*blinks rapidly, just about stopping short of rubbing his eyes to look again, to confirm that it's you (that it's his Ecthelion) and some guy, some complete stranger* *takes a gulp of his water because his throat is suddenly dry and his starter arrives*
*distractedly thanks the waiter and looks down at the artfully arranged salad (or that's what they're calling the lonely lettuce leaf, surrounded by tomatoes)* *looks back up at you and feels something hot, slow-burning in the pit of his stomach (as an unwelcome memory of a recent tabloid report (Lord Ecthelion seen with mystery brunette) filters through his mind*
*stabs the lettuce leaf so forcefully that the fork skitters off the plate and he loses his grip* *sits back, exhaling with frustration as he runs his fingers through his hair while at least two of the wait-staff hurry towards his table to remedy his forkless situation*