Theo clears his throat and Gavin lets out a low chuckle, waggling his eyebrows. “A little young for you, Theo.” I can tell it’s in jest though, Gavin doesn’t seem the type to be judgemental, especially considering he doesn’t know the facts.
“She’s my student.” Theo’s eyes roll. I hate him saying that. “Sophie, did you apply for SCAD?”
“I did… it’s a long shot school for me, though.” I cringe, knowing I’m not likely to get a spot. Cue the embarrassment. Plus, my parents will never approve.
“Well, we’ll see about that! Give me your full name and I’ll take a close look at your application. Any friend of Theo’s is a friend of mine.” He winks, and I light up inside. No way. This is officially the best night ever.
I give him my information and we say our goodbyes, Gavin rushing off into the night. And then… here we are. Left standing out front, the crowd around us thinning as we breathe in the fresh air. Silence stretches between us. I’m not ready to say goodnight.
“I’ll walk you to your car, it’s late. Where’d you park?” Such a gentleman.
“Kind of far… you don’t have to. I’ll be okay.”
He scoffs, “Absolutely not. I’m making sure you make it home safely.” I won’t lie, his protective streak does something funny to my insides.
I turn in the right direction and we walk, side by side. Close enough to touch, but not. The weight of the evening still lingers between us, thick and charged with tension. The chilly night air wraps around me, brushing against my skin. I should be cold, but his presence warms me from the inside out.
It feels different with him now, outside of the gallery, outside of school. The lines between us blur, feeling thinner than ever. A single step in the wrong—or right—direction could lead us both astray. I feel it down to my core.
Theo is quiet, hands tucked into the pockets of his dress pants, his sleeves still rolled up from earlier. He looks different like this. Less polished, more undone. Like someone who doesn’t belong in a place as refined as an art gallery, yet earlier he fit in just fine.
“Are you hungry?” He asks suddenly, breaking the silence.
I glance over at him, surprised. “You eat food?”
A small smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “Occasionally.”
I let the silence fill the space for a moment.
“I guess I figured you survived on black coffee and brooding.”
Theo exhales through his nose, shaking his head. But he still wears that damn smirk on his face. He jerks his head toward the street ahead. “There’s a place around the corner, nothing fancy. But the food is good.”
“I don’t need fancy.” I say, letting him take the lead, a thrill running through me at the realization that I am going out to eat with him.
The small noodle shop is the kind of place that seems to exist outside of time. Dimly lit, quietly humming with life, but never too busy. The air is thick with the scent of soy sauce, sizzling garlic, and broth. The warmth settles into my bones, comforting after the cold air outside. I glance around as we stand in the entryway, waiting to be seated. My fingers are still tingling from where they brushed against Theo’s as we both reached to open the door.
He’s chivalrous, I’ll give him that.
We slide into a booth near the back, and peruse the menu. When the waitress asks for our orders, I defer to Theo, trusting he knows what food here is best. He orders without hesitation. Two bowls of spicy noodles, a side of dumplings, and hot tea for the both of us. My stomach rumbles in anticipation. I hadn’t realized it before, but I’m starving.
“So, do you make a habit of bringing women here for late-night dinners, or am I special?” I smile, mostly joking, but there’s a true question hidden in there somewhere. I want to know how he feels about this. About me. But I’m too scared to ask him outright.
He exhales sharply, shaking his head. But his expression softens at my words.
“I don’t do this.”
I freeze. “Don’t do what?”
His gaze lifts to meet mine. “This.” He pauses. “You.”
The words hang heavily in the air between us. But before I can respond, the food arrives. Steam curls, rising from the ramen bowls. The smell is delicious and savory, overpowering my senses. We grab our chopsticks and dive in, the food exactly what I needed after a long night.
We talk, and it comes so easily. No awkwardness. The conversation just flows between us. He tells me of his travels and I speak of the places I’d love to one day see. We discuss his love for literature, and I’m enrapt as he speaks, the words so infused with his passion. It’s so effortless, being here with him.
I tell him about my art, and how my parents have never understood it. Never appreciated it or encouraged me to follow my dreams. How they see it as a distraction, not a future.
Theo listens intently, his gaze never leaving mine. His fingers tighten around his chopsticks as I detail the things both my mother and father have said to me. Finally, he speaks.
