“Aaaaaah…”

“Allison, you don’t have to—”

“Aaaaaah!”

“Really, it’s not necessary—”

Remy gave an exasperated sigh as Allison stared back at her, an expression of irritation taking shape like dark clouds gathering on the horizon. Her lips formed a stern pout as she continued to hold a fork loaded with potato salad aloft. With the look of annoyance rapidly intensifying and the fork still hovering in the air as still as stone in front of her face, Remy knew with absolute certainty that the matter wasn’t negotiable. As if confirming the suspicion, Allison released her pout just enough to speak once more.

“Aah.”

Sighing again as a smile began to form, Remy parted her lips and leaned forward. In the time it took her to blink, Allison’s mood shifted to excitement as she carefully placed the fork in Remy’s mouth. Remy had to focus to not laugh out loud as she saw how quickly the change had taken place.

How are you this cute? Even when you’re mad, you’re adorable.

Even if she wasn’t legitimately angry, the irritated look was too intense to think that it was just an act. The only other explanation for how quickly it had changed was that, in spite of how intense that irritation seemed to be, she cared more about what she wanted than she did about briefly not having it. It gave Remy the impression that she was someone who was accustomed to getting her way. The thought that would normally annoy her to no end but, watching Allison’s cheerful smile outshine the glow of the street lamps above, Remy could only feel an overwhelming need to give in and spoil her more.

Seemingly encouraged by Remy’s pleased response to the potato salad, Allison excitedly loaded the fork again. It was the same as it had been with the charcuterie board earlier; she had quite literally not allowed Remy to lift a finger through the entire course, feeding her everything she tasted. Given that she was the type to take the lead, Remy initially assumed that there was something to the order of the different foods that was significant but, when Allison started to ask her what she wanted to try next, it became apparent that she was simply intent on pampering her. It made her feel awkward and uncomfortable, prompting her to give a reminder that Allison was supposed to be relaxing rather than worrying about being a perfect host. Before she could say anything, though, the look of joy on Allison’s face stopped the argument in her throat. Thinking about it more, Remy had to admit that Allison certainly seemed more relaxed than she had initially, the return of her usual cheer being a world removed from the nervous energy that she’d been radiating as she began unloading her car. Though Remy couldn’t understand it, something about pampering her seemed to be making Allison happy. That led Remy to reluctantly admit that being given so much attention wasn’t entirely unpleasant and, more than that, she wasn’t entirely certain that she would’ve complained even if it had been.

Whatever it takes to make her smile.

It wasn’t until half of the potato salad on Remy’s plate had been eaten that she noticed that Allison’s own plate had yet to be touched. Allison appeared to be either oblivious or uninterested, still cheerfully feeding Remy and paying the food in front of her no attention. The same thing had happened with the charcuterie board, and Remy’s vague sense of discomfort again quickly took the form of overwhelming guilt.

“Allison?”

In the middle of loading the fork again, Allison looked up in surprise. “Wh—what’s wrong?”

Restraining another sigh, Remy pointed at Allison’s plate. “As much as I love having your attention…”

Allison looked down at her plate, a note of confusion momentarily contorting her features before she began laughing quietly. “I was getting to it.”

Gently placing a hand on Allison’s, Remy’s gaze became stern. “Eat.”

“I will, I just—”

“Eat.”

Looking as if she was thinking hard about something, Allison was quiet for a moment before finally relenting, her pout already beginning to resurface. “Fine, I guess I’ll—hey!”

It was Remy’s turn to be surprised, wondering what she’d done to earn Allison’s reaction of what looked like shock as she reached for her fork. “What? What’s wrong?” She looked at Allison, who didn’t seem to be looking directly at her. Following her line of sight, Remy realized that Allison wasn’t looking at her as much as the fork in her hand, staring intently as though it had somehow offended her. Realizing what was happening, Remy couldn’t entirely contain a chuckle.

“Really?”

Allison stabbed her fork into her potato salad, showing none of the gentle care she’d shown when feeding Remy and looking as if she was in the midst of some sort of time trial. “Really.”

“I’m not going to pretend I understand entirely, but you really don’t have to, you know…especially if it means not eating yourself.”

Her mouth full, Allison seemed to be concentrating again as she chewed for far less time than Remy felt was safe before swallowing. She turned her eyes toward Remy, no longer looking annoyed or playful anywhere near as much as pleading. “I…won’t take long.”

Allison again shoveled more into her mouth, moving so quickly that Remy flinched, thinking that she’d just stabbed herself. Smiling, Remy reached out again, this time gently caressing her cheek. “Okay, okay…I’ll wait. Just slow down before you choke.”

Coming to a dead stop in an instant, Allison’s gaze became unfocused as her cheeks took on color. She looked up at Remy, smiling at her with a dreamlike gaze and nodding before returning her attention to her plate. Remy’s concern hadn’t quite faded, but her heart softened on seeing how much it meant to Allison that things continued as they were. She still didn’t understand, but Remy was willing to compromise as long as Allison wasn’t neglecting herself, especially for her sake. There was still an underlying sense of guilt that kept trying to creep to the front of all of her emotions, but the feeling of being cared for was managing to keep ahead of it. It was unfamiliar, but it wasn’t unwelcome. It just took some getting used to.

Besides…it’s not like I can say no to you for long.

Remy watched quietly as Allison ate, marveling at how everything about her could be so perfect. Even the way she ate, taking small, polite bites once the sense of urgency finally left her, brought to Remy’s mind everything she’d learned that a perfect lady should be. For the first time since finally rejecting such expectations when she’d grown weary of having them placed on her, she was able to appreciate them. She still didn’t feel that meeting anyone’s expectations suited her, a point that had been driven home more than once since meeting Allison, someone who seemed to accept everything about her willingly. Seeing Allison’s flawlessly meeting those expectations herself, however, made Remy think that the idea had at least some merit. There was no arguing with results, and Allison was a perfect example of everything she did.

You really could do better than me, you know.

Allison suddenly stopped eating and began looking back and forth between Remy’s plate and her own. Both plates were cleared to roughly the same extent. After a nervous glance at Remy from the corner of her eye, she again turned her attention to Remy’s plate and loaded her fork before lifting it to Remy’s lips.

“There…now we’re even. Aaaaaah…”

There was a knee-jerk reaction telling her to argue but, seeing that Allison had done what was asked of her to a reasonable extent and noticing the hopeful expression on her face, Remy again smiled and parted her lips. As the fork touched her tongue, a vague thought began to form that filled her with a sensation that she couldn’t quite place. Smiling peacefully, Allison pulled back her fork and loaded it again before taking a bite herself. The sight of it sent a cascade of emotion crashing down on Remy as she finally realized that, with the beginning of the current course and the need for silverware, Allison had only been using one fork the entire time. Seeing Allison eating with the same fork that had been feeding her made Remy’s face burn, causing her to instinctively look away as, for the first time since they’d started eating, her head began swimming and she was all but incapable of focusing. Nobody paid as much attention to her as Allison, though, so she wasn’t particularly surprised when she saw Allison looking at her and burning with curiosity. Not even being able to imagine just how awkward she must look in that moment, Remy didn’t bother trying to avoid explaining and quickly began fumbling for words.

“I…I didn’t realize at first…I mean…”

Following Remy’s glances down to her fork, Allison stared at it for a moment before acknowledgment became apparent on her face. Rapidly turning a deep crimson, she gave an embarrassed laugh. “I…sorry, I…guess I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to—”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Something about Allison’s expression, heavy with what looked like disappointment, caused Remy’s thoughts to clear just enough to seize the opportunity to take decisive action. Looking at the loaded fork in Allison’s hand, she ignored both the apology and the burning in her face and again parted her lips.

“Aaaaaah…”

Her hand slightly trembling with what could’ve been either excitement or relief, Allison lifted the fork to Remy’s lips. Silently chiding herself for having strange thoughts, Remy couldn’t ignore the fact that, in spite of already thinking that Allison had outdone herself, she couldn’t help thinking that everything somehow suddenly tasted even better.

The course continued quietly, with Allison’s going back and forth between feeding Remy and eating herself. It wasn’t until both plates were clear that she finally spoke again as she stood and, taking the plates from their chargers, headed back to the plastic bins.

“So…what did you think?”

If I die right now, I’ve lived a full life.

Coming to her senses just in time to avoid voicing her thoughts, Remy scrambled for more appropriate words. “It was amazing.” With a sly glance at Allison, she added, “Surprising nobody, of course.”

Allison stifled a giggle as she quickly turned away. “Oh, come on…it wasn’t that good.”

Remy shook her head, her expression suddenly stern. “It most certainly was. You definitely hit the mark you were aiming for. The texture was smooth—fluffy, even. You barely had to chew it. Also, the flavors were balanced. It definitely falls in line with what I would expect from the café but, at the same time, you wouldn’t mistake it for anything other than potato salad. Combining the extravagance and the familiarity might take people some time, especially when starting off with something as fancy as wine and cheese. I doubt it will take long, though. It sure didn’t take long for me to start thinking of every other potato salad I’ve ever had at every other picnic, but this is just…better. If anything, I’d be more concerned that you’ve ruined it for everyone just because you’ve raised the bar for potato salad too high.”

Allison came to a stop as she was approaching with another covered dish, staring blankly at Remy and looking dazed. It took a noticeable length of time for her to recover, looking down at the dish in her hands as though she’d forgotten she was holding it. She placed it carefully on the table before reaching out and cradling Remy’s cheek in her palm, staring into her eyes with the same incomprehensible expression that Remy had seen several times earlier, looking as though she was trying to reach a decision about something. Eventually, she gave a slightly strained smile as she pulled her hand away before reaching for new plates.

“I…thought you said you didn’t know anything about cooking.”

Still trying to make sense of Allison’s reaction, Remy put the thought aside for a moment to respond. “I don’t. Those were just observations.”

“It’s hard to believe that you gave a response that detailed without knowing anything.”

Seeing where the conversation was going, Remy was ready to make any sacrifice to send it in a different direction, gladly trading one humiliating admission for another. “Believe me, I don’t. To date, my greatest culinary accomplishment has been finally figuring out how to get all of the ravioli out of the can without splattering half of my kitchen with tomato sauce.”

Remy nearly breathed a sigh of relief when Allison, holding her stomach and laughing, seemed to be sufficiently distracted from her line of questioning. Before she could let it out, however, she received a harsh reminder of Allison’s expert knowledge that she admired so much.

“That bad, huh? Then how did you learn about balancing flavors?”

Remy froze in place, holding her breath and waiting as if hoping Allison would pass by without noticing her. Seeing the curiosity and expectation in her expression and realizing that there was no avoiding the question without outright lying, Remy finally admitted defeat. “I…may have done some research over the last few days.”

Still laughing softly at what she had likely assumed was a joke about the tomato sauce, Allison’s mind apparently needed a moment to process the implications of what she’d just heard. After a long moment, her eyes slowly widened. “Wait…do you mean…?”

Remy nodded as if she was looking at a judge and pleading guilty. “Yeah, I…studied. For a date.”

There was a long pause, the moment filled only by Allison’s staring in shock while Remy looked anywhere other than back at her. The moment came to an abrupt end with a loud squeal that startled Remy and started her heart hammering madly. Before she could ask what was happening, Allison had wrapped her arms around Remy and buried her face in her neck.

“And you called me sweet!”

Remy’s brain raced through its store of memories for anything that would give the moment some much needed context, but it produced nothing. “I…wait, what?”

It took Allison several seconds to stop peppering Remy’s cheek with kisses long enough to reply. “You are the cutest—sweetest—most thoughtful—”

Remy could barely make sense of what she was hearing, each compliment being interrupted by another peck to her cheek that derailed her attempts at logic and sent her mind reeling. Seeing that Allison had apparently given up on communicating her thoughts and was simply swaying back and forth while tightening her grip, it occurred to Remy that perhaps it was best to stop worrying about it and just take a good result for what it was. She didn’t understand, but Allison was happy and, ultimately, that was what she cared about most.

It took a long time for Allison to calm down enough to carry on with dinner, something that relieved and disappointed Remy in equal measure. It was no small consolation that Allison had returned to feeding Remy with the introduction of the next dishes, a new recipe for a pasta salad and a dry aged Chinook salmon that she seemed especially excited about serving. Remy was amazed by how much space Allison occupied in her thoughts that it had taken her so long to finally be able to appreciate the food; the effort that had gone into it was obvious, but how little expense had been spared only made itself apparent when Remy recalled the cost of Chinook salmon from all of the trouble she’d gone through just to find a reliable source. That it was dry aged and ethically sourced—what seemed to be what excited Allison most—made it trivially easy for Remy to determine that, even being a locally sourced ingredient, the cost must have been absurd. Again, a strange feeling akin to guilt began to creep toward the front of her emotions when she thought about how much must have been spent on her for one evening.

As she was searching for the right words to offer to cover some of the cost of the dinner, Remy’s thoughts were disrupted by the feeling that she was the focus of attention other than Allison’s. A quick glance gave the impression that they were more tourists, likely drunk from their staggers, blatant staring and the fact that they were talking far louder than they seemed to realize. She was about to ignore them and silently hope Allison didn’t notice until she heard conversation in the distance that she couldn’t dismiss.

“—see that? They’re just so cute! They must be a new couple!”

Remy couldn’t hear what followed, high-pitched laughter drowning out the other half of the conversation. She didn’t need to look up to confirm that the words were addressing the two of them, however. She only needed to look at Allison, in the middle of lifting a fork heavy with salmon that she was just about to feed her, seemingly frozen in place and blushing fiercely as a shy smile made itself apparent. Remy had a list of questions forming in her mind, but she set them aside for the moment in favor of the relief that came from seeing that Allison didn’t seem to be annoyed by the attention. That realization, however, brought to mind a question of its own.

“They…don’t bother you?”

Still blushing, Allison seemed to remember what she was doing and lifted the fork to Remy’s mouth. “No…not this time.” As Remy was chewing, she didn’t wait for the inevitable question to answer it. “They weren’t looking at you. They were looking at us.”

Again, momentary relief was interrupted, this time by Remy’s feeling herself growing warm again. She thought about it more as she chewed, and the weight of what she’d heard finally began to bear down on her. Someone had looked at them and simply assumed that they were a couple, and a cute couple at that. Logically, it stood to reason; nothing that they’d done since meeting each other that evening would indicate otherwise, even to a casual observer on a first glance. What was so overwhelming was the fact that Remy hadn’t dared to consider there to be anything official between them yet. Between the fact that they were in the middle of their first date and the fact that she was still getting used to the idea that it was, in fact, a date, thinking that it was a done deal already seemed hopeful to the point of being foolhardy at best.

Seeing Allison eating from the same fork she’d just used to feed her and still blushing at the assumption, however, Remy admitted that perhaps, just this once, it was alright to dare to hope. Her inhibitions muted by declarations of intent and endlessly flowing wine, she had been far more bold that evening than she ever would’ve imagined possible even several hours earlier. Just as she had begun to wonder if she was pushing her luck, though, it seemed that the whole of the world around her was conspiring to keep pushing her forward.

“So…do you think…?”

Shaken out of her thoughts by Allison’s voice, Remy’s heart began to beat wildly as she again dared to hope. “Think what?”

Allison fidgeted for a moment, a look of concentration on her face. “Do you…think that we…?” She went silent for a moment, struggling for the words to give to her thoughts.

“Yeah…I think we’re a cute couple.”

Even Remy’s own acceptance of her newfound willingness to hope for the best couldn’t prepare her to hear her own voice saying what she was thinking. Her mind was already racing for a plausible explanation for what she’d said when it was derailed by Allison’s gentle touch caressing her cheek.

“Tonight was supposed to be such a simple thing…just meeting for dinner.”

Remy sighed as she placed her hand on Allison’s. “It doesn’t feel simple at all, though, does it?”

Allison gently shook her head in agreement. “I…don’t want it to end.”

There was a look of longing in Allison’s eyes, and her voice was heavy with sorrow. As much as Remy wanted to miraculously have the right thing to say again that would bring her smile back, all she could think in that moment was that she wanted the same thing. As that thought occurred to her, it brought another with it that found her voice before she could stop it.

“Then let’s not let it.”

Before Remy could try to take the words back, Allison’s eyes suddenly went wide as her hand began to tremble. She opened her mouth to speak several times, each time closing it as if giving up on trying to force the words to come. Finally, her voice found its way to Remy.

“W—want to move this dinner? To…to my place?”

Remy’s mind was a beehive of confusion, thoughts flying seemingly randomly in every direction. Fears, potential implications and endless possibilities clamored for her attention but, as she found herself silently nodding in agreement, she could only focus on one.

I want to be wherever you are.