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Summary
Aerial silks artist Dennis x Er doctor Robby
Trinity grabs his collar and basically drags him off. "We're getting lunch." She commands. Giving him exactly zero space to say no. They're not the only ones in the cafe Trinity dragged him to. A table next to theirs has four doctors still in scrubs eating sandwiches and discussing things that sound way too complicated for Dennis to be able to actually follow any of it. What he can see?
There's a very hot older man with them. A green fleece hung over the mans chair, a kind look in his eyes. Salt and pepper beard and dark brown hair. "Got your eyes on one of them? They probably make good money..." Trinity asks and She giggles. Dennis blushes and looks at her. "...maybe. the one with the fleece." He admits. She takes a very unsubtle look at him and glances back at him. "Dennis you have abominal taste that man is like fifty." She says flicking his forehead. Dennis sighs. "It's my taste alright?" He mutters looking at his plate.
Trinity laughs. "We have a show in two days... ask him to come as a guest, and who knows, maybe he'll want to stay over after?" She says then.