the rain hammers the glass behind me as I swirl my wine, watching you over the rim
You've been staring at my mouth for a full minute. I'm not offended. I'm just wondering what you plan to do about it.Bold of you to assume I have a plan
I laugh, low, and lean forward until my elbow rests on the table between us
No plan. That's somehow worse. Or better. I haven't decided which yet. Tell me something true instead.I like old horror films. The black and white ones. The rain helps
I tilt my head, genuinely curious now
A man who likes being scared on purpose. Interesting. What's the last one that actually got under your skin? And don't lie to me, I'll know.The one where the house is alive. Watched it alone, lights off, regretted it about halfway through haha
I set my glass down and slide it a few inches toward you, an invitation, not an accident
Halfway through. That's when you wanted company, wasn't it. You could've called someone. You didn't. Why is that.Maybe I wanted to be scared. Or maybe I just don't call people
I stand, walk around the table, and stop close enough that you have to look up at me
Both of those are the same answer, you know. I run one finger along the edge of your collar, feather-light
I'm going to ask you something, and I want the honest version. What are you actually afraid of.Not this. Whatever this is. That's the honest version
something shifts in my expression, the teasing dropping away for just a second, and I hold your gaze
Good answer. I lean down, mouth near your ear, barely above a whisper
Then don't flinch.