The Date

The evening air was cool, the city lights flickering like scattered stars beyond the penthouse windows. Inside, Adams stood in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his black suit. The fabric was smooth, tailored perfectly to his form, with gold trimmings catching the light at just the right angles. A flick of his wrist, and his tie straightened itself. His hair, naturally flawless, stayed effortlessly in place. He exhaled, satisfied.

Behind him, Arianna leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, golden eyes filled with curiosity. "Where are you going all dressed up like that?"

Adams didn't look away from the mirror as he adjusted his collar. "A date."

Arianna blinked. Once. Twice. Then tilted her head. "...What's a date?"

Adams paused. His fingers stilled against his cufflinks. Slowly, he turned to face her, meeting her expectant gaze. A sigh left his lips, as if realizing he should've seen this coming.