He's not going to come...
She wished she could stop repeating it to herself, although she knew that she was hoping against the hope.
She knew better than to light the candles atop the tastefully decorated table for two. The intricately bent neon light tubes illuminated the place enough, in fact more than she wanted. The entire concept of candle light dinner had dissolved into a cliche in the 'so called' Gotham's romantic haven. And despite having secured a table for two in an unassuming corner, she could not be 'not seen', especially in bright red.
He's not going to come...
Her eyes darted impulsively on the wall clock. 8:00PM! She's been waiting for an hour and a half now. The restaurant management didn't seem to be bothered by that, for her presence attracted customers and they wouldn't worry about the one table which wouldn't accommodate the pour in.
He's not going to come...
9:00 PM - She was right all the time... He didn't come!
So much for a romantic night out!
She rose from her chair and looked wearily at the unlit candles.
"What was I thinking?"
And then, without a word of warning, she was air borne and out of the restaurant. If they can benifit from her being there, they migh as well bear the expense of a broken window.
I knew that he wouldn't come...
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