Keifer (pov)
I reached early.
Not because I had to.
Because I wanted to.
The street was quiet, the sky shifting into that soft evening shade where everything slows down. I leaned against the car, keys turning lazily between my fingers, my eyes drifting to her door more often than I'd admit.
Waiting didn't feel long.
Not when it was for her.
Then the door opened.
And there she was.
I straightened without thinking, my focus locking onto her instantly.
She walked out like it was normal. Like she didn't just change the entire atmosphere by stepping outside.
A loose white tee with strawberries printed across it, soft and slightly oversized, moving lightly as she walked. Light blue wide-leg jeans that fell perfectly, and white sneakers—simple, clean.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing forced.
But on her—
it worked too well.
"…yeah," I thought, watching her come closer.
"That's mine."
She stopped in front of me. "…what?"
"Nothing."
"That didn't look like nothing."
I stepped closer, just enough to make her look up at me. "You look different."
"Good or bad?"
"Good."
A pause.
"…really good."
She tried to stay normal.
Didn't quite manage it.
Then she leaned in—
a quick peck on my cheek.
And stepped back.
I stayed still for a second.
"…that's it?" I asked.
"You got something."
I let out a quiet breath, a small smirk forming. "…you're going to regret that."
"You keep saying that."
"And I mean it."
We got into the car.
The engine started, and the drive began.
Quiet at first.
Not empty.
Just… calm.
Her hand slid into mine halfway through, like it belonged there.
I held it.
Firm.
Steady.
"You do that a lot," she said, glancing at our hands.
"Do what?"
"Hold my hand like I'll disappear."
I looked at the road, then briefly at her.
"…just making sure you don't."
"I already told you," she said softly, "I'm not going anywhere."
"I know."
A pause.
"…still."
She didn't argue.
A few seconds passed before she spoke again.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
"That's not an answer."
"It's enough."
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "…you planned this."
"Maybe."
"…you definitely did."
I didn't deny it.
We reached the café.
Soft lights glowing through the glass, quiet inside, just enough people to keep it alive but not crowded.
I stepped out first and walked around to her side, opening the door.
She looked at me.
"…you're doing too much."
"Get out."
She shook her head slightly but stepped out anyway.
Inside, it was warm.
Low music playing, soft conversations in the background.
We took a table near the window.
She sat down, and I took the seat across from her.
The waiter came.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Something simple."
"That helps."
She rolled her eyes. "Coffee. And… something sweet."
I nodded. "Two coffees. And whatever looks good."
She looked at me. "…whatever looks good?"
"I'll decide."
"…control issues."
"Only sometimes."
When the waiter left—
I looked at her.
She noticed immediately.
"…eat when it comes."
"I will."
"You're staring again."
"I know."
"…why?"
I leaned back slightly, still looking at her.
"…because I like looking at you."
She paused.
Just for a second.
"…you're not even trying to hide it."
"Should I?"
"…no."
The food came.
She started eating.
I didn't.
"…eat," she said again.
"I am."
"No, you're not."
"I will."
"You're impossible."
"Still here."
She tried not to smile.
Didn't succeed.
After some time, we stepped out.
The air cooler now, the sky darker, streetlights casting soft shadows.
We walked slowly.
Not rushing.
Our hands brushed.
I took hers.
Didn't let go.
She glanced at me. "…you planned this."
"Maybe."
"…you like saying that."
"I like watching you figure it out."
"…annoying."
She didn't pull her hand away.
That was enough.
We stopped near the car.
Neither of us moving.
I stepped closer.
My hand resting at her waist, pulling her just enough.
"…you're doing that again," she said softly.
"Doing what?"
"Not letting me go."
"…not planning to."
And I meant that.
I looked at her—
really looked.
Not just how she looked.
But how she stayed.
How she didn't pull away.
How she trusted me enough to be this close.
"…she chose me," I thought.
That settled something in me.
Completely.
I leaned in.
And kissed her.
Not rushed.
Not light.
Slow.
Deep.
Like I had time.
Like I wasn't going anywhere.
Her hand tightened slightly against me, and that was enough to pull me deeper into it.
When I pulled back, my forehead rested against hers.
"I like this," I said quietly.
"What?"
"Us."
She looked at me.
"…me too."
I smiled slightly.
Yeah.
I'm not letting this go.