She smiled confidently.

- Well, it's about time, you smiled.

She became serious.

- I'm waiting. Tell me what happened and why you feel so close to me.

He moved his head a little and looked at her mockingly.

-Really? I'm worried. I can't remember anything.

- I know. I know you might not like it if I tell you. I know wine makes us bolder, or rather more transparent.

- Stop it! Flavia stated emphatically. - You're going to use that cliché about how when you're drunk, the part of you that you keep hidden comes out, aren't you?

-I was going to say that. It may be a cliché, but it's true.

- OK. So which part of me do you think I keep hidden or don't know about at all? 

Flavia demanded, her tone annoyed.

-I haven't said it yet and you're already upset. I'm going to say it anyway. See?

Flavia met his gaze directly, her eyes holding his.

- Right. I came up to you in the pub. You were having a great time and being completely yourself. We talked and then went dancing. We went out together. I was going to take you home, but I had to stop somewhere first. You had your car, but I didn't let you drive. You weren't fit. I got it later with a friend. Once we were done, we went to your house, but you were too unwell to make the journey and threw up. I took you home, put you to bed and left.

Flavia looked at him in disbelief.

- That's it, then. I like it. Why shouldn't I? You were a gentleman, through and through.

-I don't know.