I’m telling him about my cousin, who lives downstairs when he yawns and rests his head on the arm of my sofa, clearly exhausted. I don’t know how, but we’ve been inching closer as the minutes pass and our stories keep going on.
It almost feels like we’ve known each other for a lifetime, and not just a few weeks. That’s how I’ve been told it works. Chemistry. Compatibility. Old souls reincarnating to find each other life afterlife. I truly don’t believe any of that rubbish, but he’s fun to talk to, and as far as I’ve seen, is the least judgmental bloke I’ve met. Every time I think he’s going to look outraged by one of my old Secondary school studies, he laughs instead. A musical, loud laugh that makes me blush.
“Am I boring you, Sam?”, I ask as I glance at my wristwatch. It’s three A.M. already.
“God no, it’s just-“ he says before another big yawn, “I’ve been up for ages.”
December 21st I feel like a proper fool as I sit at the piano and see Sam out of the corner of my eye. Tonight, he is sharing his table with a red-haired woman, chatting and laughing like they’re the only people in the room. She has her long fingers wrapped around his wrist, and he’s only looking at her. His big curious eyes focused on hers, the rest of us unworthy of his attention. I wonder why he didn’t think of having some class and going somewhere else. I close my eyes and breathe in, thanking myself for replying vaguely to his texts this week about visiting him. I school my face back to casual boredom, trying to stop my hands from shaking. These feelings of rejection, I can handle. I’m familiar with them. Thank Christ it ends here. I can’t look at him again. I start playing Chopin’s nocturnes to match my mood and try to mute everyone around me. If I can get this set d
SAM Staring at Theo during his set is probably more than I should be allowed to do, but I indulged anyway. Now that I’ve gotten to spend a few hours with him, I’m latching onto the slightest possibility of us dating. Or seeing each other again. His accent is posh, and all his mannerisms are too, but I find myself relating to the things he says. Despite our wildly different backgrounds, he’s still figuring out who he wants to be. He’s a little lost, but that’s okay. I can be his company, as long as he wants me there. “Hey,” Rose taps my hand, and holds her drink up to my face, “Try this cocktail. It’s insane.” I grin at her and take a sip directly from her straw, “Oh wow, the peaches are really coming out. Lovely,” She laughs, and she’s pretty. Her long hair flows down her shoulders and back like a silky curtain, and her eyes are sparkling now. I do not doubt that she deserves to find someone who cherishes her and wants to try every singl
Sam“I, Uh-no,”Theo runs a hair through his hair and looks at the door behind me, “Then what the hell are you doing here?”“I wanted to talk to you, you weren’t outside,” I babble because I don’t know what I expected. For him to throw himself into my arms? Maybe.Instead, his gaze is cold and bored.“You shouldn’t be here, this is an employee-only area, so,” he stands up and straightens his jacket. He’s the image of self-control, poised and composed while dismissing me like I didn’t talk to him for hours on the floor of his living room.I know better than this, though.“Look, I get that you might be confused since we hung out last week,” he explains, “But trust me, it was just a one-time thing. We had a fun, experimental night, part of living out your twenties and all that, but I think that’s what it is. Y
It’s unsettling to watch Sam’s demeanour change completely. From confident and tender to stiff and withdrawn. His eyes immediately focus on the floor, on the sofa behind me, they roam the room looking anywhere but me. It instantly reminds me of an older version of myself, one where I hid behind a glass closet whenever my father was looking my way. It’s heartbreaking, but I understand why it has to be this way.I wait for him to say something, but he stays looking down at the floor. It’s awkward, and for a second, I consider darting out without a word, but that’d be a recipe for disaster. Not that whatever this is won’t be messy, but still.“Certainly, I-“ I try.He ignores me, “Son, what are you doing here?”He nods obediently, “I was talking to Theo about a piece, Um, that I heard tonight. That’s all, yeah.”Oh. My. God. Is he being purposefully obtuse?&n
Chapter twelve Sam Theo is coming over. Theo Oblinger, Economics professor and classically trained pianist is coming over to my dingy flat for dinner, and then God knows what else we’ll get up to after. I didn’t think he would accept, and he went ahead and surprised me by saying yes. It’s only noon, and I’ve just gotten back from London but I’m already planning what I’m going to make for him. The whole train ride I dozed off and then started thinking about what I could make for him. One of the things I like about me is that I’m ace at cooking. When I was a student, I couldn’t really afford to eat out except for the occasional cheap takeout, and my curiosity to try good food pushed me to learn to cook. Of course, I’m not a pro and my knowledge comes mostly from internet recipes, but I’ve been told I make a good meal. Andrea used to love my cooking, and she’d often volunteer to buy groceries so
TheoI absolutely hate myself for being on my way to Brighton, instead of going home like I said I was going to. I’ve got no reason to be following through with this date, yet I still can’t help but go for it. Worst case scenario, we make out and never see each other again.I’m hopeless. It took me almost an hour to decide what to wear, and I still went back and changed one last time before leaving the house. The wine on my passenger seat is screaming “date” and although I don’t want to think of it that way, it’s pretty clear that for Sam, that’s what it is.I haven’t gone on a date for years now. Probably since I was still at uni. I was always more of an obsession for the guys that I was into than something worth knowing. Kevin took me to watch a film that he clearly wasn’t into, as all he did was yawn and caress my leg. Once it was over, we went straight
TheoDinner was stellar. There’s an old, antiquate saying that goes something like “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”, and I couldn’t agree more at this moment. Throughout my life, I’ve had my fair share of posh dinners, even tried many different cuisines, yet the way the food was prepared with so much care beat them for me.He outdid every roast beef I’ve ever eaten, except my Nanny’s.The meal was rich and paired with the wine, has made our stomachs feel full and heavy. Not to mention that Sam is fun to chat with. He tells stories from everything from his patient's sweet stories to how he learned to cook. I don’t think he can tell how much I admire him, but he’s pretty much my favourite person to talk to now. When I went on about every mundane detail of my day, like telling him about how packed the petrol station was, he laughed with me and aske
Theo The sea is calm, unwavering in front of us. It’s not an impressive sunset since it’s the middle of the winter, but it’s still hypnotizing to watch the waves come and roll away. I wonder if he’d like to take me on one of his famous walks…He startles me by reaching between us and grabbing my free hand from where it’s hanging off the armrest. I let him, because what else am I supposed to do? Not let myself indulge in his affection for a little while? “Did you like dinner?” he asks softly. I look at him. His eyes are lovely in the light of the setting sun, and his hair shines golden. It takes my breath away. How can someone be so beautiful and good and genuinely like me? I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my lips, “Yes. It almost beat my Nanny’s. So good.” He rolls his eyes, “Of course. So posh. It’s okay. I’m not a sore loser.” I feel myself grinning. He lifts our joined hands and kisses the back of my hand. It’s somewhere be