Felix's Sister

Chapter Thirty-Nine Pan's POV

Felix's Sister

Chapter Thirty-Nine
Pan's POV

Awkwardly, Cyrus walked to the table and sat down. I sat in the other chair and did my best to smile at her but she still seemed uncomfortable. She looked at the table. "Looks like you put some thought into this," she said.

"Uh, yeah," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. "I don't know you too well so I wasn't sure what you'd like to do. I figured dinner was the best option and I wanted to make it... um, special, I guess."

She nodded slowly. "Well, it's nice."

"Yes, so," I cleared my throat. "What's your favorite food?"

She thought for a moment. "Fettuccine Alfredo."

"Ok."

I flicked my wrist and she looked down at her now-filled plate. She tensed, glancing up at me uneasily.

"Oh, relax, it's not poisoned," I told her.

She was quite for another minute. "Ok," she said slowly, picking up her fork. "For one night only, I will trust you. And if you break that trust, I will become your worst nightmare."

I chuckled. "Oh but you already are." She raised an eyebrow, setting down her fork. "You see, Cyrus, you make me feel something that I haven't felt in a long time. Whether that be love or- or something else, it doesn't matter. This feeling could very well distract me from my plans but at the same time, it makes me almost, happy. So, while you are my worst nightmare, you are also my most beautiful dream."

Her eyes widened slightly, shocked that I would say something like that. "Huh," she picked up her glass of water and took a sip. "That was deep. Maybe you do have a heart inside that chest of yours."

"Maybe so."

For a while we ate in silence, until she set down her fork and looked at me. "Ok, something's been bothering me," she said. "When we first met, we were trying to kill each other, and now, we're on a date. Why?"

I shrugged. "Why not?"

"I'm serious, Pan," she said. "You could've made me agree to kill Rumplestiltskin or Emma or do anything else but all you ask for is a date?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Why does someone usually ask someone else on a date?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not so stupid as to believe you like me."

"Well that's your own problem."

She pursed her lips. "I'm sorry but if I'm going to get through this evening with my sanity, I'm gonna need a stronger drink."

She waved her hand and a bottle of white wine appeared on the table. She filled the two glasses and handed me one. "Massarosa Frascati," she said as she lifted her own glass. "I find it goes well with Alfredo."

I raised an eyebrow and sipped the wine, nodding. "Are you old enough for wine?" I asked jokingly.

"Are you?"

"Touché," I smiled. "Really though, how old are you?"

She sipped her drink and then set the glass down. "It's not polite to ask for a girl's age," she said with a half-smile.

"I'm gonna say, around three hundred and fifty?" I guessed and she gave me an irritated look. "Am I close?"

"Three-eighteen," she stated. "What about you?"