Movie Date and Ice Cream?

Cereus

The dim glow of the screen cast an ethereal light on Matthew's face, highlighting the worry lines etched prematurely around his eyes. Half an hour into the movie, and he hadn't uttered a single word. Usually, he'd be cracking jokes, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, or stealing popcorn kisses. My stomach twisted with a growing unease.

Maybe it was the movie choice. This movie might have been a stark contrast to Matthew's usual upbeat energy. Or perhaps it was something else entirely, a shadow lurking beneath the surface of his playful demeanour. I snuck a peek at his hand resting on the armrest, knuckles white as they gripped the fabric.

"Hey," I murmured, leaning closer. "Everything alright?"

He offered a tight smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, just... lost in thought."

Lost in thought, huh? My gut churned. Matthew rarely got lost in thought, especially not during a movie date. He was too present in the moment, too alive with vibrant enthusiasm. But I didn't want to push. Maybe he just needed some space.

The movie continued, a slow, agonizing crawl towards some inevitable heartbreak. My own mood dipped with each passing scene, mirroring the on-screen tragedy. I tried to focus on the story, but all I could think about was Matthew's silence, the way his gaze seemed fixed on a point beyond the flickering screen.

Suddenly, he rose, mumbling an apology. "Washroom break," he explained, his voice strained.

I watched him disappear down the aisle, the darkness swallowing his tall frame. A wave of helplessness washed over me. I wanted to understand what was wrong, to chase away whatever dark cloud was hovering over him. But Matthew was a fiercely independent soul, and sometimes, the only way to help him was to give him space.

The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. Just as I was about to consider abandoning the movie myself, the familiar scent of his cologne wafted into my nose. Matthew reappeared, his face a little paler than usual, but with a hint of colour back in his cheeks.

"All better?" I asked, my voice soft.

He gave a tired smile, this one reaching his eyes. "Yeah, much better." He sat down beside me, brushing a strand of hair away from my face with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. He took my hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of my hand, which made my heart skip a beat. As he squeezed my hand gently, I could feel all the concerns in my heart melting away like butter under a summer sun, making me look forward to the rest of the evening.

The rest of the movie flew by in a comforting blur. Matthew's playful commentary returned, his laughter filling the small space between us. He snuggled closer, his arm finding its way around my shoulder. It was the simple act of his touch that spoke volumes - a silent reassurance, a whispered promise that whatever storm he was facing, he wouldn't face it alone.

As the credits rolled, he leaned in, his warm breath tickling my ear. "How about we go grab some real ice cream?"

I grinned, "Sounds perfect", I replied.

We left the dimly lit cinema, stepping into the cool night air. The world seemed a little brighter, the stars twinkling a little more intensely. Maybe the movie started as a downer, but Matthew's presence beside me was a balm to my soul.