Part 1
I'm walking toward the café to meet you for the first time and I can feel the nervous energy growing in my belly with every step. I've been trying to keep my expectations in check all day, but it's impossible not to overthink. What if this doesn't go the way I hope it will? What if we don't click in person? What if I don't feel like you imagined, or you don't feel like I imagined? The stakes seem so much higher than with anyone I've casually dated before.
We've talked enough to form a friendship and bond, more than I expected for just a few weeks. That connection is part of what makes this so exciting, but also terrifying. I keep telling myself it's just a drink, a hug or two, maybe a kiss, but my stomach doesn't buy it.
Then I see you standing outside. You're leaning against the railing, scanning the street, and I know you're waiting for me. The nerves don't go away, but they shift into an excited feeling. When your eyes meet mine, your whole face breaks into this big, genuine smile, and for the first time all day, I feel like things are going to be just fine.
You step forward and open your arms without hesitation. That one gesture is all I need to know you're happy to see me too. I don't stop to think--I just walk straight into you.
The hug is everything I was hoping for. Your arms wrap around me in the best possible way, and I let myself relax into you, my hands resting on your back. It's warm, solid, comfortable, safe. You feel exactly right, and I wonder if you're noticing the same.
"Finally," you say quietly, your voice close to my ear.
I laugh nervously and in that moment, the fear I've been carrying all day starts to fade. The way you're holding me tells me this isn't going to flop and I just let myself melt into you.
When we finally pull back, I meet your eyes and realize how close we still are. There's something steady in your expression like you're as relieved as I am. You're not rushing to put space between us, and neither am I.
"It's really good to see you in person," you say, your voice calm and warm.
"You too," I say, trying not to let my smile give away just how good this feels.
We pause there for a moment, then you gesture toward the door and say, "Shall we?"
"Yeah," I say, nodding, and we head inside together. I'm still nervous, still wondering where this will lead, but at least I know now that seeing you in person--hugging you--feels better than I dared to hope.
Part 2
As we walk inside, the buzz of the café wraps around us--a mix of low conversations, soft music, and the clinking of glasses. The hostess greets us and asks where we want to sit, I pause, glancing at you.
"Bar or booth?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual.
You tilt your head, considering for a second. "Booth," you say with a little smile. "I want to be able to look at you while we talk."
My stomach does that nervous flutter again, but I nod and follow the hostess as she leads us to a small booth tucked into the corner. It's perfect--just the right amount of privacy but still close enough to feel the energy of the place.
Sliding into the seat across from you, I can't help but notice how relaxed you look already. You lean forward a little, resting your elbows on the table.
"So," you say, your voice low enough that it feels like just for me, "Tequila shots, right? Let's start this off right."
I laugh, finally feeling the tension in my shoulders start to melt. "Absolutely. No better way."
The server comes by, and we order--two shots of tequila with all the goods and a couple of snacks to share. As soon as the server walks away, I realize I'm still trying to figure out what to do with my hands. Do I rest them on the table? Fold them in my lap? But then you stretch your arm across the table and reach for my hand and hold it gently as you lean in again.
"Alright," you say, grinning now. "How nervous are you, on a scale of one to ten?"
I roll my eyes, laughing again. "Oh, you know, just a solid six. Maybe seven."
"Seven?" you tease. "That's not too bad."
"What about you?" I counter. "You seem ridiculously calm."
You shrug, but your smile softens. "I've been looking forward to this and I stopped being nervous the second I had my arms around you. I'm just... happy we're here."
Before I can respond, the server is back, setting the shots in front of us with a flourish. We each pick up a glass, and for a moment, I can't help but notice the way your hand wraps around it--strong, steady.
"To... us finally meeting," you say, raising your glass.
"Yes, to us finally meeting!" I agree, tapping my glass lightly against yours before bringing it to my lips. The tequila burns, but it's a good kind of burn, the kind that feels like waking up.
The ice is officially broken, and as we settle into the booth, I realize that all the build-up, all the nervous energy, was worth it. Sitting here with you feels natural, and easy. And as we talk, I can't help but think about how good that hug felt, and how much I'm already looking forward to the next one.
The tequila shot does its job, taking the edge off my nerves. You look entirely at ease. Meanwhile, I'm still buzzing, but it's a good buzz now, an electric kind of excitement that's more fun than scary.
We start talking, and the flirting comes easily, your teasing remarks, the way you lean in just slightly when I'm talking, genuinely listening to every word, we're connecting just like we always have virtually.
"You're trouble, you know that?" I say at one point, shaking my head and laughing as you crack another joke.
"Me?!" you reply, looking mock-offended. "I'm the least trouble you'll ever meet. You, on the other hand..."
I raise an eyebrow, playing along. "Oh, yeah? What about me?"
"You've got this look," you say, leaning forward, your tone dropping just enough to make my stomach flip. "Like you're thinking about something you probably shouldn't say out loud."
