Third-Wheeled Dinner

The table was already set, the meat beautifully plated and surrounded by flickering candles that emitted a faint scent of wax.

Ein stood by the window, watching him with an amused smile. "So that's how you pronounce it," he said, turning off the kitchen light to enhance the cozy atmosphere. 

Adriel's eyes found the glistening bottle sitting on the counter, then the neatly sliced steak on the plate, in red wine sauce. It was carefully decorated, as if to please Adriel's artistic eye.

"You actually made it?" he repeated, this time softer. "But you don't even drink." Remembering the grape juice, he lifted the box to show Ein. "I got us this on the way back."

Ein glanced at it and smirked. "Steak and grape juice. Fancy."