Page 12 of The Nixie and the Frost Elf

I clear my throat and push the door open, stepping into the room. "Sorry."

"It's fine, you've watched me play before." She opens her eyes to look at me, the emotion in them almost startling me.

She finishes her song and removes the violin from under her chin. She sets it down on the stand and grabs her bottle of water.

"I didn't realise you still played," I say, looking at it.

"All the time," she responds. "Especially when I want to think."

"What were you thinking about?" I ask.

The pale green skin of her cheeks darkens as she blushes. "Our date."

"Me too." I set my bag down. "A lot."

"It was really fun," she says.

"More than you expected?"

For a moment, I think she's going to deny it outright, but instead, she seems to pause and think. "Yes and no."

"Intriguing." I don't really know what to do with myself. There's a stool by the piano, but I'm not sure that's the right place to sit, especially when she's still standing.

"I thought I'd have fun with you," she says. "So yes. But I also find dates stressful, so that's a no."

A horrible feeling constricts in my stomach. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," she promises, stepping closer. "I had a great time, and I didn't feel stressed at all."

"Good. I don't want you to." My words come out as nothing more than a soft whisper.

She looks at me, her dark green eyes sparkling in a way that has nothing to do with the light in the room. She's so breathtaking. I've known it ever since we met, but it's entirely different now, especially when she knows the reaction I've been having to her for years.

"So, does that mean that you might be willing to go on a second date with me?" I ask.

"Absolutely."

"Good, because I think I have an idea."

"Is it playing cards and eating our body weight in sweets?" she asks.

"Is that what you'd like?"

She nods.

"Then we can do that. We can probably book one of the recreation rooms, or something," I suggest.

"Or we can just use one of our rooms," she responds. "It's not like we haven't done that plenty of times before."

I nod, a little surprised that she's suggesting it, but glad that she feels comfortable enough to. "Yours or mine?"

"Well, my next-door neighbour likes to have loud drinking sessions in the kitchen multiple times a week, so I'm going to say yours, if that doesn't impose."

"It's not the first time you've invited yourself around to my home," I point out.

"I can uninvite myself," she offers.

"Absolutely not." I step towards her until she's so close that all it will take is one movement, and we could touch.