When I look at you
"Welcome to Saint-Emillion, monsieur et mademoiselle. My name is Louise, and I will be your server for today," a slender, but very serious gentleman offered, placing two menus between Star and Marco. "May I offer you any refreshments before you order?"
Star gave Marco a puzzled look, clearly out of her comfort zone in such a wound-up establishment, but his attention was on his menu, far too focused to notice her silent plea for advice. She looked back up at the waiter and tried to pass off an unsteady grin, offering, "I'll just have...a soda? Or something? Do...do you guys have that here?"
Louise raised an eyebrow at her, his flat expression not wavering otherwise. "Yes, here at this fine dining establishment with over four hundred variations of wine over a span of sixty years…," he said dryly, drawing out his words like she was slow, "we do have...soda. Would monsieur also be having a 'soda' as well?" Star frowned. She knew he was being condescending. Dealing with nobles all her life made it easy to see that, but tonight was too special to get angry with an uptight waiter, so she let it go.
Marco finally looked up from his menu, having nearly memorized every drink from soy latte to Clos du Val, and stammered "w-water is f-fine, thanks." Star smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand and tried to keep a grin from showing. Typical Marco, takes six years to order and get the simplest thing on the menu.
"Very good, I'll bring your 'soda' and 'water' out right away," Louise mumbled, emphasizing their drinks like they put a bad taste in his mouth. Star fought down a glare as he walked away, and when he was out of sight she turned back to Marco, letting a sigh hiss out between her teeth. For a five-year anniversary dinner, it was off to a rocky start.
Usually, they just went to Brittas, or Echo Creek park for a picnic. Hell, last year they went to The Corn Shack and settled for some Cob Knobs. But between dressing up like they were going to a wedding and sitting in a stuffy, uptight place like this, and vegging out to some 'Las Llamas De La Pasión', the choice was almost too easy.
"S-so, Staaar," Marco began, flipping through his menu with his eyes glued to the pages, "how was your day? You uhm...do anything cool?" She gave him yet another puzzled look, arching an eyebrow at both his unusual question and the sweat slipping down his brow. He couldn't have been hot, could he? Even in a tux, it was still pretty cold for him to be so clammy; at least he had sleeves for corn's sake!
"Well, we went by the old house to say hi and Angie and Raphael, then we went home, we stuffed ourselves into these outfits…" she noticed Marco was half listening, staring at his menu and practically shaking. What was his deal? "Annnnd theeen, I cut off my own leg, fed it to Barco Diaz, and swore myself to a life of piracy!"
"That's pretty cool, sounds like you had fun," he offered back as he rapped his fingers against the table. Star glared at him but decided to not push the issue. Maybe he wasn't feeling well, and was just trying to show her a good time despite that? She adjusted her dress and leaned forward, catching his attention with a sly grin. "Ya know, when we're done here, we can have a little bit of anniversary-"
"Your beverages, madam, monsieur," the waiter leaned between them, placing their drinks before stepping back and producing a small notepad, "Are you quite ready to order?"
Suddenly, Marco perked up, meeting the waiter's gaze and flashing a nervous grin as Star looked on with muddled interest. "Yes sir, she'll have the Coq au Vin, and I'll have the Steak au Poivre, medium-rare."
"Damn right Imma get some Coq ow ven," Star muttered, her eyes narrowed at Marco, but he didn't seem to hear. Louise nodded, visibly more pleased by their second round of orders, and took their menus. "Right away, monsieur, thank you for choosing Saint-Emillion, enjoy your drinks." With that monotone delivery, Louise took his leave and left the two alone in silence.
Star watched the uptight, condescending man go, and when he was finally out of sight, she turned back to Marco only to find him staring at the empty table to their right, once again seemingly petrified. "I-I uhm...I hear the chicken is p-pretty good here….," he murmured nearly to himself, "It was either that or lobster, and I know you still talk to lobster claws every now and again."
"Yeah, chicken works for me. Unlike our first date, am I right?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows in his direction, but Marco didn't seem to notice.
Star frowned for like, the billionth time that night, but decided to smooth herself over and simply lean forward to grab his attention. "Marco, are you feel-"
"How are the beverages, mademoiselle, monsieur? Are they-" Louise began, but Star glared at him with annoyed malice far beyond his understanding.
"Beat it, now." She hissed at a low volume. Louise got the hint, Star's bloodthirsty glare scorching his soul, and departed at once.
Turning back to Marco, she lowered her voice even further, asking, "Are you feeling okay? You look like Tom whenever he beats Janna at...actually, anything."
Marco finally lifted his head, meeting her worried gaze before surprising her with a lopsided grin. "That petrified, huh?" He asked.
Star nodded, her frown rising to form a grin. "So how about you tell me what's on your mind, and we can tackle it together? Like always," She asked, giving him a warm smile. Marco looked down at the table, then to his suit, and then back at Star before answering with strained calmness, "it's nothing all that bad, I just...want to ask you something. It's hard to ask, but I guess everyone has to do it at some point."
"Well? Spit it out so we can enjoy our anniversary. And maybe talk smack about that waiter a little" she giggled, but Marco just smiled at her lovingly. It was clear he was captivated by both her enthusiasm and her contempt for Louise, but there was something else there too. As her laughter died down, Marco blew out a tense breath, leaned forward, and took her hands in his.
"Star, I...I uhm. I love you, and every time I look at you…," he paused, trying to remember his rehearsed words and find the courage to face her. "Every time… I look at you…," he tried again, but his words died in his throat. Star knew he was struggling, but she knew this was something important, so she smiled lovingly at him, waiting with patience for him to collect his thoughts.
"Every time...I look at you...I'm reminded of just how much...things have changed." Star's smile wavered after that last bit. 'That was...unexpected,' she thought.
"From magic being erased, to Earth and Mewni being cleaved," Marco continued, finding his voice, "Things have changed, so much. But...I'm okay with that. We moved in together, went to college together, went to Chile together-"
"I still can't believe there weren't chili cook-offs everywhere," Star grumbled, but let Marco continue
He leaned closer to her. 'Corn, he looks terrified...why is he so nervous?' Star couldn't help but worry something serious was wrong, and a knot began to form in the pit of her stomach. What if he was breaking up with her…?
"Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of how much things have changed, but I'm also reminded of the one thing that's always been constant. ...Our friendship."
"Marco, you do know we've been dating for like, five years right?" She asked, barely suppressing a snort. He nodded and elaborated for her. "You've always been right by my side, my best friend, my other half, we've faced every hurdle together, without fail. And now... I-I...I want…"
He was almost shaking now, but Star continued to wait patiently for him to finish whatever it was he was trying to say. "I-I want….Would you...w-will...will you marry me?" He asked, producing a small black velvet box. Star's eyes widened as she mentally slapped herself for missing the obvious signs of a friggin proposal!
He opened the small box, revealing a coiled band of gold with silver inlays, crested with a small, blood-red ruby as big as a raisin. Star couldn't help but smile wider than she'd ever smiled before, her eyes shining as Marco struggled to keep his trembling under control. His skin was three shades whiter than it normally was, and Star's smile started to falter when her eyes met his.
"Marco...is this why you wanted to come here of all places for our anniversary?" She asked, giving him a reassuring grin. He nodded, still waiting for her answer. Star leaned back in her chair and shook her head, shooting him a smirk.
"Babe, you didn't have to go through all of this," she gestured around the wide dining room, to his suit, her dress, even that snobby Louise, before taking his hands into hers, "just to propose. You know me better than just about anyone, so you should know how much I hate all the grandeur and the pageantry of these kinda places."
Marco seemed to deflate a little, his efforts going down in smoke, but Star held up his chin to keep his eyes locked with hers. "Our first date together, do I even have to remind you?" She asked, her lips turned up into a grin. Marco shook his head and began to smile just as well at the memory. "No, no you do not. Oh my god, Tom was sooo mad at us for dressing like chickens."
"Hey, he never specified what we should wear for the double date. I still don't think he's let that one go," Star laughed. Marco shook his head and laughed at the idea until he was reminded of another. "You remember our first anniversary? We literally blew the roof off of that place trying to dance better than anyone else!"
"'A little turn, give em a little kick, 'Not that kinda kick, Star'," she mocked in a deeper voice. He blushed as he laughed, but at least he was laughing now, which was all Star was concerned with. She didn't want to be all dolled up for this uptight snob-fest, and she was sure that Marco would rather be with her, in some P.J's, watching soap operas, and enjoying their Thursday in peace.
She looked at him and beamed, kicking his leg under the table to grab his attention. "Every time I look at you, Marco Diaz, I'm reminded of everything I love about you."
"Such as?" He asked with scores more confidence than he had been displaying up until this point. Star gave him another under the table kick for that, but decided to elaborate. "You're dependable, trustworthy, nice, smart, you're suuuper tough and just oh soo manly," she mockingly swooned, more for her amusement than his, "you treat me like a princess when I want it, and treat me like a queen when I need it. You're my best friend too, Marco. And whenever I need to be reminded of that, I just think about you. And all of the wild, weird stuff we've done together."
Marco's eyes were shining as he tried to keep his smile under control, Star stroking his hands with her own. "So just relax, Marco. It doesn't take much to impress me when I already share a bed with the guy of my dreams."
He gave her a firm nod, feeling guilty for going as far as Saint-Emillion for his choice of venue, but found his attention drifting back down to the box in his hands. "So...is that...a yes?" He asked, a little bit of nerve shaking his voice.
Star huffed and rolled her eyes, but grinned at him as an idea popped into her head. "If I say yes, can we ditch Louise and go get some Brittas?" Marco seemed initially taken by the counter-offer, but smiled and nodded yes. Star leaned forward and ruffled his goatee before pressing her lips to his and holding him in a deep kiss that seemed to last...about five seconds before someone cleared their throat.
"Are...monsieur and mademoiselle...ahem, ready to eat?" Louise asked, a clear air of discomfort and distaste about him. Star awkwardly pulled back, eying him with discontent. "No thanks. We're gonna go somewhere else, but thank you for the food. We'd like it to go," she stated dryly before slapping Marco's wallet on the table.
Louise cocked an eyebrow and looked at Marco, who merely shrugged and nodded, pulling a few larger bills and handing them to the waiter. Louise finally smiled and nodded to himself before packing their food and sending them on their way.
Half an hour later, Marco and Star sat atop the highest hill in Echo Creek with a bag of burritos, a worn-out friendship blanket, and about three thousand stars twinkling above. She scooched closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, whispering, "This beats the snot out of Santa Million."
"Saint-Emillion, Star. And yeah, it really does."
"Let's never go there again," she breathed lovingly against his ear, smiling to herself.