OMAKASE

THE PRIVACY OF THE INDECISIVE

“I SUPPOSE MY REPUTATION PROCEEDS ME,” is his attempt at staying humble. given her acceptance, he looks to finalize their stay. but he cannot escape fast enough to elude her hands.

“ah,” he says, almost absent mindedly, as he presents himself for her. “is that the attentiveness that makes your bouquet bloom so lovingly, fiorelli?”

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

OMAKASE

THE PRIVACY OF THE INDECISIVE

“IT’S AN ANALOGY,” he insists.

“but this,” his eyebrows raise, a slight waggle to point between them, “can be whatever you want it to be.”

he extends a hand, palm face up, open for the taking. “just as long as you don’t get lost.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

OMAKASE

THE PRIVACY OF THE INDECISIVE

IN PUBLIC, despite their seclusion, he refrains from intertwining fingers. instead, his hold together, supple and full, as their embrace leans toward a more conservative approach. an easy denial that can be attributed as courtesy, should someone recognize him, but that doesn’t stop him from keeping her hand closer to his side.

ferried between them.

the general interior is not far off from johtoian architecture of old. the fashion resembles the oriental flair of ecruteak, small spaces that keep people together. personal.

the layout is small and the bulk of it is taken up by a long winded sushi bar. like promised, there’s seldom spots, each one already taken by other customers. much too late to such a well received hole-in-the-wall, they’re shuffled into a small private room. screen doors slide open and leave them to a shared table with matching pillows.

when their host slides the door shut behind them, fernando answers her.

“people like to think they know me.”

his voice seems louder now that they’re alone and isolated.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

OMAKASE

THE PRIVACY OF THE INDECISIVE

“PERHAPS,” is his diplomatic way of either saying he doesn’t know or he disagrees. he commits to neither, vocally, experienced enough to know that doing so never goes the way he wants it to.

“but familiarity can create predictability. once you know someone—really know someone—you can predict what they’ll say, what they’ll do.”

he sits on the pillows, across from her, forearms against the lowered table. a single paper menu lies at the center, a list of hand written items with a small description under each.

“that being said, i think i know myself quite well.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

OMAKASE

THE PRIVACY OF THE INDECISIVE

“NO,” he answers simply.

despite her own review of menu, fernando refrains from touching it. in fact, he largely ignores it in lieu of a snipper of her eyes.

“people think they know a lot about me before even meeting me. you get used to it,” he reveals. with such a grand namesake, the fame and pressure that comes with it is one he’s long adjusted to. a quiet, private life, would be impossible without disappearing altogether.

such is the power of silph.

“i find people believe what they’re told about others quite easily. all without every verifying is such claims are true.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

OMAKASE

THE PRIVACY OF THE INDECISIVE

“OH?”

even fernando isn’t sure whether or not he’s caught off guard. so, uncertain, he allows the silence to fester.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli