Kieran's PoV

I didn't respond for quite a time. Simon just watched me, waiting silently. "It was a long time ago," I finally said, willing the waiter to make a miraculous appearance like he had last time.

"That doesn't tell me what happened," He responded, not grasping the obvious social cue. Oh, I wanted to smack myself.

"Speaking of, how's work? Is your coworker still being a dick?" I asked. I honestly didn't care. I just wanted to get to a new topic that I didn't mind talking about. He didn't.

"What does that have to do with your scar?" I almost cried. Nothing! THAT'S THE POINT!!! I sighed, fighting the urge to slump back in my chair. Finally answering my telepathic summons, the waiter reappeared with our coffees.

"Here you are, sirs. Unfortunately, I'm afraid you're desserts are going to take a little longer. A bit of a back up in the kitchen." He handed me my coffee first and as the glorious chill from the plastic (Think Starbucks) encompassed my hands, I found the power within me to smile companionably at him.

"We don't mind," I commented breezily, taking my first sip. Simon got his handed to him as well and the waiter also gave him what may have been a sharp warning glance. I pretended not to notice. Another sip and I let out a relaxed sigh. Pleased that he had broken the growing tension, the waiter left.

"Anyway, your coworker?" I asked again.

"Oh, they're.. fine, I guess." Simon muttered, lost in thought and paying me little attention. I gladly took the time to enjoy more of my coffee. When he finally cleared his throat to get my attention, focused on me once more, he wouldn't stop staring at my scar. He was getting on my nerves now.

I took a large sip of my coffee to calm myself back down and used the same voice I had with Nikolai, leaning forward to brace on my forearms to the point where it looked like I was preparing to stand. I knew that the position oozed authority and I used that to my advantage. "Simon. Stop. Looking. At it." He blinked, startled by my change in demeanor. "Please." I added as an afterthought.

"But you n-" He was cut off once more by the waiter.

"Here you are, sirs!" He set down my plate first, right between my forearms. The cake was warm and smelled so nice that I had to look up at him and smile. He set down Simon's brownie that was topped with whipped cream and caramel. The caramel seemed to be laid in a pattern but from my angle, I couldn't tell what. "Would you look at that? You're all out of coffee. Let me get you another! On the house." He took my cup and threw it away. I grabbed an available plastic fork and just started to take a bite when Simon piped up.

"I think they're trying to tell me something." I looked at him confused and he turned his plate so I could see. I was right. The caramel spelled out words. More specifically, the words "Fucking. Stop."