Prompt: Person B is tall and Person A is short. On their date, they go to a restaurant, and the lights hang low over the table. When Person B leans in for a kiss, they hit their head on the light. Person A laughs.

Wheatley spun the fork around in his fingers, trying to look like he had been using it the entire time. Chell was happily tucking into a meal while looking up at Wheatley, who absently stabbed his fork in every once and a while.

"Did you want to watch that movie when we got home?"

"We could, if it's not too late. I wouldn't mind that."

"Okay," Wheatley said, glancing around at the other patrons in the restaurant. For once, he was also feeling nervous about people noticing how he wasn't eating anything. That was easier to avoid in counter service restaurants where he just didn't order anything, but this was a slightly fancier place. Everyone had at least two plates on their table and were only sharing tiny portions. Nobody was sharing a plate.

When Chell looked up to see Wheatley nervously looking around and trying to observe what everyone else was doing, she took his hand and gave it a small squeeze.

"You know that nobody's going to care here, right?" Wheatley turned his head to face her, eyes widening.

"Are you sure about that luv? I just feel more exposed here. Even the waiter asked me three times if I was okay getting my own plate, since you ordered 'n' all and I had to just nod along, because what do I know about food, I can't eat it anyway, it's just more for you—"

"Are you two enjoying the meal?" The waiter dipped into their conversation, adjusting the tray on their shoulder.

"Yes," Chell replied curtly, while Wheatley quickly shoved his fork into the meal, making the motion to raise it to his lips until the waiter left their presence, and he placed it back down again with no intention of eating it.

Why had those people bothered to give him taste buds in the first place if they were bloody useless?

Resuming the conversation, Chell placed her fork down and took his other hand. "It's going to be fine. Everyone here is too absorbed in their dining partner to care about us."

Wheatley looked around again. He felt like he was seeing a mirror image of what they were doing right now. Couple holding hands across the table, or clearly touching legs under the tablecloth. One person looking at their partner with complete adoration, and the other talking or eating, not fully registering how lovingly they were—had those people just kissed?

Wheatley felt Chell's hand shift in his grip, and he turned to her, straightening as he did so.

Honestly, the soft glow of the restaurant looked very appealing on her. Especially with the fact she had left her hair down, and her shirt was a very nice sky blue.

The urge to kiss her wasn't overwhelming, but still… Wheatley began to lean forward, intent on giving her a romantic kiss—

"Ouch!" Wheatley's systems provided the appropriate response to sudden pain, and Chell laughed. He'd hit his head on the light! Who's idea was that to put them so low? Honestly, people his height would also be hitting their heads on the thing if they tried to kiss their significant other.

Chell, still trying to stifle her laughter, put a hand up to stop the swinging light. Some couples nearby returned their meals, the small spectacle over. Wheatley felt embarrassed, hearing his systems begin to overwork to compensate. Gently, he tried to tell them to relax, so that his coolant wouldn't come on and turn his face blue.

Luckily, this worked. He'd never bothered to try before, and was quite surprised when his systems willingly calmed down. It probably wouldn't work for everything, he mused, such as….

Chell kissing his cheek suddenly, as she easily avoided the light like the clever and wonderful woman she was, and he felt his systems begin to heat up again.

"I'm going to the restroom," he whispered, covering his cheeks as they began to turn cooler, but still grinning at the idea of her kiss.

What a beautiful, clever, and perfect lady she was.