The hustle and bustle of the restaurant around them camouflaged their struggle to converse. Though at the same time the missing words were building a deafening silence between them, which seemed to spread an uncomfortable tension through the place. The waitstaff that came and took their coffee order pursed their lips and stood up straighter than usual when facing him. As if scared that he would shout or perhaps that he wouldn't say anything to them at all, either. A woman sat to his right, also sitting much straighter than one would think was usual, tensing her buttocks and pursing her lips. She held her water glass with two hands, analysing the small amount of water in it. Swirling it around, tipping it from side to side, and then finally looking up, eyes pleading for a waiter or waitress to come over to pour some more water. Anything to interrupt the now almost five minutes since she had uttered some words she had struggled to string together as an answer to his interrogation. After a couple more arduous minutes, she gulped down the last mouthful of water in her glass in one grand motion, smacking the glass back onto the rough wooden table. At the same time, finding the courage to turn her body towards him, she looked at him - directly - stared at him - at his face - that face. He was sat there. Staring back at her. Judging, though looking satisfied with the situation and generally pleased with himself. His black coffee sent steam trailing through the air into his moderately larger sized nostrils, that flared slightly as he inhaled the familiar earthy scent. An animalistic grunt came from deep within his throat that sent his belly bouncing. It could have been a cough of course, only he was smacking his lips and looking down at the uncertain but determined woman in front of him. The deep grunt was a clear exertion of his power over the situation, and over her. She continued to stare at his face, rather shocked and still unable to add anything to their essentially non-existant conversation. His moustache was a lawn that had been cut with those big, old grass shears. Roughly chopped dry grass one could say. And it didn't seem to start or stop anywhere. The rugged, messy array of thick, slightly red spikes of hair continued from his upper lip into his nostrils, down around his chin and around his neck, and were even poking out of his ears. She sat there for a few more moments, praying for someone to interrupt them, shuffling a little in her seat, before finally stating "I'll get you a piece of cake to go with the coffee." This allowed her to get up from that darned chair, slowly wander over to the counter and dart into the ladies room, where she was immediately faced with the tempting option to toss her handbag out the window, hoist up her dress and rather clumsily climb out after it. She stood there for a moment, staring at her reflection in the mirror, a slightly bewildered look on her petite, pale face, unsure of what to do.