It had been a while since he had been out like this. When he was twelve years of age, he remembered dancing, twirling around adorable ladies overripe with the aroma of concentrated, floral scents as well as pointing and snickering at how his best friend so stiffly danced. The only girl that asked Lutz to dance with him had been so brave to ask for a dance from his best friend, especially since Felix himself was at his friend’s side the entire time. When they actually had begun to dance, he remembered how wonderfully the two glided on the floor. With her skill, his friend’s fumbling feet glided with ease, and he recalled thinking that it would have been a fine festival if he hadn’t been so envious of the girl.
Feeling a startling squeeze at his rump from his dance partner, he yelped aloud and forced himself to shrug off the memory as everyone around him erupted into giggles. Ah, never mind the past. It was time to focus on the now. Why was he remembering such tiring things whilst he was out dancing? He should be celebrating his return! In Wales, there was no time for festivals and squealing ungodly notes of music late into the night. It was all work, work, work in his cousin’s home.
Maybe all that demand for work had changed him. Now that he thought about it, all he had done since coming back to London was visit friends, tinker idly with watches, and drink cups of tea as he stared out the watch shop’s window. He hadn’t moved an inch in the name of work.
He laughed. He was kidding himself. He didn’t miss work at all. However, there was something about work that made him smile at the end of the day. What exactly was he missing?
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught an unmistakable glittering, and instinctively looked up to catch its source: a shoddily dressed man shoving something into his pocket. Now, if the man were nothing special, Felix would have skipped over him and continued on dancing, but instead, he kept on staring. What was the man thinking wearing that thin attire at this time of year? What he had was no better than going around naked.
After the music quieted down and the dance had ended, he pecked his dance partner on the cheek. He watched her retreat to her retinue of friends with a shrill squeal. Chuckling, Felix fixed his coat and went off to a stall and ordered. He was famished. After giving the cook a small compliment on her complexion, he turned on his wooden leg with two, steaming pies in his hands. Now he was faced with the challenge of actually approaching the man.
With a deep breath, Felix strode over to the other and put on his best smile. He had gone through a list of possible opening lines in his head already, and when he stood in front of the man, he finally settled on one.
"Excuse me, Sir? You look poor and chilled to the bone. Would you like to taste a warm pie with me?" Ah, he had almost forgotten. He was frankly terrible with introductions.
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