looking for someone. Suddenly he stopped and motioned for someone to come over to us. As I looked at who he motioned for I noticed our waiter making his way over to the table.

"Is something wrong sir," the waiter asked politely.

Whitley stood up and whispered something in the man's ear. With all the noises around me I couldn't quite make out what he told him, but judging by the wide eyed response from the waiter it had to be something serious.

"Right away sir," the waiter said before rushing off.

"What was that about," I asked.

Whitley said nothing, but as I looked to Ilia to see if she heard anything I saw that she had a massive grin spread across her face.

"What did you say," I asked.

"Just wait," Whitley said.

"If I had to guess it has something to do with what I'm going to call Schnee Privilege," Flynt said.

I looked to the door that the waiter had rushed into and saw who I assumed was the manager or maybe the owner coming rushing out. He scanned the restaurant before his eyes landed on our table. He took a second to regain his composure and walked over to our table.

"Hello Mister Schnee, what can I do for you," he asked.

"No need to be so formal Ram, I didn't choose to come here to be treated like my father likes to be treated," Whitley said.

"What's the matter Whitley," Ram asked with a far calmer tone.

"Be subtle and look around the room," Whitley said.

He did what Whitley said and subtly looked around the room.

"What's the matter with what you see," Whitley asked.

"They seem to have a great deal of interest in your company," Ram said.

"Yes and it is making my company uncomfortable, is there anything that can be done about this," Whitley asked.

Ram said nothing in return, seemingly lost in thought.

"Yes, follow me please," Ram answered.

Whitley stood up and grabbed his jacket from the hanger before turning to look at the three of us, "Are you three waiting for an invitation," he said before following Ram.