“If I knew we were going to dinner, I would’ve dressed up.”
“You look fine,” Leo said. The words alone didn’t sound like a big compliment, but the way he said it, so simply and earnestly. His gaze fell to Pippa, who had flopped onto the lawn. “Sorry, I should’ve told you about dinner, but I thought you might say no. I mean, you can still say no. But I just wanted to see you in person.” He scratched one ear.
“Why do you want to take me on a proper date?”
“Because…I’ve been thinking over these past few weeks, and…shit,” he muttered. “I’m not making any sense.”
I waited.
“Because I do like you, Edwin. I want to be with you. I know it’s been weeks since we talked, but I used the time to think things over. Then I worried that I’d taken too long and it was too late, but I want to explain things and…and to say sorry.”
I stared at him because this was what I wanted. This was what I imagined moments before I fell asleep. Part of me resented how quickly the rush of happiness flooded me — how much I wanted to touch and hug him and return to normal.
“Okay,” I said, which was a lame response but also thankfully disguised how ecstatic I was. “Let’s get dinner.”
Leo’s brows lifted. “Yeah?” He smiled — the first proper blinding smile. “Are you happy to go now?”
“Sure.” I looked down at Pippa. “But what are we going to do with her?”
“I know a place that has outdoor seating.”
We started down the footpath. Pippa yipped at a few of the nearby dogs but soon settled into a happy trot. We made our way through Flagstaff Gardens, and I noticed Leo glancing at me in my periphery. When we arrived at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the lights to turn green, he fidgeted, shifting the dog lead from one hand to the other.
I was surprised by his nervousness until I realised I was also fidgeting — tugging at my clothes, fixing my hair. It was weird, like we were strangers again.
After a long silence, Leo explained that we were going to a street in Carlton that was well known for its restaurants, particularly its Italian cuisine. The walk felt short, but perhaps that was because I spent the whole time with my mind preoccupied.
He said he wants to be with me.
Soon, we arrived at an Italian restaurant with an outdoor seating area, lit with string lights and candles on the tables and kept warm with tall metal gas heaters in the corners. It was busy, even for a random weeknight, and we had to wait in line for a few minutes before we were led to a table at the end of the outdoor dining area. The waitress looked uni-student age — Arts, I guessed, from the lip piercings and sleeve tattoos. After she handed us the menus, she offered to get Pippa a bowl of water, which Leo accepted with a smile and thanks.
We spent the next few minutes in silence, reading the menu.
“What do you think you’ll get?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“I heard the pesto pasta was good, so I’ll probably get that. You?”
I hummed, tapping a finger against my mouth. “Probably a pizza. The margarita looks good.”
Leo nodded and flipped through the rest of the menu. “Do you want an entree? Or something to drink? There’s wine. Lots of it.” His eyes flicked down the page. “I don’t even know what half of this means.”
I huffed a laugh. “I’m okay. I’m happy to have lemonade.”
Leo met my gaze. “Alright,” he said.
When the waitress returned with the dog bowl of water, she took our orders, and Leo ordered a soft drink too, but he got Solo. After the waitress left, the air between us turned awkward. I glanced around the restaurant, which was filled with couples and families of all ages. On the other side of the road, men and women stood outside their restaurants, attempting to convince passers-by to eat at their business.
When I turned my attention back to the table, Leo was watching me. The look in his eyes made my stomach flip, but then he quickly averted his gaze, doing the same look-around-the-area, tug-at-clothes routine.
“So,” he said.
“So,” I said.
He looked down, took a deep breath, and then met my eyes again. “I saw your LULL post.”
It took me a second to realise what he was referring to, and then my cheeks flamed.
I buried my face in my hands. “Oh my god,” I said. “I didn’t mean for you to see that. As in, it wasn’t intended for you. I just blurted out my feelings and —” I paused, then removed the hands from my face. “Is that why you reached out?”
