Four Weeks Prior

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Sucking in a huge breath of air, Anthony slowly reached his hand into his pocket, leather ring case brushing against his fingers as he did so. He clenched his hand in a fist around it, flashing Ian a small, insecure smile across the table before retracting his hand from the pocket, case in hand. He held it tightly underneath the table, concealing it beneath the folds of the silk table cloth.

Ian only raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of his wine that he was only drinking to entertain Anthony. If he were to come clean, he would admit that wine sucked ass compared to all the different kinds of alcohol in the world. But, since it wouldn't kill him to make Anthony happy, he drank it at Italian restaurants anyways.

It wasn't like he wasn't happy to be at Decapo's; actually, he loved it. The restaurant itself was rather enjoyable with its lavish Italian scenery and decor, but what really made it was the food. Perhaps it was Ian's cheese addiction, or maybe just because of the sauce, but it was amazing, and Ian didn't care to explore reason as long as he was satisfied. It was that small quality that defined him as careless in job terms, but, as it was stated, he didn't give a fuck.

He could see Anthony biting his lip and had to suppress the sigh of admiration threatening to escape him; God, he was in so fucking deep. It wasn't like when he was with Melanie, or Audrey, or even Jess. None of the people he had bonded to before had ever gotten to him in this way before. It was like... Well, there were no words for it except love.

Letting out a small snort of laughter, he gazed into Anthony's dark eyes. Yeah, it was love alright.

Anthony was glad that Ian seemed to be enjoying himself. The date was going well, Ian was content in his own thoughts. Everything was going oh-so-perfectly. Anthony knew there was something up. Smooth stuff never pulls through.

Ruffling his own hair, Anthony realized that he had been biting his lip the entire time. He let the bit of skin excape his teeth, then found himself biting down again, chewing. He took a sip of his wine. Before he let himself swim in the feeling of the small quantity of alcohol entering his system, he pushed his chair out from the table, then stood, ring case secure in one hand behind his back.

Then, suddenly, all the blood in his body seemed to rise to the skin. He could feel himself blushing, and, if that wasn't enough, sticky sweat began to bead on the back of his neck. Anxiety rose in him, and he suddenly could feel his hands shaking slightly.

Evacuate! Evacuate! All systems shut down, it's a code red! Get us out of here, Captain, we don't have the time to fool around!

He sat back down and grabbed his wine glass, quickly downing the entire cup. He sat it down gently and swiped his sleeve across his mouth, wiping off the remnants. Then, realizing the ring container was still in his hand, he hastily stowed it away in his pocket.

Now was not the time.

Ian's eyebrows knitted together with concern, confusion, and concealed realization from across the table for two. He knew what had just happened, but didn't say anything.

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