Fighting with the Waitress

They were interrupted by the same waitress with blue hair rolled in a bun, whose heart fluttered at the sight of Sebastian. She was carrying some drinks in her hands and placed the drinks on the table before leaving. 

Sebastian opened his eyes and raised his brow in a mocking gesture. "Well. Do you want to know or not?"

Atlas furrows his brow before bobbing his head, his movement a silent curiosity. He is curious about Sebastian's age. He knows that vampires can live for a long time. Could he be around one hundred or two hundred years old?

Sebastian reveals a cocky grin, then tilts his head. "Want to guess before I tell you?"

Atlas releases a huff, a frown mirroring on his face. He took a sip from the glass. "Why don't you just tell me? No need to act mysterious?"

Sebastian's fingers tap on the table repeatedly, a rhythm that continues to roll in his mind. "Although I can't remember the exact number of my age. But I am around five hundred years old."

"Cough! Cough!"

He choked on his water and patted his chest roughly before he could calm down. He set down the glass and asked sputteringly. "You're joking with me."

Sebastian lets out a soft chortle, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I'm afraid not."

Atlas's eyes look at him with speechlessness. "Does that mean you have seen savage people wearing wigs, cloaks, and dresses, or people using swords and everything?"

A pondering thought appeared on his face before he looked at him with a strange expression. "D—Did you ever wear a loincloth?"

How did we get to this conversation?!

His face twitches from time to time, each word spewing out from Atlas's mouth. Sebastian released an exaggerated sigh. "Idiot. It was the beginning of civilization. Of course, I had to wear stuff like that. It was that time of the era."

The same waitress came back and asked with a reserved smile. "Are you guys ready to order?"

Although her smile was reserved, her eyes were lingering on Sebastian. Sebastian was accustomed to the looks, looks that were drawn to him like disgusting flies drawn to honey, unaware that honey can contain toxins within it. 

Sebastian looks at her with a beaming smile, his dark thoughts hidden behind his friendly facade. "Yes. We're ready now."

They ordered the food they wanted to eat. She left them alone after Atlas hissed at her, his teeth pinching his lips. He snapped, eyes blazing with displeasure. "Hey. Do your job. You don't get paid for staring at him."

The waitress was stunned, eyes widening in a saucer. She stuttered, "I—I'm not staring at him. I was—was—"

Atlas's lips curled in a sneer, "Really? Why did I see drool coming out of your mouth when you were staring at him like a besotted fool?"

Atlas was about to say more, but he was startled by a light kick at his ankle beneath the table. Sebastian's eyes became stern, despite the soft words. "Hey. That's enough now. You can leave now." 

The waitress smiled in relief, thinking he meant the words for the boy. Atlas sputtered in shock, hurt flashing across his eyes. "W—What?"

The waitress grinned; the soft words were spoken like poison. "You heard him. He said you should leave—"

Sebastian's lips curled into a frown. He cut off her words. His brow raised in an arc. "I was talking to you. You should leave. You stayed long enough. You're supposed to take our food now."

Atlas let out a relieved sigh. He couldn't believe he said those things. It was like his mouth had its mind. He just started talking before he could think things through.

The waitress was filled with indignation. Her heart burned savagely beneath her skin like waiting for the moment to crawl out. Her eyes widened, and she exhaled a frustrated sigh. She told herself to count before she said anything that she couldn't take back. 

"Alright."

She leaves after glaring at Atlas with a ferociousness that makes Atlas's heart skip a beat. Regardless, he consoled himself that she can't do anything because Sebastian will protect him. Wait. D—Did he just say that Sebastian will protect him? He knows better; he can't trust anyone—not even Sebastian. No one can protect him, except himself. 

Sebastian raised his brow; disapproval is visible in every stance in his expression. He asks Atlas, "What the hell was that about?"

Sebastian watches his expression twist with confusion and unease. He watches him swallow hard before his head hunches between his shoulder blades. "I—I don't know. I just got really mad. I—I"

Sebastian relaxes his tone; he didn't want Atlas to be filled with apprehension. He's not certain, but he doesn't do well when someone yells at him. 

Sebastian reaches out his left hand and wraps it around Atlas's clenched fist on the table next to the glass. He said in a calming voice, the one that calmed Atlas's anxiety. "Hey. I'm not mad. I just want to know why you lashed out like that. It's not like you."

Atlas looks up with his hair scattered across his forehead. He looks smaller than usual, haunted even. Sebastian was certain that Atlas wasn't aware that his hands had also wrapped around Sebastian's hand as well. If Sebastian was a human, his wrist would have been twisted painfully.

Sebastian watches him swallow a couple of times. The silence was deafening, not in a bad way, just calm and a little peaceful. 

Atlas opens his words, words softer than a feather. "I—I didn't like the way she looked at you. It hurts when she does that."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed in realization. He wasn't certain if Atlas was aware of what his words sounded like. From what he understood of Atlas, it's possible that Atlas wasn't aware of his real feelings. Was it because he's naive or inexperienced? 

Atlas looks down, feeling vulnerable more than usual. He pulls away and looks up; his face is expressionless. 

He asked Sebastian. "Where's the bathroom?"

Sebastian gestured with his head toward the bathroom down the hall, into the shadows where it's darker, except for the light dancing across the hard floor.