<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/theo2_zps942a360c.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong><strong>Theodore 'Theo' Munn</strong><br/><strong>Species/Element:</strong>Werebear<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Black button-up long-sleeved collared shirt, black pants and belt. Black shoes/socks. Dk Gray/White pen-striped jacket. (Same as picture)<br/><strong>Time:</strong>7:05 pmish, August 1st<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Goût de Lyon Restaurant<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Mellisa<br/><hr/><br/><br/>Theo just sat back - and had this big, big grin on his face as he listened to the French folk ramble quickly. He loved the sound of their language, but especially when Melissa spoke it. Again, as he watched her soft lips move as she spoke, he couldn't help but imagine... and that tingle raced down his spine again.<br/><br/>He had already felt the trip was worth it. And it just kept getting better.<br/><br/>Theo had no earthly idea what they were saying, and that was perfectly fine with him. The way they both smiled and seemed surprised was priceless. The little bio on the restaurant's website indicated that the owner - the fella before them - was actually from France. No transplant, no American who took a couple years of French in high school - this guy was the real deal. He looked like he could be Melissa's father, and they spoke as if they were old friends. When Melissa finished speaking, the man nodded several times and replied.<br/><br/>"Ah, Angel Creek, j'ai entendu de cet endroit, bien que je n'aie jamais visité! Bien, soyez bienvenus à de Great Falls et j'espère que nous vous impressionnons assez pour vous voir de nouveau!" He paused for a moment and then continued. "Choix excellents, ma dame. Je ferai révéler du thé tout de suite et il se repose peu de temps après. Les pommes de terre sont surtout très bonnes en ce moment!"<br/><br/>A moment later, Melissa closed her menu and handed it to the owner, who then turned his eyes and his smile to Theo.<br/><br/>"And for you, monsieur?"<br/><br/>Theo chuckled as he leaned forward, taking his menu and offering to him. "I'll have to order mine in plain, boring English," he said. "But I'd like the chicken fricassee with tarragon, garden salad with french dressing, and of course some french bread, s'il vous plaît," he said, -almost- pronouncing it correctly. The owner, of course, smiled in appreciation for the attempt.<br/><br/>"I will have these brought out to you quickly," the owner said, thick accent unmistakable as he took Theo's menu, and turned to quickly shuffle away.<br/><br/>Theo turned his head when Melissa thanked him, and he chuckled again, his eyes widening for just a moment, "Well, we'll see. If the food is as good as all indications point to, then yeah, it -should- be fabulous," he said, but he wasn't stressing about that part... at least not much. The food was out of his hands. Getting her here was on him, but now, the fate of her enjoyment rested in the hands of the restaurant's cook.<br/><br/>He looked down to see her hand on his - such slender fingers, but strong - they would need to be, to give a proper massage of course. His hand that she touched slowly opened, wider palm, bigger fingers, all moving slowly to turn palm-up and let her hand rest in his. Another chill raced down his spine.<br/><br/>"What do you want?" Theo suddenly asked, then his eyes raced up to meet hers, a little surprised by the question himself. "I mean, in life... what are your goals? Aspirations?" he added quickly.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>