It’s That Love
We’re at a lounge
It’s about two more groups shy of being cramped but we’re here and it’s comfortable for now. We came for drinks so of course we’re at the bar. When you asked what I wanted I blurted out margarita because a bartenders skill is always questionable. They’re shoulder to shoulder up there & not moving until a drink occupies their hands...but its only been a few minutes and what’s the rush? You tell me a joke that I won’t remember tomorrow but you love my smile and it feels inviting. A few people are trying to get passed you, moving out the way closer to me naturally your hands fall at my waist, they stay there. Everyone has passed so you can move back now, but you don’t. Instead you slide two steps to the right, behind me, tightening your hold pulling me closer to you. I’m 5 foot 2 so you’re still checking for the bar over my head. Why do we fit so well? Over my head. But it’s not the warmth of your chest or the rapid thumps within it. Its not that intoxicating cologne or the strength in your arms. Its not the slight sway we’re making to the music, proving our bodies have chemistry. Its not that you made sure to take in my scent before whispering in my ear. It’s the fact that I heard you ask, in your deep voice and confident tone, “Is this ok?”
We’re at a restaurant
I knew what I wanted to order immediately because this is my favorite restaurant and I decided in the car. You awkwardly smiled because you don’t want to take a while, I reassure you with “take your time”. To ease the pressure I explain how I always have a hard time choosing between my two favorite dishes, I’m always indecisive about my food. We smile at each other, forgetting where we are, you look mesmerized and I adore how you adore me. Suddenly feeling the menu in your hands again you double check your choices. After asking what I want you share what you’re getting, good choice. We get drinks first because admittedly we’re both nervous. Why not take a shot we both arrived from ubers. You take yours down and barely show a wince, julio, smooth. I sip and babysit with no contest from you, you let me do what I do because my comfort is your priority. But its not that we’re at my favorite restaurant even though its a little pricey. Its not that your big smile greeted me at the entrance when I walked up. Its not that you helped me remove my coat and pulled out my chair. Its not how you corrected the flirty waiter with “my lady” after she called me your sister. It’s that you announced to her you’ll be ordering for me and got both of my favorite dishes.
What is it about him?
Love Nita