each and every moment + h.s.

eventually

"Harry, I have no idea what half of this, and what I do recognize, I know I do not want." This place is incredibly fancy, I hope he picked this for the hundreds of phot ops, not the food.

"There's something on here I think you'll like, mind if I surprise you?"

"Not at all," I say straying from normality, and I hope it isn't misinterpreted. Other than a single surprise I do not want to take any risks.

"So how was work?," he says, breaking the short yet uncomfortable silence.

"It was great, the couple I shot for was very cooperative and photogenic, and polite, too. You know how mean moms can ruin my day."

"Oh, I dread when that happens. I don't know if I've told you, but I'm really happy that you chose your career because of a passion, not many get that chance. Also I always love the work you do and how well it turns out every time. I'm so proud of you."

"You keep making me think you're going to propose," stating my reasoning for the reappearing tears.

He hesitates, to think of the right the thing to say. "I.. I am just not ready yet."

"I know, I really do. But it's felt like we've know each other our entire lives. I don't know. I just.. You know what, nevermind, I want to have a good time tonight."

"It will happen, I promise. But not now. There's so much we still have to think about."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You are not wrong for wanting that, I want it too. I'd be worried if you weren't upset about this, because it wouldn't mean much to you. It's a sensitive topic. But let's not think about it right now. I want you to have a good time."

Seconds after he finishes melting my heart, the waiter- Ezra, I realize his name is- takes our order. When he walks away, I have no idea what I should do. He sees my fidgeting and tells me to relax, drink some water.

"Sorry, I'm still thinking about-"

"I know, it's okay. We'll get home and have tea, if that helps."

"That's a fantastic idea."

"Chamomile with honey?"

"You know me so well."

"I sort of live with you."

"'Sort of'?" It feels nice not to think of what you can't have, to pretend the problem doesn't exist.