Dinner
It’s beautiful, truly beautiful. The only light being candles, illuminating the red walls perfectly and dare I say, romantically. The long table with one chair at either end, has two plates with beef and roast vegetables. A burgundy table cloth runs down the middle, with a vase with two bright red roses. Newt walks up to one of the chairs, pulling it out. “My lady,” he winks as I walk over to him, sitting down. He walks over to the other side.
“Coat off, please,” I murmur. He gives me a look before slowly taking his blue coat off and draping it over his chair.
“Of course,” he pulls his own chair out, sitting down. “Dig in,”
Dinner mainly consists of me sitting on my chair, fidgeting with the table cloth taking only a few bites at a time. Then Newt sitting only a few metres away, eating like there’s no tomorrow, letting out sensual moans from the sheer excellence of the food in front of him. It’s been a long while since he’s had Queenie’s food.
“How’s London?” I finally manage to say.
“You want to talk about London?” he asks, a look of disbelieve on his face.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I think you know,” he winks at me, causing me to choke on my food a little. It’s been about half an hour since he was bitten on the log outside, how much longer will he be like this? Will he still want me once it wears off, is my main question. The question I know will hurt the most once answered, because I already know the answer is no. I stop eating, push my chair out and stand up.
“Enjoy your meal, Mr Scamander,” I walk out and back to my room, opening the door and immediately shutting it behind me, sliding down against the door. Who would want me?
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