She was wearing her B-- shirt; he, a shirt she purchased from a sale eons ago.
She had on her recently acquired brown K-- leggings; he, a faded camouflage Army short pants.
They were slowly walking up the steps leading to the mall entrance. Side by side. After they passed through the guards by the entrance, he turned to her companion and suggested, "Let's go eat to (favorite resto)."
In a flirtatious voice, dripping with honey, she asked, "Are you treating me?"
Instinctively, she curled her fingers on the arm by her side, just above the elbows. Lightly batting short eyelashes, she asked, rather a little breathlessly, "Is this a date?"
He only grunted and gave her the I'm-only-hungry-and-wants-to-eat look.
After finishing a sumptuous meal, sheepishly, he voiced his observation (in their dialect) , "Looks like I'm the only odd stick around here."
She gave him a look that says so-what-it-doesn't-matter-one-bit. Then she offhandedly said, "Oh Honey, but then you're picking up the bill." And all the while grinning with all the sweetness she could muster.