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He swallowed back the dread that had been growing in his gut since that morning. After her telling him she wanted to see him, to spent time with him he felt his courage increasing, but, he also felt perhaps that this was a mistake. Stella was far too night to him, too patient. Even with her assurances, he wasn't positive he could impress her- and he so dearly wanted to.

He told himself that no, she liked him, she wanted to have his company and he really ought to stop listening to his personal demons. Even if he knew very well Stella was dangerous for more than the fact she was a general. She was also a woman he found himself having rather amorous feelings for that were proving to be heavily complicated. Still, he'd asked her to show up here, at the street corner, for another date. This time to a rather decent restaurant out by the lake. He thought it would be fine, what with a convention in town. Other folks wandered around in costumes, their own uniforms shouldn't prove detrimental.

He'd however, changed a bit of his outfit for more formal styling. Namely, his pants ad bone leggings did not seem very... well they didn't seem helpful in fine dining. He also left his helm at his wonder, not finding a need for it.

Tapping his foot, Paris looked up and down the street hopeful she'd show.

Palms sweaty, arms heavy- Authentic spaghetti. The Italian place was lit and the music wafted over the void of night, and it only kept Paris thinking how cliche it was. It's not like he'd share a plate of pasta with her and kiss her like lady and the tramp. For one thing, he'd make sure she had a plate all for herself.

He felt her before he'd seen her, quickly fussing with his hair and making sure not a speck of dirt was on him. And-
Oh no.
He forgot the bring a flower.

The rock dropped into a cold puddle that was his stomach. Already he was screwing up. Panic in his eyes as he saw her then, her words registered. Panic was rel=placed in a flash with embarrassment.
"I- it's not too much is it?" He stammered. "I mean, it's a nice place, and you always look perfect so I thought I ought t try to be a but more you know-" Paris shuffled.
"um." She had a way of paying him such nice, simple compliments and really, he managed a smile.
"I wanted to show you a good time."

His blush went cherry red.
"Not like that I mean- to dinner. Just dinner."

Stella could murder him. It'd be a mercy.

Paris had one thing going for him. He was wearing deodorant so Stella couldn't see how badly he was sweating. The kiss almost made him stumble -almost- but he smiled sweetly, pink flushed face utterly pleased that she was pleased.

"Well." He wasn't sure where to go from there, leading her to the restaurant.
"I did miss you. I tend to." The admission was honest, and he felt a bit better for it.
"I chose an Italian place- they have great food and music. They make their pasta and gelato in house even!" He was exceited, more-
"I thought that it would be a good choice. I never asked what kind of food you liked." Then he stopped to face her.
"That's what we should do tonight, tell each other about ourselves!"

Thats what couples did right?

Leaning a bit into her, Paris was happy. As silly as it was, he was happy in Stella's company. Their respective sides put to the side. So to speak.
"Thank you, you know. For coming. It must seem silly to thank you but it does mean a lot to me that you'd come."

Leading her to the location in question Paris was grateful that his wonder name was also a fairly common name for a person. The booth was small, and perfectly tucked away from the windows. No one would know they were fratranizing. Or canoodling. But that would be later. Maybe. Hopefully. Picking up the menu, Paris was giddy, eying Stella more than the offerings.
"Uh-" Oh right. "I have a fake ID." He stage whispered. "If you want wine or something."

It was a bit of a relief that she didn't want wine. For one thing, it was expensive, and, he wasn't sure if proper etiquette would have him drink as well. The flattery just served to butter up the knight a bit more, and with a flushed grin he managed to attempt to pay back the compliment.

"No wine for me, you're distracting enough already."

He paused, face darting back behind the menu. That was terrible. Cheesy. Really, who was he kidding? Stella deserved better than such weak flirtations.
"...You know what you want?"

He certainly did. At least, where the menu was concerned.

Meal ordered and on it's way, Paris avoid the question for a few minutes, looking everywhere but Stella's face. He felt out of his depth, like he'd walked into a trap and that trap was one he built and designed himself. Hell, he'd wanted this yet still was so damn afraid of it all the same.

"I have a lot of questions to be honest." He finally managed to say, picking at the tablecloth.
"Why- I mean- why? Why be so nice to me? I'm not on your side, I'm a knight- my wonder is nothing but the dead and a decaying place for corpses. I don't have anything to offer you." He slumped in his seat.

"I just- I like you Stella. But I don't know why I should, or why I do. Why we pretend that we're not-" Not enemies. Not trying to kill each other and instead were on a date of all things.

His sigh betrayed his age, shoulder and posture slumping as she answered him. He so dearly wanted to not have things be complicated but they were complicated. But he also over thought things and really, made them more complex then they really were. He was probably doing it right now. In fact he was sure he was. Swallowing, Paris looked up at her and tried to slow his breathing.

Then she spoke and the breath seized in his throat. Join her? Become ... what? An agent? He had often thought about it. Wondered but-
His eyes went to his lap.
"I- I like you Stella. A lot." He couldn't. Not for her. He would love such a thing- but it had to be more than just for her.
"But..." His hands twisted in each other's hold. "If I did that.. It would be for me. I love how it feels to be with you. You make me feel-" The knights face became inflamed.
"You make me feel so many things. But I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be me then. I don't want something to happen and regret it. Regret you. I-"

He stammered. "I think I love you."
The boy tensed, frozen as he stared at her, realizing what he'd just said.

He was scared. He didn't exactly have a great track record with things relating to emotions but when she stood, coming over and kissing his face?

Paris softened, and closed his eyes, wondering in a dark part of him, if it might be worth it, if it meant he could feel like this forever.

Feel wanted.