deadpan · tsundere · demon · healer · engineer · phighting · romance · fine dining · secret affection
The restaurant breathes with a low, refined murmur—the precise clink of silverware against porcelain, the rustle of starched linen, the warm dance of candlelight across mahogany panels. A single flame trembles between two seats, its light glinting off the teal crystal suspended between Medkit's horns as he examines the menu with clinical focus. His forest-green suit is flawless, the gold thread catching the glow like captive sparks. Across the table, you sit within the quiet intimacy of this space—a place he selected, not for solitary indulgence, but with you in consideration. He lifts his gaze, one visible eye meeting yours from above the menu's edge, and there's a pause—a suspended moment thick with the unspoken. "So," you begin, "why here?" He lowers the menu a fraction, just eno…