[Of course he's laughing at her. Who wouldn't? She obviously has no business being here, doing any of the things she's doing. As much as it makes sense he recognize her for the foolish loser she is, Ryder still feels that rush of hurt and embarrassment. What crosses her face, luckily still half hidden by the menu, is bordering on hatred born out of years and years of assuming the worst of others. His words don't sink in immediately. When they do, her expression goes blank, unable to land cleanly on a new emotion. Directions unclear. She needs a fucking map, or something.]
Um.
[Okay. Uhhh. Shit. What was she in the mood for? Running away and crying in a closet. Throwing up, maybe. Neither of those will have an equivalent on the menu. Crying to her mommy makes her think of pasta. What if this makes her hate pasta, though? She doesn't want to hate pasta. She doesn't want to hate this guy either, she decides, even if he's confusing her.
Because I'm tired of looking at various menus, eventually, after a lot of stumbling over herself, Ryder manages to give a general idea that Teo can match, and she decides to trust him on it. Really, she'd like to skip straight to dessert. Or have waffles. No, she's having this lamb something or other! Oh thank god, the wine's here.]
Y -- [If she addresses her glass, it's a little easier.] You -- cook?
[That's pretty amazing... Are escorts just perfect people? That would make sense.]
no subject
Um.
[Okay. Uhhh. Shit. What was she in the mood for? Running away and crying in a closet. Throwing up, maybe. Neither of those will have an equivalent on the menu. Crying to her mommy makes her think of pasta. What if this makes her hate pasta, though? She doesn't want to hate pasta. She doesn't want to hate this guy either, she decides, even if he's confusing her.
Because I'm tired of looking at various menus, eventually, after a lot of stumbling over herself, Ryder manages to give a general idea that Teo can match, and she decides to trust him on it. Really, she'd like to skip straight to dessert. Or have waffles. No, she's having this lamb something or other! Oh thank god, the wine's here.]
Y -- [If she addresses her glass, it's a little easier.] You -- cook?
[That's pretty amazing... Are escorts just perfect people? That would make sense.]