He walked up to your apartment, a nervous smile shaky on his face. Taking in a deep breath, he knocked on the door and waited with excited impatience. You opened the door slowly and grinned cheerfully.

 “You ready?” he asked. Nodding eagerly, you followed him back down the stairs. He took your hand in his, walking with you slowly and happily.  

As you walked together to his car he slung a sturdy arm casually over your shoulder. This was date number three, and you were really beginning to feel relaxed around each other. Finally outside, you turned around to wrap your arms about him in a tight hug. He smiled, his eyelashes grazing your cheek like delicate music notes. For a moment he lingered, his face barely inches from yours. The moment was nearly unnerving, the two of you standing together with only the sound of your breathing. You stepped back, lowering your arms to your sides and shifting back and forth on your feet. He seemed to shake away the moment with ease, cleverly hiding his equally as awkward of a response. Opening his car door, he helped you in and turned to the driver’s seat.

“Let’s go!” he said, and you saw the ivory smile return to his expression. He parked carefully behind a restaurant you hadn’t tried before. It was small and tucked away, the perfect place for the two of you to be together without exposing yourselves to the public eye. The owners were understanding, and they saw to it that the both of you enjoyed a peaceful meal. While you waited for the food to arrive, his hand rested lightly overtop yours. It was funny, you thought, how comfortably they fit together.  

The food arrived, your conversation lighthearted and enjoyable as you began to eat. The window next to your table was lightly frosted from the cool night air. Outside, a few other people sat at round tables covered by a lattice overhand and lit by tiny yellow tea lights. The ground was frosted with a fresh dusting of snow, as scattered flakes trailed slowly from the sky.

Your eyes wandered frequently for the meal’s duration. Between the picturesque window, your steaming meal, and the smiling man in front of you, it was nearly impossible to stay focused on one thing. He had no difficulty, focused only on you across the table. He watched how your lips moved when you spoke, how your eyes curled happily when you began to laugh.

When you returned home, the both of you lingered quietly outside your apartment door. The frosty air bit at your cheeks, bringing a rosy flush beneath your skin. He shifted, pressing his warm palm against your face to offer you heat. You smiled, comfortable beneath his contact. Again he hesitated, opening his lips slightly as though stumbling over the beginning of a difficult sentence.

“This question is kind of weird,” he began, obviously nervous. “But can I kiss you? I mean, I know that might sound weird and everything but I just really like you and-”  You smiled, nodding gently as your cheeks flushed brighter than before, grateful that he had been the one to address a question wandering through the minds of both of you.

He placed a tentative hand on your chin and guided your lips up to his. He smiled, leaving a light kiss before tilting his head lower to look directly in your eyes.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” he promised, pressing his palm against the door as you opened it. You smiled, waving goodbye as he walked back to his car. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he shuffled quickly through the snow. With his back turned you couldn’t see his face, but you would have seen a radiant and excited smile, nearly identical to yours.