[Samantha Pike]

It has been a long week.
Everyday there was a new patient coming to her office, to book apointments, and she was the only psychologist on her office. Of course, it meant more work, more people to help, but also less time for her, even though she gained more. Maybe it was time to find someone to join her private office. Another psychologist. Someone she could trust. But who?

Samantha walked down Commercial street, toward Adiva restaurant, one of her favourites in London. It had a very warm environment, with lovely service and it wasn't expensive as well. She still remembered the day she came to London to study psychology and searched restaurants in the internet, on the city and close to it. She had found Adiva restaurant and decided to make a reservation. Since then, it became a rotine to come to that restaurant, at lunch, during college and then when she started working, until the present time.

Smiling and breathing the scents that came from Adiva, Sam entered and chose her favourite table, the one close to the window. Every place she went, she would choose the table close to the window. It had more light, she could observe the surroundings and it was usually close to the door as well, in case any emergency. It was the perfect place. It took a few minutes before a waitress materialized in front of her, giving a menu and asking what she wanted to drink. Samantha asked the usual, an ice tea and then glanced at the menu and asked some particular entries, along with a main dish. She returned the menu and waited.

While all the process of making the food and waiting, the ice tea was served, and while Sam sipped on it, she observed the inside and the people in it. There was the typical couple here and there, smiling and having their usual romantic luch, there was a group college students chatting about exams and specific subjects, and then there was a very unusual group composed by an adult, one young woman, a child and a baby. They were the ones making more noise, but also the most colourful group in the restaurant. Samantha observe them longer, savouring everything they did, taking advantage of her enhanced senses.


((I'm sorry for taking so long to start the thread, and for being so small. I guess my muse is dying, so soon.))

[lillian james]

"Why is that man fat?"

LILLIAN could feel her cheeks burn a bright red as Deacon pointed his index finger towards a man seated in a corner by himself. The man was, indeed, fat. He was slouched over a bowl of soup, slurping obnoxiously, his attention elsewhere: Lillian just thanked the high heavens that he did not hear Deacon's question. "D..." Lillian warned, as the little boy turned to the waitress. Hands on his hips and eyebrow quirked in question. Lillian clenched her eyes shut tight. Oh god, toddlers and their many questions. The waitress looked baffled, her mouth opening and closing before her eyes shot quickly to Lillian. "Because he is." Lilly stated, smiling a 'sorry' to the redhead. She grabbed Deacon's hand, kissing his fingers playfully and handing him a coloring book. "Here ya go, kid."

Lillian smiled at the waitress who was biting her lip, trying not to laugh at the situation at hand. "Your son, he's cute." Lillian laughed, shaking her head at the young woman. It was a common mistake. The two, beautiful, blonde-haired children closely resembled her: with their soft pale skin, and shining eyes. But, sadly, the Harris children were not her own. However, Lillian James loved them as if they were. Lyra and Deacon were her life and it upset Lilly that she spent more time with them then their own parents, "He's not mine. she grinned, watching waitress glance at her feet embarrassed. This poor woman was not having a good day. First the 'fat man' question and now this. Lilly chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, "Don't worry. It happens all the time. Um, we'll have a chicken tenders meal for him with milk, and I'll have a lemonade and a salad."

Lilly watched the woman scurry away before turning her attention back to the children. Lyra's eyes were fixed on the white tablecloth, a teaspoon in her left hand. She glanced up at Lillian, blinking before hitting the spoon on the table and laughing. Lilly shook her head with a smile. "Lyraaa." she sang, laughing as the baby tapped the spoon each time she spoke. It was as if they were making a quiet song, a simple melody that rang through the restaurant.