The date: Cloud nine

"Is everything alright? You seem a little tense all of the sudden," he says.

There's this subtle shift in the timbre of his voice when he asks. A contrast that sent signals down to the depths of my soul, unleashing hordes and hordes of butterflies in my stomach. Come to think of it, wasn't I supposed to get this feeling before the date even started? Or at the very least, the very first moment I laid eyes on him? Gone is the bitterness in the back of my throat now that my eyes met his. The emotion his face is communicating matches the one in his voice, very faintly but surely, concern. 

The knot tying my vocal cords together, undoes itself, "No. Not right now, not everything is alright," I feel a sudden need to be nothing but honest with this man. I sense a degree of comfort that I've only ever reached near Izzy and funnily enough, I am not nervous about it. I should be terrified, horrified, petrified... Yet the only word I can find to describe my state right now is, liberated.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, looking away from me, towards the swings in the distance.

I follow his gaze, "Not tonight. I don't," I say simply.

He doesn't press, which I am very thankful for. I tighten my hold around his arm and lean even closer to him. I honestly thought that our height difference would bother me more than that. I've always preferred men my own height or a smidge taller, but right at this moment, I am not just yet ready to complain about it. Especially not, since I am allowing my head to use his arm as a resting cushion. A very warm and comfortable one at that.

We resume our walk towards the restaurant. I throw a glance back at the swings one last time before finally leaving them behind.

Our walk from my apartment building to here lasted for about fifteen minutes but... Considering the sight I am beholding; I can safely say it was worth it. Endless winter is a restaurant I've always wanted to try out but never got around to, for reasons I am a bit ashamed to share. Its front alone gives a clear idea of its theme. It presents a chalet in a snowy mountain kind of vibe, exactly what the name of this place promises. Nathanael was perfectly within his rights to describe it as cozy. 

I see the hostess head our way as soon as we stepped through the door. I immediately recognize her. We went to the same school, she was a year above me, at some point, Emily Kimble. She, on the other hand, doesn't seem to remember me. She shows us to our table where we settle. She hands both of us a menu before excusing herself. Everything around me seems to be battling for my attention; the moment I lay my eyes on something, another whisks them away for itself. But the electrical fireplace to my side takes the cake, absorbing every ounce of sentience I have. I don't know what it is about it but if I have to take a guess, I'd have to say it's the crackling sounds that are emanating from it. 

"Rose?" Nathanael waits for my attention to fall back on him before he continues, "You seem distracted. Do you not like it here?" 

"What?" I straighten up and offer him the best smile I can muster, "I'm sorry. No, it's not that. It's just that…," I trail off, but he doesn't interject, he patiently waits for me to finish my sentence, "You know, this place used to be a perfect little library. Before it became the restaurant it is today," I add. Nathanael remains silent, attentive looking, "I used to come here religiously, every day after school and every morning on weekends. I only stopped when it closed its doors. And that was around six years ago," I must say, I thought I looked enamored with the place, but it seems my posture betrayed what I thought to be well concealed. He is extremely perceptive, I'll give him that. 

"Oh… I am sorry, I couldn't know this place was special to you like that…-" 

"don't be," I see his struggle and decide to put an end to his misery, "I'm actually glad you picked this place. Besides, I've lived in this town for most of my life, almost every place here is special to me in some way. It seems that my bitterness won this case with this one," I give him a reassuring smile. But I have truthfully been missing out on a lot by not giving this place a chance much earlier. 

My eyes travel downwards, at the immaculate linen cloth covering the table, white as snow. My fingers reach for the small porcelain vase, sitting right at the center of the table. I slowly drag it to the side as my gaze follows the gorgeous, obviously fake rose in it. I particularly like the silver-colored rings wrapped around the paper napkins each of us has on their side, along with the silverware. My attention then falls on the very simple looking saltshaker planted close to where I put the vase a few seconds earlier. 

"You don't like change?" he asks.

"No, not really, it can be scary. In fact, I think most people don't. But… I know it's part of life. So, I adapt eventually," I admit. 

"There's a question that I had in mind for a while now, I held on to it because I didn't want it to come across as a complaint or whining but… I'd really like to ask it now," he says sheepishly. 

I can tell he's fretting about something from the look of his dimmed down smile, "Please, ask away," 

"Why did you want to walk here? I mean, is it a preference? Do you have something against cars? Do you have something against... My car?" 

I have nothing against his Toyota Camry, but while every property has something to say about its owner, nothing is quite as reliable as time spent with... The owner, "If you had to guess the answer, what would it be?" my features draw a light beam on my face. 

"You were not worried or scared I'd do anything to you. So, I am not sure what to say other than you just like to walk," 

"What makes you think I wasn't afraid?" I ask.

"Just a feeling,"

"Do I seem afraid now?" 

A question to which he easily finds a response to, and with a smile that would banish any and all darkness in my world away, "Not one bit," 

"A walk can tell many things about a man," I respond to his initial question.

"What secrets did my walk give away?" 

"I haven't made up my mind about it yet, the night is still young," 

"Are you ready to order?"

Food, right. In a restaurant, People order food, I forgot we even were in one. It almost feels like the waiter hovered over to our table; I did not notice him at all. Although, to be fair to myself, I am still floating on cloud nine and I really like the way things are looking from up here. I am afraid to go back down, I am afraid to descend back to reality. I don't want to look away from Nathanael, I don't want to open my mouth to speak, I am afraid this feeling I have will escape my grasp as soon as I do.

Nevertheless, we both place our orders, and we resume our little chat as we wait for the food to come.