One corner of her mouth twitched into a half-smile. “No, it wouldn’t be. You’d have to provide the plates and cutlery, though. I didn’t bring the plastic stuff because I didn’t have any on me.”
Walking a short distance across the room, she picked up a bag she had set down.
“Sometimes I think I should pick some up, but every time I see them at the store they sell them in packs of fifty or a hundred. I only need like ten. It’s a waste of space.” Returning, she held up the bag. “Cake’s in here. It’s red velvet.”
Does she take him like an idiot or something? Of course, he wouldn’t want to dirty any of his refined plates, but he wouldn’t want to fetch the disgusting plates in the kitchen (the ones his brothers use) either. He has to make-up his mind soon or the cake may grow old by the time he decides.
Also, there’s a small paranoia of her breaking his plates as well.
Shouldn’t she just brought her own plates? Good grief, how irresponsible.
“Red velvet, I see…” Not one of his favorites, but it should suffice. He turns his heels and swiftly moves at the cabinet located at the corner of the living room. There he carefully stacked at least 2 small (yet beautifully engraved) plates on one hand and heads over to the small coffee table to place the plates on.
“Allow me to cut the cake, if you would please hand me the bag.”
