'An angel dinning at the Ritz', like in the song; he chuckled to himself.
CHAPTER 6 The Ritz
Everything had been calculated to the smallest detail. Her hair was styled to seem feathery and soft, her makeup in gold rose tones, lips just tinted a bit darker than her usual nude pink, and a shadow of blush in her cheeks and nose. Anna was wearing gold clip on earrings, and a gold chain necklace, dainty and discreet.
She had chosen a white bodycon dress that draped over her chest and crisscrossed at her waist giving the illusion she had an hourglass figure. Despite she wasn't used to high heels, she had found one pair with a chunky heel that let her have some balance.
In her small white purse she took just a small cardholder, her phone, lipstick and a small bottle of perfume. It had been purchased some time ago, online and brought oversees. It was expensive for the little quantity the small recipient had, the smell wasn't unpleasant, and it was supposed to contain pheromones. She had tried it once, and had received a lot more male attention that day than ever.
In her mind the plan was clear, Professor Crowley, Anthony as he wasn't her professor anymore, was going to pick her up, they were meeting Jack there, she would propose dancing, if the Professor accepted she would use the perfume at the club and dance with him. If there was no dancing, she would excuse herself to the bathroom and use the perfume, after the dinner, Professor Crowley would bring her back home. Either way, she would make her move and invite him for some drinks, alone as her flatmates were advised to be out that night.
Anna had insisted for Jack to stay at home, that he made an excuse so she could be alone with Professor Crowley. But Jack told her he wasn't losing his only chance to dinner at the Ritz for her infatuation. Jack thought she had no chance, he had for a long time told her so. He also said he would be nearby to pick her up when Professor Crowley shoved her of his car, or left her stranded on the dance floor.
Her phone buzzed, an incoming text from Anthony Crowley- 'Here.'
Anna rushed down the stairs and approached the vintage Bentley, Professor Crowley was leaning against the car, looking like a movie star, in leather black skin-tight pants and a tailored black designer jacket. He gave her a once-over, a sly grin playing on his lips.
"Well, look at you, all dolled up," he remarked, his voice laced with his characteristic devilish charm.
She blushed at his comment, a warm flush spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you," she replied, her voice a bit shy but genuinely appreciative of his compliment.
With a playful twinkle in his eye, Professor Crowley opened the passenger door for her, revealing the luxurious interior of the Bentley. The plush leather seats were a rich black leather, and the dashboard gleamed with polished wood accents. Freddy Mercury's 'Barcelona' was played from the car's sound system.
She awkwardly settled into the passenger seat, not used to wearing high heels or dresses she felt utterly ridiculous. As she settled into the comfortable seat, she couldn't help but admire the elegance of the car's interior. "This car is amazing," she said, running her fingers over the smooth leather upholstery.
Professor Crowley slid into the driver's seat, his sunglasses perched on his nose. He revved the engine, the Bentley's purr filling the air. "Glad you like it," he replied with a smirk. "It's a classic, just like me."
Anna couldn't help but notice the fuel gauge pointer was under the low level of the scale, the pointer resting at the bottom of the fuel gauge. She wandered if Anthony knew. She got distracted by a bullet holes vinyl in the window.
"Big fan of classic rock?" she asked, eyes lit up with fake enthusiasm, it wasn't lost to anyone that Professor Crowley loved Queen's music. "Queen, are like musical legends to me. Have you ever seen them in concert?"
Crowley's eyes twinkled with nostalgia. "Ah, Freddy Mercury," he mused. "Now there's a band that knew how to put on a show. Quite the spectacle, I must say."
Their conversation drifted into reminiscing about iconic Queen performances, sharing favourite songs, and even a humorous anecdote about a legendary backstage party that Crowley may or may not have attended. As they chatted about music and shared laughter over witty remarks, the Bentley carried them through the city's winding streets. Anna could feel their connection deepened, not just through shared interests but also through the sheer joy of each other's company.
The aroma of sumptuous cuisine danced through the air, mingling with the clinking of fine crystal and the murmurs of laughter and chitchat from other diners. Soft classical music played in the background, providing a harmonious backdrop to the evening.
Azira couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness as they were escorted to their table. Mr. Brown's behaviour seemed unusually eager and sweet, casting a subtle veil of anticipation over the evening. Azira had sensed this moment approaching, Mr. Brown seeking an opportunity to shift their relationship from friendship to something more.
Azira had pondered it during their ride to the restaurant, during the tedious, slow and jerky ride to the restaurant. He wasn't ready t, and the mere thought of kissing or holding Barrie Brown had sent a wave of nausea through him. The bebop on the radio hadn't helped either. The elegant setting of the Ritz seemed now to mock him, as if he shouldn't be there at all, not accompanied by Barrie.
Mr. Brown's fond smile as he gazed at Azira only deepened his uncertainty. Azira sighed inwardly, resigning himself to navigating this delicate situation with grace and consideration. He wished to gently discourage Barrie's advances while preserving the man's feelings and maintaining the cherished spirit of their friendship. He genuinely appreciated Barrie and wanted to shield their connection from any potential harm.
As he perused the menu card, Azira allowed himself to be swept away by the promises of gastronomic delights, a small smile playing on his lips at the prospect of embarking on a culinary journey unlike any other. The intricate descriptions of dishes and the culinary artistry behind them offered a welcome distraction from the uneasiness he felt.
Amidst the symphony of fine dining, a sudden burst of laughter pierced through the ambient soundscape, drawing Azira's attention like a bait would a fish, the sound stirring something warm deep within him. He looked up from the menu to see a tall, imposing man with fiery red hair striding behind Mr. Brown. His uneasiness at the complex situation he was facing was quickly overshadowed by the unexpected distraction. The tall man wore sunglasses, his gaze fixed on his companions, a pair of young attractive individuals who seat at a nearby table, one on each side of the tall man.
And Azira was staring. Not that the man noticed, focused on his companions, the blonde girl was clearly fanning over him.
Mr. Brown glanced up from the menu, his warm smile directed at Azira, unaware that Azira wasn't looking at him at all at that moment. "I must say, your company brightens even the dullest of days, Mr. Fell. It's a privilege to know you."
Azira returned the smile, though his eyes held a hint of distant politeness. "I think it's wonderful that we can spend time together, as friends."
The two men fell into an uncomfortable silence, their gazes returning to the menu as they grappled with the unspoken tension in the air.
When the tartlet of duck liver cherry and almonds arrived, and Azira delighted in every flavour and texture, it was a delight to be able to taste the dish accompanied by a sparking Nyetimber classic Cuvée. Barrie was babbling again about his late father and what would he think of serving tomato with basil and fennel as a delicacy in the Ritz, when they had a tomato plant in their balcony for years. Their conversation paved the way for a certain level of ease to return to their table, the atmosphere lightened, and Azira felt a renewed sense of gratitude for the genuine connection he shared with Barrie.
But to Azira's dismay, when he was half way through his Cornish halibut with cucumber, mussel and dill, Barrie tried it again, this time he reached over the table to take his hand.
"I've always admired your sense of style, Azira. You have an elegance and grace have truly captivated me." He was looking at him with longing, his eyes soft and a barely there smile playing on his lips.
With a sight Azira felt he had no choice but to address the proverbial elephant in the room. With a gentle, tentative tone, he began, "Barrie, I've greatly valued our friendship over these years."
Mr. Brown glanced at him, his eyes brimming with hope. "Azira, you're a dear friend to me as well. More than a friend, actually."
Azira's heart sank, knowing that this was the moment he needed to clarify his own feelings. He placed his fork down, his gaze earnestly meeting Mr. Brown's. "Barrie, I've come to realize that my feelings toward you, while genuine and deep, are those of friendship."
The words hung in the air, heavy and laden with meaning. Mr. Brown's expression faltered for a moment, a mix of disappointment and vulnerability washing over his face. He took a deep breath, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. "Azira, I care for you deeply, and I can't help but hope for something more." Barrie's voice was tinted with disappointment. "I had hoped that with time," Barrie began, his voice quivering slightly, "that you might see things differently. I've put so much effort into this, into us..." His words trailed off, and he looked down at his plate.
Azira sighed, empathizing with the pain he saw in Barrie's eyes. "Barrie, I know this is difficult, and I don't want to hurt you. But it wouldn't be fair to you or to me if I pretended to feel something more than friendship that I simply don't."
Barrie nodded, his gaze fixed on his half-eaten meal. "I understand, Azira. I appreciate your honesty, even though it hurts."
Their dinner continued in somber tones, the air heavy with unspoken feelings. The easy camaraderie they had shared earlier in the evening, was now tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that their relationship would never be the same. They eat in silence, and Azira could see in Barrie his shifting emotions, as his responses were increasingly shorter and sharper and his sips of the bubbly wine increasingly longer.
As they finished their desserts and paid the bill, Azira insisted on paying his part. He couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness and guilt. He valued Barrie's friendship immensely and didn't want to be the cause of his pain. Azira and Barrie left the Ritz, the elegant setting and the fine meal were now distant memories, replaced by the tension that hung heavily between them.
Outside the Ritz, they stood on the dimly lit street, the air was thick with unspoken frustration and disappointment. The cool night air did little to alleviate the growing unease between them. The valet rushed to fetch Mr. Brown's car, and they were left alone.
Barrie was seething with irritation and anger, "I can't understand why you are so resistant…" his tone was frustrated, "…We've shared so many wonderful moments together."
Azira couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt gnawing at him. "I'm sorry."
Barrie's face bore the marks of disappointment and frustration, "Sorry? You haven't even tried Azira."
As the valet's footsteps approached, Barrie's irritation seemed to reach its breaking point. He moved closer, without warning, in a sudden, forceful gesture, he grabbed Azira by the shoulders and forcefully pressed his lips against Azira's. The kiss was not an expression of affection but rather an act of frustration and anger.
It hurt, teeth scraping against his lips, the weight of the other man almost knocking him to the ground. Azira was taken aback by the suddenness and forcefulness of the kiss. Tasting his own blood as his skin broke, he pushed Barrie away, a surge of discomfort and repulsion coursing through him. He managed to break free from the unwanted embrace, stumbling backward against the wall of the Ritz.
Barrie, his face contorted with a mix of anger and desperation, didn't relent. He pounced on him again and pinned Azira against the wall, his grip firm and unyielding, and he pressed his mouth against him. Azira's head hit the wall, his heart raced, his mind a whirlwind of panic and disgust. He couldn't believe what was happening, and the sensation of Barrie's lips on his own filled him with revulsion. He struggled against Barrie's hold.
Just when it felt like there was no escape from this unwanted kiss, a commanding voice sliced through the tension-filled air. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"
Crowley sat at his table in the dimly lit corner of the Ritz, his attention divided between the sumptuous cuisine on his plate and the lively chatter of the restaurant's patrons. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with the clinking of fine crystal, laughter, and the soothing strains of classical music wafting through the air. It was a world he knew well, a world he relished. It was also a world he didn't want to experience alone, as it reminded him of the void he felt, the vacant space that lingered at his right.
Tonight, beside him sat Mrs. Williams and Mr. Wilson, they were celebrating their thesis and discoveries. They engaged in casual conversation, discussing the successes and challenges of their studies, and Crowley felt a sense of contentment wash over him. He had taken on the role of a mentor to the young pair, a responsibility he didn't take lightly.
Amidst the joviality and camaraderie, Crowley couldn't help but glance around the restaurant, his sharp eyes taking in the various patrons. His gaze landed on a particular table where a man eat as if it were the first time he had enjoyed any food, his eyes shone with delight, the light behind him making his blonde hair shine like a halo, it was not unreasonable to say that the beautiful features of the man were angelic. 'An angel dinning at the Ritz', like in the song he chuckled to himself.
As Crowley contemplated the blonde stranger, Mr. Wilson, his student, interrupted his thoughts with a snarky remark about Anna wanting to go dancing again. Crowley raised an eyebrow at the comment but decided not to engage as the girl glared at her companion across the table.
The arrival of their dishes brought a temporary reprieve from the topic, and Crowley found himself engrossed in the culinary delights before him. The veal sweetbread with parmesan and truffle was a particular standout, the Nyetimber 1086 was the real experience.
But as the evening progressed and the conversation flowed, Crowley couldn't help but notice a shift in the atmosphere at the neigh boring table. Crowley's keen eyes landed on the blonde man, observing his every reaction as if entranced. The balding man sitting in front of the angel, who had appeared composed and distant, now seemed agitated and frustrated. It was evident that something was amiss.
Crowley leaned back and took a leisurely sip from his wine, letting the rich flavors linger on his palate. After all, he had his own matters to attend to, the connection between Anna and Jack intrigued him.
Anna's frustration was palpable as she confronted Jack about his decision to move. "You are moving? I thought we were going to work together here!" Her words carried a sense of disappointment.
Jack, on the other hand, maintained his composure, his gaze fixed on his empty plate. "I declined the offer," he replied quietly, his lips pursed.
Crowley couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of them parting ways. They seemed so well-suited for each other, and their partnership had shown great promise. "So where are you moving?" Crowley inquired, genuinely curious.
Jack glanced at Crowley, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he revealed, "Astronomical Observatory of Padova, Italy."
Anna's annoyance was evident as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I can't believe it," she muttered, clearly frustrated by the turn of events.
Crowley contemplated the situation for a moment. He couldn't bear to see the two of them part on such terms. "Jack," he suggested, a fatherly tone creeping into his voice, "why don't you take Anna dancing tonight?"
Anna's posture shifted, her tension easing slightly at the suggestion. After a few moments of contemplation, she settled back into her chair. "Could the three of us go? It would be a nice farewell, wouldn't it, Jack?"
With the bill having arrived, Crowley paid it without paying much attention to the amount. He nodded in agreement, a warm smile gracing his features. "Of course," he replied, feeling a sense of satisfaction in bringing them together for a memorable farewell evening.
The prospect of a night out dancing seemed to lift the spirits of all three of them, and as they made their way out of the restaurant, chatting among themselves there was a palpable sense of camaraderie and anticipation in the air.
Crowley couldn't have anticipated the unexpected turn of events about to unfold. The three of them stopped in their tracks as they took in scene unfolding in front of them. The two man from inside the restaurant, the angel and the balding one were arguing.
"Sorry? You haven't even tried Azira." In a startling turn of events, the man graved the other and forcefully kissed the angel, who appeared shocked and terrorized.
The sudden intensity of the situation drew Crowley's full attention. He leaned forward slightly, trying to gauge the dynamics at play. It was clear that the kiss was unwelcome, and the man being kissed struggled to break free, stumbling backward against the wall.
Crowley couldn't stand idly by as he witnessed what appeared to be an assault. His protective instincts kicked into high gear, and he knew he had to intervene. As he strolled towards them the bald one trapped the angel against the wall, kissing him again.
With a commanding voice laced with a touch of danger, he spoke up. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" He yanked the balding man away from the angel, stepping between them with a swift move. "What's going on here?"
The balding man's face paled as he looked at him with recognition. The question hung in the air, the tension palpable. His expression shifted to mix of irritation and defiance. "This is none of your business."
Crowley, however, wasn't one to back down easily. He met the man's gaze squarely, his sunglasses hiding his thoughts. "I beg to differ. It became my business when I saw you assaulting someone against their will."
The standoff was short lived, as the valet approached with the car, the balding man's, took the keys form the valet. "I should have known." With a final, lingering look at the man behind Crowley, he abruptly turned and fled the scene without another word.
Crowley's gaze shifted to the angel, who appeared shaken and disoriented. He had blood on his lips, the bottom one swollen. He approached the distressed man, offering him a handkerchief. "Are you all right?"
The man was holding the back of his head, still recovering from the shock of the encounter, could only manage a nod of gratitude. He wiped his mouth with the handkerchief, his eyes wide open, emotions a turbulent mix of relief and confusion. "Thank you for... for stepping in."
"The black 2016 Ford Fiesta?" The valet's impatient tone reverberated in the bustling street outside the Ritz, creating a discordant note amid the elegant surroundings. Crowley glanced at his students. Jack had a protective arm around Anna's shoulders, both of them were looking at him with equal astonished expressions.
"Jack, take Anna dancing tonight. I...I'll stay to make sure he's okay." His concern was genuine, he had seen the scene, and knew how awful a hit in the head like the blonde man had received could be.
Anna's eyes widened, reflecting the streetlights' soft shimmer. "You should come with us," she pleaded, her voice carrying the faintest hint of desperation. "We don't know him."
Crowley's gaze shifted back to the scene of the recent altercation. The blonde man was now seated on the curb, still recovering from the shock. A trickle of blood from his injured lip glistened in the faint streetlight. "I must stay," Crowley replied, the sensation of responsibility lingering like an itch he couldn't ignore. The idea of leaving the man stranded there, bleeding and clearly dizzy, was unsettling.
"I will take care of her," Jack said, his voice calm and reassuring as he accepted the car keys from the valet, guiding Anna towards their car. The night air wrapped around them like a comforting embrace.
"Be careful." He said before going back to help the injured man, the scent of his delicate cologne mingling with the residual aroma of the earlier dinner.
The city's soundscape enveloped them, with car engines humming, distant sirens wailing, and the chatter of pedestrians adding to the urban symphony. The streetlights bathed the scene in a warm, amber glow, casting elongated shadows on the pavement.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Crowley asked, concern staining his words, his voice cutting through the night's cacophony.
Azira shook his head, trying to steady his nerves. "No," he said, the tension in his voice gradually giving way to a more composed tone. "I think I'll be alright. Thank you for your assistance."
The man hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his gaze as he glanced at Crowley's sunglasses, which concealed his emotions like a shroud. After a contemplative moment, he replied, "I... I appreciate your help. I think I'll be all right from here."
Crowley was shocked, the man's cerulean eyes mirroring the vibrant blue of a summer sky, those eyes were the same exact blue than the ones in his dreams, yet those eyes lacked the same warmth and affection he had often seen in his dreams.
The blonde man's eyes appeared dazed, like a foggy night gradually giving way to the morning sun. "Easy here," Crowley offered, extending a helping hand as the man stumbled. "Mr. I'll be all right, I think you need a ride home."
The blonde man, managed a weak but appreciative smile. "I'll manage."
As the Bentley arrived, Crowley extended an invitation. "How about I give you a ride home?"
For a few seconds the blue eyes of the angel scanned him, his gaze hesitating for a moment before finally nodding, accepting Crowley's offer. Anthony help the man get into the car, and made his way to the driver seat. Turning on the car, which roared, under them, Crowley decided the best course of action was turning off the music.
"Anthony." He said as he drove the Bentley effortlessly, leaving behind the Ritz.
He could feel the blonde man's eyes on him. "Azira." He said, his voice sweet and calmer than before. "Beautiful car." Azira added, his words punctuated by a gentle hum of the car's engine.
Crowley smirked, and was about to make a snarky remark about his beloved Bentley when the music turned on of its own volition.
'I was born to love you
With every single beat of my heart
I was born to take care of you
Every single day of my life'
With a hiss, Crowley stopped the music, silencing Freddy Mercury's voice. "I'm sorry," he said, addressing the unexpected interruption. "Sometimes I think this old car has its own personality."
"You do not have to apologize," Azira said softly, his voice carrying an undertone of gratitude. "Not after rescuing me." The words hung in the air like the lingering notes of a melody, filling the car with a sense of connection.
Crowley stole a sidelong glance at the man sitting beside him, the eyes may have been the same, but the expressions held within them were worlds apart. Crowley focused on the road, navigating the bustling city with ease. Crowley decided to break the silence, attempting to offer some semblance of normalcy to their interaction. "So, Azira, did you enjoy the meal? Besides, well, the unexpected drama."
Azira let out a soft chuckle, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. "Truth be told. I was enjoying it until things got a bit complicated."
Crowley raised an eyebrow; the scene he had witnessed was not complicated; it was brutal. "Complicated?"
Azira hesitated, his gaze fixed on the passing cityscape. "He... well, he wanted something more than friendship, and I couldn't give it to him. It became... well you saw it."
Their journey continued in silence, the streets of the city unfolding before them, it didn't take long for them to arrive. As Crowley pulled up to the bookshop, stopping his beloved Bentley under the warm glow of a street light.
He gazed at the building, curiosity piqued. He couldn't recall Azira giving him an address and yet he had brought them to the right place. He looked at the man, who was already looking towards Crowley, his cerulean eyes observing him with curiosity. The two of them sat in the car for a moment, the weight of their shared experience lingering in the air.
Azira finally broke the silence, his voice a soft murmur in the night air. "Thank you, Anthony," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "You've been incredibly kind to me tonight."
Crowley offered a small smile. "There is nothing to be thankful for. Anyone would have done the same." He paused for a moment, he wanted to say "Listen, if you ever find yourself in need of assistance or... well, company, don't hesitate to reach out." But instead he mustered. "Be careful with that man in the future."
Azira nodded, his expression softening. "I'll keep that in mind, Anthony."
With that, Azira opened the car door and stepped out onto the cobblestone pavement. He had felt the faint scent of his cologne behind, and it felt familiar. Crowley watched as he walked toward the entrance of the bookshop, his graceful figure illuminated by the warm light. It was a sight that stirred an inexplicable sense of nostalgia within Crowley, a longing for something he couldn't quite place.
As Azira reached the door, he turned back to Crowley and offered a parting smile. "Goodnight, Anthony."
Crowley returned the sentiment with a nod, his sunglasses concealing the myriad of thoughts swirling within. "Goodnight, Azira. Take care."
With that, Azira entered the bookshop, the soft chime of a bell signalling his departure. Crowley remained in his Bentley for a moment, the night air whispering secrets through the open window. The enigmatic encounter with Azira had left him with more questions than answers, and he couldn't help but feel that their paths would cross again, whether by fate or by design.
Questions? Thoughts? Suggestions?