It's NOT a date... (Arc/Lani, Private-ish)(NSFW)

"White," Jay said, picking one of the two sweeter options more or less at random. Seeing the interaction between the waiter and her made him even more sure that she had a very big thing for fondue. Not that he wasn't convinced before.

Phoebe nodded, stating her order and beaming. The waiter shook his head, clearly amused, and walked off. He hadn't bothered to ask what kind of cooking style or food they wanted for the entrees. That was probably a warning sign. Still, she didn't seem phased.

"So I guess if I ever make you mad, fondue is the way to go, huh?" Jay asked after the waiter left to go bring them... Whatever mystery it was that Phoebe decided on.

She made a face at him, somewhat pouty, like one might have expected of a spoiled child. It was an apt description. "If you ever made me mad, you'd be lucky to live through it," she said, chiding darkly as she looked at him, eyes narrowed.

"I don't quite mean the 'I've betrayed you and everything you stand for,' kind of mad. That won't be happening," Jay said, shaking his head. "More like, 'I've prodded you one too many times, and now you won't talk to me,' kind of mad."

The way her eyes continued to narrow suggested that she was asking what the difference was. Still, she looked away from him, tapping her fingers on the table as she looked out the window, gaze far off. She'd participate in a conversation if one was initiated, but without it she was merely content to sit, wait, and think.

"Wait, are you the 'won't talk to me' sort of mad right now? Shit, but we're already having fondue..." Jay said, leaning forward more, and keeping the hint of a smile off of his face as he tried to look concerned. "The plan was good, but I've been foiled."

She tried not to have a faint smile on her face when she side-eyed him, but it was hard to know. Phoebe knew that he was joking, no matter how well he masked his expression. It made her want to kick him. Or kiss him. It was a toss up on her end, though she knew his preference. "Yeah but this is my treat." The horn witch told him definitively, alerting him that he was not going to get to pay for this meal.

"That's fine. Next time we go out to eat, it can be mine," Jay said, allowing the smile he had been hiding to make it's way right back. He could tell he'd amused her, at least, which was enough for him for the time being.

Phoebe's eyes rolled and she turned to look at him directly, brow cocked as she folded her arms on the table and leaned towards him. "You're awfully hopeful for someone who keeps trying to annoy me~"

"I'm trying to get to date you. Can't help that you want to be annoyed by it," Jay shot back with a cheeky smile, word choice picked rather carefully.

She leaned in closer to him, eyes narrowed more flirtatiously now, "You think you want to date me." She asserted. Lucky for him, this wasn't the form that had any inclination towards hypnosis; she could enchant, like this, but little more. "I don't think you know what you're asking."

"No, I'm sure I do," Jay said, smiling again at her narrow-eyed expression. He didn't mind the verbal jousts at all, and he had an answer to her second statement too. "If you're sure, then help me find out all about it."

Her lips pursued, and she pushed back on the table to sit more rightly in her place. He was a stubborn one h- that Jay. She couldn't genuinely say that she was surprised, but it used to be so easy to dance around offers and requests of commitment. Of course, Jay was technically only requesting that they get together be considered dates. Those weren't inherently commitments in and of themselves, but with how more modern day society went, going on dates did technically --- and grammatically --- dictate that they were dating. That just simply wouldn't do. Returning her attention outside, she found herself at a loss for a quip. She didn't like how often that happened with him.

He had to be stubborn if he was to get anything done with her own stubbornness. He was never going to get her to be his or accept him fully otherwise. When her lack of words meant that he had nothing to say anything back to, his gaze followed hers out of the window. He didn't expect to find anything interesting, and there really was nothing there.

Phoebe had to force herself to analyze details in order to not get bored, but she was soon enough done with her tantrum and focusing on him again, in no small part because two cups of white wine had arrived. It was the same kind that they'd find in the cheese later, but that seemed to be the point, at least to her. Two glasses of water were set down as well; sometimes she bothered to be responsible with her drinking habits. Taking the glass with a smile, she swirled it gently before sniffing and then sipping. Soon, her face flushed again, softly.

"I forgot to ask if you drink wine." She noted, having not recalled a time where he'd specifically done so. Well, at least there was still water.

His attention was similarly brought back to the inside by the arrival of the glasses, though partially als him noticing her own head turning back away from the window. "Sure," Jay answered, pulling the glass towards himself. He wasn't drinking from it just yet, though his hand was situated around the base of the glass and he was certainly planning on it.

Relief seemed to flood her face, and she tilted the glass slightly towards him before drinking from it again. It had been a minor bit of carelessness, but carelessness nonetheless. "Have you had foundues before?" She asked politely. Being rude wouldn't do, especially not for long.

"Not for a long time. Once or twice, since they came over to North America, maybe?" Jay said, trying to remember, swilling the wine while he did so. "Probably not quite like this, either. They've changed, have they not?" he added, taking a drink from his glass.

"Everything does," she asserted in agreement, ignoring, rather blatantly, how the statement applied to herself. Phoebe had never given away her exact age, hinting at various points in history that she may or may not have been present for over the years, but she liked to think that she was the same as before, as a whole. It was a bold-faced lie, especially if one saw how she interacted with him compared to some of the nobility and royalty she'd taunted and seduced in the past. She'd gotten soft, or perhaps just lonely, or perhaps just in love, but she would never agree. Never admit it.

Everything does. The assertion, for him, was something all too powerful. It made him grimace, though briefly. Everything, everyone changes. The people around him changed, all too often. He changed, when he realised that staying the same, always letting people in, was getting too much. He had to. But now he was doing it again, hopeful, so hopeful that he could change her enough to accept him and to make the commitment she wanted so badly to avoid.

When he didn't respond she ended up looking into her cup, pausing for a moment before downing it and pushing it so that it could be easily reached by a raider. The water was next, but she at least went back to a more reasonable drinking pace.

He didn't much want to think about such things now, when he was trying to enjoy himself at least a bit. He sighed, taking a drink from the wine and looked back outside the window. He tried not to look completely melancholic, and he half-succeeded, trying to turn his thoughts to something else.

She'd not made any attempt to fully end the conversation, and the more quiet and awkward, depressive even, that it got, the more she seemed to unsettle. Was it his imagination or was the color in her hair becoming less vibrant? Moving to her purse, she ended up taking out her phone and notebook. When she ate alone, she would research and write. Without her present company and herself being able to keep up a proper conversation, it was feeling like the only thing she could do to busy herself.

Once his head-space settled and he turned his head back look at Phoebe, he found her to already have her stuff out. He wouldn't have said anything, having nothing to add to the previous subject, but he found it curious that she didn't seem as bright colour wise as she did before. Was it the lighting? He looked up to the ceiling and around the area they were sitting but he could discern no difference. In the end his curiosity got the best of him and he half-stood up, reaching and leaning across the table, to lift a lock of her hair and get a slightly better look.