Hugo slumped in his seat, staring at the bill in front of him as if it had personally insulted him. The numbers blurred together, but one thing was painfully clear: His wallet had just suffered a fatal blow.
'$94.50?' His hands trembled slightly. 'For food? Food is supposed to sustain life, not ruin it!'
A dark fog of hopelessness clouded his mind. In this moment, Hugo wasn't just a man. No, he was the pathetic protagonist of a tragic financial play—"The Death of Ten Pounds and Dreams."
He condemned Sanchez in his head with the fury of a man who had just realised he'd been scammed by someone with an unlimited credit card.
'Ask her to eat,' he said. 'Girls love food,' he said. Of course he'd say that—he's swimming in money. He had no business listening to a man who thinks imported cheese is a snack.
He was feeling like a clown who'd been conned into throwing himself down a financial abyss.
Hugo's bitter grin twitched as he yanked his wallet out and slapped his last notes on the table with the elegance of someone handing over ransom money.
'Take it, you gluttonous gods of gourmet. May this sacrifice appease you.' His wallet whimpered as it slid shut, empty and cold as the void where his savings used to be.
'Goodbye, sweet paper soldiers. You fought well.'
The waiter smiled graciously. Hugo smiled back with the dead eyes of a man accepting his fate. 'Yes, keep the change. It's not like I'll need it in the afterlife.'
He stood up, turned to Lily, with a new spark of madness born from financial ruin.
Lily smiled sweetly at him, blissfully unaware of the emotional crisis unfolding in Hugo's heart.
'This date better end with... something!'
---
Outside the restaurant, the night air was unexpectedly pleasant. Stars glimmered above, the streets were quieter than usual, and the cool breeze brushed gently against them.
Lily smiled as she looked at the sky. "It's so pretty out tonight. Want to go for a walk?"
'Walk?' Hugo's inner voice hissed. 'My wallet just flatlined, and now we're... taking a post-mortem stroll?' But with no polite way to refuse, he nodded.
"Sure. Great. Why not."
In silence, they strolled through the calm streets. The quiet was nice, but Hugo's wallet echoed louder than bombs in his mind.
Then he noticed Lily shivering slightly.
She was only wearing a thin, cropped top, completely unprepared for the cool breeze.
With sudden inspiration, he stopped and pulled off his jacket with a flourish. "Here," he said. "Take my jacket."
Lily gave him a grateful smile. "Aww, thanks, Hugo—" She draped it over her shoulders... and instantly recoiled.
The smell hit them both at the same time. It was the unmistakable, pungent aroma of garlic sauce, soy glaze, and some unidentifiable sweet condiment.
"Oh, God," Lily mumbled, sniffing the air cautiously.
Hugo froze, staring at the mess. "How... did all of the sauces get on it?"
Lily giggled awkwardly. "Thanks... but I think I'll be fine without it."
He snatched the jacket back, his eyes narrowing. "No, you're right. It smells like I worked at a food truck for 20 years."
He swore he even saw a noodle peeking out of the inner pocket. He brushed it off with a smile that said, "I'm not okay, but it's fine."
The silence stretched between them as they continued walking. Hugo wracked his brain for something to say.
That's when Sanchez's voice echoed in his mind, like the devil whispering into his ear:
"In moments of comfortable silence, build deeper connections. Ask her something emotional."
Hugo took a deep breath, summoning the Aura of Zen. This was it—the time to dig deep and make her open up. He cleared his throat, channelling all the gravitas he could muster.
"Lily..." he began dramatically. She turned to look at him, intrigued.
"On the court, what keeps you going when you feel like giving up?"
Lily stopped mid-step, her expression softening as she looked at him. The question had clearly caught her off guard.
She looked up at the sky for a moment before answering. "Sometimes, it's my teammates. They depend on me, and I can't let them down. But other times... it's me. I know what it feels like to quit on yourself, and it's the worst feeling ever. So even when everything sucks, I just tell myself: 'One more point. Just get through one more point.' And somehow, that's enough."
Hugo blinked, slightly taken aback by the genuine emotion in her voice.
"Wow. That's... heavy."
For a second, the air between them shifted. It felt deeper, more intimate, like they'd peeled back a layer of each other's souls.
As Lily looked at him, her eyes full of raw emotion, Hugo knew what he had to do next. Sanchez's final piece of wisdom echoed loud and clear:
"When she's emotional, make eye contact to build the sexual tension. Hold it. No matter what—don't look away."
Hugo squared his shoulders, activated his Aura of Alpha, and locked eyes with Lily, his gaze steady and unwavering.
The air between them shifted. The streetlights blurred, the night grew quieter, and the only thing Hugo could hear was the pounding of his own heart.
Lily's gaze lingered on his, her eyes flicking down to his lips—then back up. Slowly, without even realising it, they both leaned in.
Hugo's mind spiralled into a chaotic storm. 'Is this it? Is this ACTUALLY HAPPENING?! Am I about to have my first kiss?!'
His breath hitched. 'What do I do with my hands? Do I tilt my head? Which way do I tilt—left or right?!'
They were inches away now. Hugo could feel her warmth. His palms were sweaty, knees weak—
'Wait. Is that... garlic sauce I smell?'
Panic surged through his brain. 'Oh no, what if she smells it too?!' He tried to subtly breathe through his nose to confirm.
Big mistake—the garlic hit him full force. 'Oh God, I reek!'
They leaned closer, the tension thicker than soy glaze. Hugo's brain was screaming:
'This is it! I'm gonna kiss her—NO, WAIT, DO I CLOSE MY EYES?! WHAT IF I MESS UP?!'
Their lips were a hair's breadth away...
And then— Hugo sneezed.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!