A Bit Too Silent of a Date

This was, without a doubt, the worst idea of Victoria's life.

She stood outside her apartment, shivering in the bitter cold, the wind cutting through her black off-shoulder mini dress like it were out to get her. Victoria's arms were crossed tightly, more out of frustration rather than warmth, as she impatiently waited for Isabelle to appear.

She began questioning why she even agreed to this stupid date. She knew damn well that Isabelle was never on time, yet here she was--freezing to death for a woman who couldn't be punctual if her life depended on it. Victoria turned on her heel, ready to go back inside when--

"I'm here!"

Victoria stopped in her tracks, her jaw tightening at the familiar annoyingly optimistic voice. She slowly turned to face Isabelle, expecting to see that obnoxiously smug grin.

"And you're late," Victoria deadpanned, her glare slicing through the faint glow of the streetlight.

"What? It was only by 48 seconds!" Isabelle defended, clasping her hands together in mock innocence. A disgusting pout quickly appeared on her lips—a horrible attempt at looking cute. The pout could have been endearing to most, but to Victoria, it was abysmal—vomit-inducing, even.

"Yeah, 48 seconds too damn late," she hissed. Without another word, she yanked the car door open and flopped down into the passenger seat, arms still crossed in pure irritation. "Just start driving dammit."

Isabelle climbed into the car with her usual confidence and started the engine. The soft hum of the car filled the space as they began to drive, but the silence between them was thick with unspoken tension. As they sped down the road, Isabelle's hand slowly, deliberately, moved from the gear shift, her fingers inching toward Victoria's thigh.

Victoria's eyes flickered to her hand, the movement too familiar, too forward. She wasn't in the mood for Isabelle's usual antics tonight. The cold air from the window felt colder suddenly, as if it had frozen over with her frustration.

"If your damn finger connects with my thigh, I swear to God, I will rip it off." Victoria warned, her voice low and dangerous. Her gaze was sharp, fixated on Isabelle's hand which was now just inches away from making contact.

The threat hit its mark instantly. Isabelle's hand freezes in place, dangling in mid-air, and then she slowly retracted her hand. She held the hand up in surrender.

"Okay, okay. No need for any more threats, love," Isabelle said, her tone was light, but it had a hint of nervousness creeping through the edges.

"And don't you dare call me any pet names," she huffed. "Acting like we're together or something." Her words lingered in the air, cold and biting, making the rest of car ride fall into an awkward silence. The tension between the two women thickened with every passing second.

The city lights outside flickered, their glow reflecting off the polished surface of the car's windows. Victoria stared out at the passing buildings, her mind spinning with frustration. She had never been one for romantic gestures or cheesy dates, and Isabelle's relentless pursuit of her was a constant source of irritation.

Soon enough, they made it to their date destination: a restaurant called 'Le Jardin Noir.' Victoria's eyes narrowed. Something about this place was odd. The name itself gave it a strange, ominous vibe, and when she glanced around. she noticed there weren't any cars or people around.

Isabelle stepped out of the car, a smug grin stretched across her face, completely oblivious to or unaffected by the tense stillness around them. Victoria, on the other hand, lingered for a moment, her gaze scanning the building. It was sleek and sophisticated, undeniably, but there was an odd emptiness to it. The lights glowing through the windows seemed warm and welcoming, yet there was no trace of life beyond them.

Victoria glanced back at Isabelle. "Are we sure you didn't just book an abandoned restaurant?" she questioned, giving one last suspicious look at the restaurant.

Isabelle laughed off the comment and made her way to the door, opening it for Victoria to enter. "It's perfectly fine, Vic. And ladies first."

"Don't try to act all gentlemen-like; it's gross," she muttered, her voice sharp, but still entered, nonetheless. She wasn't about to give Isabelle the satisfaction of her hesitation, but there was a tension in the air that she couldn't ignore.

The interior was sleek, undeniably elegant, with polished floors and dark velvet curtains flowing along the walls. Chandeliers hung above, their delicate crystals reflecting the light in strange, almost unsettling patterns. But there was something wrong—something too flawless, too immaculate, like something you would find in a high-end photo shoot rather than a place meant for regular people to actually dine in.

But there was something off—too flawless, too immaculate. The pristine nature of the place made it feel more like a display than a functioning restaurant, and the silence hung thick in the air. The space was unnervingly empty, with not a soul in sight. The grand tables stood untouched, the elegant china left unoccupied.

Victoria's gaze swept over the room. Even inside, there wasn't a single person to be seen—no servers, no patrons, nothing.

"Now's the perfect time to tell you: I rented out the entire place for just the two of us!"

"Yeah, clearly. And you obviously didn't leave any staff behind, huh?"

"I'm not that stupid, Vic. I left a couple of staff members, all right?" Isabelle replied, snapping her fingers to signal the waiter to take their orders.

The rest of the date passed in silence; the air thick with tension as Victoria made it clear she wasn't in the mood for Isabelle's usual charm.

Every time Isabelle tried to spark a conversation, she was met with short, curt replies or, more often than not, deliberate silence. Isabelle tossed out playful remarks about the food or asked how Victoria was liking her evening, but each attempt was quickly shut down.

Despite the awkwardness, Victoria couldn't shake the strange sense of relief that settled over her. It was far better than enduring Isabelle's usual attempts at charm—overly sweet gestures or flirtation. Tonight, Isabelle seemed to have accepted that Victoria wasn't going to play along, and there was something unexpectedly peaceful about that.

"So… are we going to have another date?" Isabelle asked as she led Victoria back to her car for the ride home.

Victoria sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She knew she would regret her response but said it anyway. "I'll think about a second date." Isabelle practically jumped for joy, already planning their next date on the spot.