It wasn't that Stefan hated the rich. Not really. In fact he downright loved them, when they were his mark. Trying to befriend and mingle with them on an equal or lesser basis never went well though. They were on a completely different plane of existence. He couldn't relate to them. They couldn't relate to him. He stopped trying. It would shock him to know that Rosalie might be completely out of his league. She was charming and witty, exuded class with ease, and he met her when she was the dictionary definition of a princess. But the idea that she was practically New York royalty seemed so far off to be unreal to him.
He had firmly expected her to give him a laugh or a grin, so his smile faltered when he saw her turn more serious. He was about ask her more when the waiter showed up, setting their plates down in front of them. He waited in practically agonizing silence until the man left them alone and he quietly asked, "Did I--I think I missed something." He was under the impression there was an underlying joke. Why wouldn't there be? He was a frog and she was a princess, but not really. The same should have gone for witches, right? "Should we just drop the subject?" He paused only for a split second before he asked a more important question. "Are you okay?"