André was judging. Hard.
His eyes were on Noah as he continuously chewed on the straw of his Frappuccino, a glaze of whipped cream visible on his lower lip. Noah was covered with dark clothing from head to toe, his hands and forehead the only thing practically visible.
He looked ridiculous. He wore on his head a thick woollen beanie and a face mask that covered half of his face. His eyes were also shrouded from view by his heavily-tinted sunglasses from Bulgari, and he even had a huge scarf wrapped around his neck.
The maître d’ had offered to take his coat earlier but he had refused even when it’s obviously 20°C inside. Of course by this time, Zac had already heard about Noah being the Prince of Belgium and along with it, the news about their arrest going out into the public. That was
