Votive

[selenias]

Rita didn't know what to expect. Between the food, the people, and his knee touching hers, it really shouldn't have felt so disconcerting.

Wringing the fabric of her dress in shaky hands, Rita stared at the tabletop, the small candle lit there, and the dark, lightly illuminated walls that made up their small private booth. If Raven hadn't been sitting next to her, and hadn't lightly given her knee a squeeze when people started looking at them, she was sure she would've snapped.

“Easy, darlin'...” he murmured, and Rita watched the votive's flame, wishing she were anywhere but there.