"So, Augustine, how was your date last night?" Diantha asks innocently.

Augustine nearly spits out his drink. "You!" he gasps, still coughing and sputtering. "You set that all up, didn't you! The, the wine, and the engagement ring, and, and everything! It was all your doing!"

"Now, now," she says, wagging a finger at him. "You were the one who accepted the reservations and invited Lysandre along. And Lysandre was the one who decided to offer his jacket to you. You were just so awkward the whole time, my dear, it was very entertaining!"

"You—wha—you were there?!"

"Of course! Portraying one half of a young married-couple-to-be was child's play. And I needed to make sure the waiters did their jobs correctly, didn't I?"

"How did I not notice you?!"

"I'm an actress, my dear," she says haughtily, sticking her nose up in the air for greater effect. "And besides, I rather suspect that you didn't have any attention left to spare, seeing as how it was all focused on dreamily staring at your handsome date."

Diantha does her best to maintain her 'snobbish actress' air, but can't help breaking out into fits of giggles at the pout on Augustine's face.

"You're terrible," he huffs, crossing his arms and turning his head away from her pointedly.

"But you love me anyway, darling," she coos, blowing him a kiss.

"So help me, I do," he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"So tell me," she says, leaning in conspiratorially, "how was your date last night? Did you have a good time? Good food? Get a good-night kiss and everything?"

"Diantha!"

"Well, did you?"

"I…well…yes," Augustine admits, blushing and staring down at his empty plate.

Diantha just barely restrains herself from crowing triumphantly. She'd probably just send Augustine running if she did that, poor dear. He already looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here, at this little café table, being interrogated by her about his 'hot date' last night. She'll let up soon—he probably wants to go see Lysandre, or possibly go back to his flat and daydream about his Pyroar man some more. Still, there's one more thing she wants to know… "So, was it good, then?"

"Diantha!"

"Well?" Ooh, look at how scandalized he looks. It must have been good, then.

"Gentlemen don't kiss and tell," he sniffs.

Diantha stares at him.

Augustine squirms in his seat.

Diantha stares at him some more.

"…Yes," he says reluctantly.

"That's wonderful, Augustine, I'm so happy for you two!" she gushes. "Be sure to take Lysandre out on some more dates, then you can tell me all about them. I'd love to stay and chat some more about your fabulous date, believe me, but I really must run, I'm afraid. Say hello to your lion man for me!"

"My lion man?" Augustine sputters, but by then Diantha is already waving cheerily as she heads out the door.

Arceus, finally, she thinks as she walks down the street, humming softly to herself. It had been downright painful to watch those two idiots dancing around each other for so long, especially when they'd thought they were being subtle about all their mooning over each other. Idly, she wonders what their next date will be like, and what kind of reaction she'll get out of Lysandre if she asks. Perhaps she can offer him some suggestions…