The date

I held his hands, my gaze locking with his. Calm and steady, but my head and mind were screaming, "I can't believe this. He said he loves me. Chris Martinez's loves me."

"I love you too," I whispered, squeezing his hands gently. A wave of warmth flooded my chest, a strange mix of disbelief and hope. "What time is the date tomorrow?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"After your work," he replied, his voice a soft murmur. His hands, warm and strong, gently brushed my hair, then cupped my cheeks. I found myself licking my lips, waiting for that kiss, that spark of connection I had been yearning for.

"Bad girl," he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You're already licking your lips. How come you were still a virgin?" His words were light, teasing, but they held a hint of curiosity, a spark of desire that echoed my own.

"Maybe my V was waiting for the right guy to penetrate," I replied, licking my lips again, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and fear.

He leaned in, his lips gently brushing against mine, and then, with a surge of intensity, we kissed. It was like magic, a burst of electricity, a connection that sent shivers down my spine. His lips were warm and firm, his touch possessive yet tender. It was as if our souls were colliding, a spark igniting between us, a fire that threatened to consume us both.

I felt my breath hitch, my body responding instinctively, pulling closer, urging him to deepen the kiss. His tongue tasted of mint and something else, something exhilarating and intoxicating. It danced with mine, a playful battle that quickly escalated into a passionate exploration. His hands cupped my face, his thumbs gently stroking my cheekbones, his touch sending a thrill through me. I felt myself melting into him, surrendering to the intensity of the moment.

The world around us faded away, all that mattered was the heat of his lips against mine, the way his body pressed against mine, the feeling of our souls entwining.

He pulled away, his breath catching in his throat. "I don't want to take advantage of this moment," he said, his voice a husky murmur. "Not when you're still so…" he trailed off, his eyes searching mine, a mixture of respect and desire.

I nodded, my body screaming for more, but my heart understood. He was right. This moment, this connection, needed time, space to breathe. He lay down on my bed, pulling me close, my head resting on his chest, his strong hands gently brushing my hair. We drifted off to sleep, the warmth of his presence, the comfort of his love, surrounding me like a warm blanket.

It was so good, I didn't even notice Emily calling. When I woke up, the morning sunlight streaming through my window, he was gone. I sat up, a wave of disappointment washing over me. Should I be angry that he left without a word? But then, I saw a note beside my bed. I picked it up, my heart filled with a mixture of anticipation and affection.

"You slept so well and I didn't want to disturb you," the note read. "See you at night." He concluded it with a heart at the tip.

"Old school," I giggled, a smile spreading across my face. It was the best night of my life.

I came back from work as usual that night, a familiar routine that felt strangely comforting in the face of the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. I slipped into a black short underneath my knee-length gown, the fabric shimmering with tiny hand-sewn beads and glowing stones. I paired it with high heels, not too high, not too low, a perfect balance of elegance and comfort.

As if he was watching me dress, a stone hit my window almost on time. I looked down, a playful grin tugging at my lips. "You need to stop doing that," I said, my voice echoing through the open window. I turned, the soft chime of my heels on the hardwood floor a pleasant counterpoint to my racing heart.

"Dad, I'll be back before twelve," I announced, heading downstairs. He probably didn't hear me; he was likely already asleep. "Guess he's out cold," I muttered, sliding into the cool night air.

Chris was waiting, his smile a beacon in the twilight. He held out his hand, his eyes sparkling with mischief. We ran, a burst of laughter echoing through the quiet street, towards his car parked in the nearby park.

"Are you always this playful?" I asked, my breath catching in my throat, a smile blooming on my face. "This is just the tip of the iceberg," he replied, winking. He opened the car door, a silent invitation, and then slid into the driver's seat.

The car journey was a blur of high music and shared laughter. Time seemed to fly by, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of colours.

"Are we not there yet?" I asked, slowing down the music, my eyes scanning the dashboard clock.

"Almost," he replied, his voice laced with a playful energy. He pulled into a parking lot, the sleek, modern building in front of us illuminated with an inviting glow.

"Where are we?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"You'll see," he winked, his smile a secret promise.

He took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring, and led me into the building. The moment I stepped inside, my breath caught in my throat. The lobby was breathtaking, a symphony of expensive fabrics and intricate designs. The building was impossibly tall, a tower of glass and steel that seemed to pierce the sky.

We stepped into the elevator, the sleek chrome walls reflecting our images. I had a thousand questions swirling in my mind, but I kept quiet, captivated by the spectacle unfolding before me. We ascended, the numbers on the display changing with each floor, a silent countdown to our destination.

Finally, the elevator doors slid open, revealing the top floor. We stepped out, and Chris led me up a short staircase, our footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, his hand outstretched, a wide grin on his face. "We're here," he announced, his voice filled with excitement.

I looked around, my jaw dropping in amazement. We were on the rooftop, a small, secluded oasis of tranquility in the heart of the city. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of jasmine, the city lights twinkling like a thousand stars in the distance.

"Wow," I exclaimed, my voice filled with awe. It was like a mini home, a perfect hideaway, with natural breeze, a tranquil escape from the bustling city.

But confusion crept in, a nagging sense of unease. "What are we doing here?" I asked. "I thought it was supposed to be a date. Are we on a suicide mission?" I couldn't help but joke, my heart still racing with the unexpected turn of events.

"Just watch," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He reached into a large bag that I hadn't noticed him carrying, and with a flourish, he dropped it to the ground. He pulled out a small, portable mat and spread it out on the floor, creating a cozy spot amidst the urban landscape.

Then, he brought out three bottles of wine, each one a different shade, a collection that spoke of his refined taste. Just as I was about to ask where he had gotten them from, a young man, around twenty, appeared at the entrance, carrying a large wooden box.

Chris received the box with a grateful nod, his smile warm and welcoming.

I watched, my curiosity piqued, as Chris gently placed the box on the mat, beside the wine bottles. He lifted the lid, revealing an array of culinary delights. There were roasted chickens, juicy steaks, slices of creamy cheese, small chops, and three different types of rice, each one perfectly prepared.

Chris arranged the food on the mat, his movements graceful and efficient. Then, he turned to me, a proud smile on his face. "Come, sit," he said, ushering me towards the spread.

I sat down, my eyes wide with wonder. All I could manage to utter was a stunned "Wow." I had never expected this, this luxurious picnic under the city stars, this unexpected display of thoughtfulness and affection.

We ate, feeding each other, laughter bubbling up between bites. It was as if we were two kids, discovering the joys of food and company, a carefree abandon that washed away the weight of our pasts. We shared stories, not about our personal lives before we met, but about dreams, ambitions, the little things that made us smile.

Each minute, each second felt like a precious gift. I savored the taste of the food, the warmth of the night, the feel of his hand on my back, the sound of his laughter, as if it was our last day on earth.

"I never believed a day like this would come," I said, my voice soft, a hint of melancholy creeping into my tone. "A day where I felt so… so happy, so carefree."

"You're beyond social media, Chris," I added, a mischievous twinkle in my eyes.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I have never brought any girl here before," he confessed, his hand gently resting on my shoulder. "You are a wonder," he said, turning me to face him, his gaze intense, his words heartfelt.

Just then, two figures emerged from the entrance of the rooftop, their presence a jarring interruption to our bubble of happiness.