"I rest my case,
you are always this late.
And you know how much I hate
waiting around, round, round."

"WE'RE UNDER-DRESSED," I stated, gulping nervously as I took in the sight of the busy restaurant in front of me. The patrons seated at their tables were dressed in fancy evening gowns and tuxedos while the both of us were wearing our Meilleurean attire. Granted, Robin had his uniform tailored to fit and he was sporting expensive-looking Italian dress shoes. He made the uniform look like red-carpet attire, while here I was in a poorly-fitted blouse and scruffy sneakers.

"It's fine. You're with me," Robin said, before surprising me by placing his hand on the small of my back and giving me a small push. "Come on, we don't have all day."

We walked up to the entrance, where there was already a long queue of well-dressed people waiting to enter. Robin simply ignored the line and sauntered straight to the counter.

"Are you lost?" the man behind the counter asked, his thick accent throwing me off-guard.

"I have a reservation for two here," Robin said without hesitance, staring down at the man as if daring him to disobey.

"A reservation here? Sir, this is one of the most respectable establishments in the country. It's nearly impossible to get a reservation here," the man replied snootily. Robin narrowed his eyes and retrieve his phone from his pocket, dialling a number on it. Immediately, he began to speak to the person on the receiver in fluent Japanese.

In less than five minutes, a portly man dressed in a similar suit as the man behind the counter rushed out of the entrance, bowing deeply when he stopped in front of Robin. The tag on his breast pocket told me that he was the manager of the restaurant.

"Good evening, Mister Clair! I apologise for keeping you in wait! We have your table cleared and ready for you. Please, if you would allow me to escort you to your seats," the man said without hesitation, to my surprise.

Robin nodded stiffly, then again, pushed me forward. The man at the counter turned as white as a sheet the minute he realized who Robin Clair was, and frankly looked like he was ready to faint right then and there. He apologised profusely, bowing his head in embarrassment, but Robin paid him no mind as he entered the restaurant.

We followed the manager past the crowded restaurant, navigating our way through the many tables sprawled out across the floor to a quieter, more private part of the restaurant where there were hardly any other tables.

"I didn't know you could speak Japanese," I said in surprise as I shuffled through the restaurant. Robin barely paid me a glance before replying in his usual monotonous voice.

"Yuko is Japanese. I picked it up from him," Robin muttered as we took a seat at our table. A waiter appeared by our side in no time, handing the both of us menus.

I stared at the mix of Japanese words on the menu, wishing again that I had paid more attention in language classes back at the Academy. I glanced up at Robin, who looked like he already knew what he wanted to order and was just waiting for me.

"I can't read the menu," I said awkwardly, biting my lip. Robin raised an eyebrow, before shaking his head with a sigh.

"What's your favourite Japanese dish?" he asked, signalling a waiter over.

"Unagi don," I replied instantly.

"The eel?" he asked, tilting his head. I nodded.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked when he arrived at the table, clicking his pen on his pad.

"I'll have the fugu donburi," Robin said before glancing at me. "She'll have an unagi don."

"Sir, we don't serve unagi—," the waiter began, but stopped himself mid-sentence when Robin gave him a glare. "I'll have the Chef prepare it for you immediately."

"Would you like any refreshments?" he asked, after scribbling on his pad.

"I'll have water," Robin replied.

"Me too," I said, and with a nod and a bow, the waiter scurried off.

"Thank you for dinner," I said quietly when it was just the two of us again, crossing my hands on my lap.

"Whatever. It's not like I had a choice," he grumbled before looking up and locking eyes with me, making me gulp. "Consider this a debt repaid."

Pursing my lips, I let out a small sigh at his cold reply and sank in my seat. This was going to be a long night...

We sat in an uncomfortable silence while we waited for our dinner, before my phone buzzed in my pocket. My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion when I realised it was a text from an unknown number. Curiosity getting the best of me, I opened the text.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath.

Unknown: Hey, Alex. It's Jake, I got your number from the office. Where are you?

"What?" Robin asked, frowning slightly as he took a sip of water.

"I completely forgot I was supposed to meet Jake at The Bean!" I cried, face palming myself. I saved Jake's number into my phone and quickly typed a reply and almost instantaneously, Jake replied.

I'm so sorry! I completely forgot!

Jake: So...we'll just call off today's date, I guess. We'll schedule another one, right?

Of course! I'm so sorry...

Jake: It's fine.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I hope I didn't mess up my chances with Jake. After all, he did ask to re-schedule, right?

"Is he your boyfriend or something?" Robin asked, frowning slightly and tilting his head to one side as he waited for my answer.

"No, he's not," I replied awkwardly, scratching the back of my hand.

"At least he has standards," Robin muttered quietly under his breath. I gasped slightly, feeling the anger rise inside of me.

"Excuse me?" I huffed, in which he rolled his eyes and gave me a pointed look.

"Well, it's obvious you're not much—"

"Your food," the waiter announced, oblivious to the fact that he might've just stopped all hell from breaking loose in the middle of a ridiculously posh restaurant. He turned several shades of red when the both of us snapped our heads towards him, scowls on our faces.

"Enjoy your meal," he squeaked, quickly placing the food on the table and scurrying off.

"I think that'll be quite impossible when I'm with him," I muttered under my breath, before digging into my bowl of steaming rice and eel. The moment the food touched my tongue I knew what I said was completely untrue, and tried my best to look indifferent about the delicious food. Robin rolled his eyes before picking up a pair of chopsticks I didn't bother to try to use and eating his own dinner in silence.

  ❁❁❁

"SO HERE I am," I murmured, leaning my forehead against the heavy oak door. With one hand, I rubbed my bulging stomach and let out a satisfied sigh. That was probably the best meal I've ever had.

"Here you are," he said, no— stated. Everything he said always seemed like a bold statement, leaving no space for arguments or fighting.

"Thanks for the dinner. It was little bit much, though," I said, twirling the loose thread on my blazer absentmindedly.

"Too much?" Robin frowned slightly.

"Yeah. You know I would've been contented if you just brought me to a crepe stand or something, right?" I said, my lips quirking into a smile.

"Do you know how many people wait years to get a reservation at that restaurant?" Robin asked, though I figured that it was probably rhetorical.

"No, not really," I said, my grin widening. I fished for the dorm key in my canvas backpack, a lock of hair falling over my face.

"You're unbelievable," Robin sighed, shaking his head and running a hand through his thick, blonde hair.

"So are you," I retorted, twisting the key in the keyhole slowly. I stopped turning when I heard the click of the lock.

"God, you're frustrating."

"How so?" I asked curiously. Robin tilted his head back, staring at the dull ceiling.

"You're an anomaly. While other girls wear their uniforms as fitting as they can, you look like you wore your bedsheets as your blouse. Other girls giggle, you snort like a pig. They smile and you grin, widely, like a clown. I hate clowns," Robin muttered, sighing heavily. His frown deepened when he mentioned clowns, something I noticed and immediately snorted at.

"Being proper is too much work," I explained simply, shrugging my shoulders.

"I doubt being proper is what your problem is," he muttered, before retrieving a steel tin case from his pocket and popping it open to reveal a neat row of black cigarettes. Without hesitation, he took one stick out and put the cigarette between his lips. When he saw me staring, he narrowed his eyes.

"What?" he asked rudely.

"Nothing," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"You look like you clearly have something to say. If you're going to tell me all about how smoking is bad for my health, save it. It's none of your business."

"That's not what I was going to say," I said, quirking an eyebrow at him before pointing at the 'No Smoking' sign at the end of the hall. "I was going to tell you that you can't smoke in here."

"Like I give a damn," he muttered, lighting the cigarette. He took a long drag, breathing it out slowly. As if like magic, the earlier tension in his muscles relaxed and for the first time I saw the stress in his eyes disappear for a moment.

"So why do you do it?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against my door. Robin glanced at me, then at the cigarette in between his fingers.

"What?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

Rolling my eyes, I gave him a pointed look and said, "Oh, come on. Everyone's got a reason for doing something."

"And what if it's a stupid reason?" Robin retorted, taking another long drag.

"If it is, you wouldn't be smoking a cigarette now, would you?"

Robin was silent for a moment, looking at me with a thoughtful expression on his face. I was about to give up waiting for an answer when he finally replied.

"It helps me cope when it gets stressful."

I had the feeling that he didn't usually tell anyone this. I personally had nothing against smoking, having had a few close friends turn to it back home when they find that nothing else can help relieve their stress. It really wasn't any of my business to stop him even if I didn't like it, anyway. I felt that if someone really had something against someone else's bad habits, they should try to find out the reason why that person is resorting to it instead of criticising them straight away. In the end, reprimanding them immediately is only going to cause them to close up instead of trust you, right?

"Glad to know that having to deal with me stresses you out," I snorted, causing him to roll his eyes. Despite that, I swore that his lips twitched, as if he was fighting back a smile.

"You're not all that bad—," he commented, and I almost smiled before he continued his sentence. "When you talk sense."

"I always talk sense!"

"The rest of the population might beg to differ."

"Oh, ha-ha. At least I'm not a complete jerk," I muttered.

"That hurts, Alexandra. It really does," he replied with a smirk, which was probably the closest thing to a smile I was going to get from this insufferable boy. "'Night."

I watched him turn around and walk down the empty hallway, taking long drags from his black cigarette until he turned the corner and disappeared from my sight before I opened my door and went into my room.

  ❁❁❁

The Royals in black and white, plus Yuko's family dog Haru!

  ❁❁❁

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the chapter as usual. I found out a few days ago that 'The Skin On Our Bones', which is my collection of poems, has been nominated for 'Best in Poetry' for The Fiction Awards! First of all, thank you guys! I never imagined that TSOOB would gain much popularity, since it is my first attempt at poetry after all. Time and time again, your endless support has rendered me speechless. If you have the time, please head over to The Fiction Award's (thefictionawards) book and vote for me (as well as your other favourite authors!). Thank you guys! <3

Also (wow what a lengthy author's note), for those of you who are curious, I update every Sunday! Currently, I am only focusing on and updating The Lonely King and occasionally, The Skin On Our Bones. And, I know there are people who are dying to read this story and go over to Radish to read the old version, but please keep in mind both versions will be slightly different and I would suggest you not to read the old one (if you are currently reading this new version) so as to not confuse yourself while reading this book!

#QOTC: Do you ship #Jalex or #Rolex? Or do you ship Alex with someone else (#Lolex/#Yulex)? Let me know!

Song of the Chapter: Bitter Heart by Zee Avi.