Chapter 117 - Fall for us

He prepared dinner, stir-fried rice with every leftover in the fridge. It's been a while since Grant cooked for me. I had no idea where he got candles which he placed in the middle of the bar facing a second plate. He looked timidly at me when I opened the door.

"What's⁠—?"

"I wanted to make an effort to gain your forgiveness," he gestured to the table. There was only one chair on my side of the bar.

"Don't tell me you're going to risk your life and sit on that chair?" I narrowed my eyes at me. He puffed with laughter then straightened up eyes glistered with joy.

"for you, I will walk through hell," damn, that was cheesy. His smile widened and he settled himself on the precarious seat. I watched him and sat down. He smiled at his empty plate.

"What's funny?" I grabbed my spoon. He tilted his head to the side and laced his fingers together.

-I felt like it's our first date

Our eyes met and locked. What was he talking about? We had our first date. I dug in my memory when it was the last time we had had our date. But couldn't come up with something precise. So much has happened since they both came into my life.

-You don't remember because it never happened. That day Jay Dawson came bursting through the door while I was searching for the candles.

I swallowed and my throat felt terribly dry. So much happened, indeed. He reached his hand and covered mine, his thumb rubbing the gold ring on my finger. I've never taken it off in fear I would wake up from this impossible dream. As if this tiny golden band was the only tangible token linking me to reality.

"We are real," he whispered, his fingers intertwined. He held on and I dove into his silver eyes. His strange perfection with the candle lights dancing over his face softened his features to an almost human standard. His smile was different from his poker-face neutral. It was a mixture of love and pain.

-Don't over analyze it. Don't stop at the facade, I beg you.

I took and deep breath and retrieved my hand under the pretext of eating. The food smelled good and I focus on that task.

"So what topic do people talk about on a first date?" I chewed on my first mouthful longer than need to avoid speaking. I guess the first date must be something important to him. I'll just go with it for now. It was a little ridiculous since we've already slept together. Now that I think about it, our relationship has been all over the place. I've never dated anyone and not following the dating protocol. Getting to know each other, date, officially going out, and s.e.x.

"From the expression on your face, I'm guessing you're thinking about unpleasant topics," he frowned. I looked up and pushed my thoughts away.

"What do you mean, you know exactly what I'm thinking. Aren't you both always in my head?" he pouted and shifted in his seat. I was scared the poor thing wouldn't support his weight.

"Liliane, we don't always peek at your thoughts, sometimes we don't even have to. It's written all over your face," he sighed. "You have no rein over your facial expression whatsoever," he crossed his arms over his chest.

"So what? I can't fake or hide how I feel," I glared at him. Grant exhale, his shoulder sagging. He closed his eyes then flickered them open to rest over me. His poker face smile returning. Yep, he knew how to hide behind a cute facade.

"I love that you are this expressive. All the little movements, the nervous twitches, how your lips curl when you smile and how your body is an open book, are what I love about you. It speaks loudly how you⁠—the mind⁠ behind, is actually feeling," he whispered as he unfolded his arms and placed them flat on the surface of the table. I followed them and stayed a minute admiring his delicate hands. Soft pale skin and rounded pinkish nails. All sculpted by a talented artist. Then I stopped on his new hand. It was not different from the other one. The same color and pretty nails.

"I love your hands," I said before I could stop myself.

"What about me?"

"I don't know if there is a single definition of love," I lifted my head. If we are going to do that date thing, then I'm going to make it real. "I can't compare or measure the feelings I have for you and Demos," he listened with interest. "I only know it's different. I guess different people get different attention depending on their personalities. I just know I love you. I can't put a tag on what it is. I hope I was able to convey it properly," he lowered his head and a weak smile danced over his lips. Was he blushing?

"Thank you," he whispered. He kept his head low with this hair hiding his face. I reached across the table and lightly touched his hair. His head sprung up. He gazed with wide eyes. It gave him such an innocent aspect. With his wavy brown hair and lips slightly parted, he seemed out of this world. I wanted to jump over the table to kiss him. I quickly retrieved my hand and averted my eyes. Damn, Grant what are you doing to me? I cleared my throat and focused on my food.

"It's really good," I said as I chewed.

"Thanks," his voice was weak. I forced myself to not look. But I was dying to know what was upsetting him.

"What does the first date conversation starter video say?" I gave him a quick peek. He offered the same surprise look. Was that the real Grant? He shook his head then opened a screen to check. I chuckled, I merely threw in to change the subject.

"Mm, here it said⁠—" he scrolled through his screen nervously. "I should sit next to my date to create a less awkward atmosphere and that it would facilitate a natural conversation flow. Also, we can touch without it feeling uncomfortable," he just read it then looked up and realized I was listening. Damn, his surprise face is cute.

"Do you want to come to sit next to me?" I smirked. Ok, I am teasing. But his expression was new and I want to test it. I feel like I'm a terrible human being.

"Really?" he sounded stunt and he looked like me was having a hard time processing. Oh, come on, stop playing shy and get your ass over here. I mentally rolled my eyes. When he is with Demos he just goes with the flow and Demos set the pace. But right now, he is on his own and that is so cute to see him hesitate.

He rounded the bar carrying that devil of a chair. I narrowed my eyes at the thing. I was certain it would collapse at any minute. My plate was empty and I touch it away. Grant poured me a glass of water as he settled down. Our hand touched as he handed it. I smiled and studied his face.

"Mr. Leader of the rebellion, are you being shy?" he blinked at me.

"Leader⁠—?" he trailed off. I was teasing but somehow it was true. "I'm no leader," he frowned. Too bad his cute face was gone replaced by that dead serious one I hate so much. If I get it right, Grant's problem was that burden smashing him⁠—the leader who will save the world burden. His eyes were off in the distance. I brushed my fingers along his jaw to get his attention.

"Come back to me," I whispered. He blinked and light lit up his silver regard.

"Sorry," his long lashes flickered and he smiled. I took a sip of water then got away from the bar.

"Come," I extended my hand to him. He hesitated a second then grabbed it. I pulled him closer, his eyes widened as I pushed against him. Oh, here is that face again.

"I like it," I smiled against his lips. He pulled away to gaze at me.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" I considered it for a second.

"Maybe."