claire dearing is an olympic sprinter (heels) wrote in witchinghour,
"They do..." Claire hummed, and that was when Super Helpful Zombie Waiter or whatever this person was (kind of creepy, if she was being honest with herself) decided to drop by with their food. She thanked him, of course, ever the polite kidnapee - but he didn't really seem zesty, more like mumbling here and there and going on his drone-like way. Well then. Dreary, but she supposed by now she shouldn't expect anything less in the city.
Unrolling her napkin, she placed it daintily on her nap and studied the pasta - it looked good. Smelled good. Plus, there was cheese bread. She had the sudden urge to cram all of it into her mouth - how long had it been since she'd had a decent meal?
"That sounds very romantic, actually." Back to talk of carriage rides. That was a pleasant image. "Have you never seen snow at all?"