Once they placed their dinner orders, Charlie was able to focus on Hestia more. "How long have you been sick?" he asked, genuinely concerned. The only problem with the cold virus is that even if one ended, another could manifest and start the entire cycle over again. Fortunately, he rarely got sick (not even a cold) during the winter.
Sighing a bit, he really did not want their conversation to head towards the meeting the night before. Charlie just wanted to have dinner with Hestia and nothing more than casual conversation—even if it only lasted a short while.
Popping another chip in his mouth, and they were still hot from the deep frier, Charlie nodded. "The meeting needed to happen, everything that needed to get discussed was talked about, and now we all know what we need to be doing as of now." Charlie did not realise how difficult the war had been the last eight years he was in Romania, and it hit him light a freight train—he felt like he was the only one that was shocked and surprised about certain things and was clinging to his family and best mates like he may not see them the next day.
"I had a chat with Marcus Flint this afternoon," he said, grinning. "He's a brilliant player for the Falcons. I think you and I should go to one of their games if we can. What do you say, Hes? Sit in the stands with me rather than cheer for me?" he laughed.