We return to the apartment, and the door slams shut behind us with a dull thud, as if emphasizing the tension hanging in the air. Katrin silently makes her way to the kitchen. Her steps are quick and sharp, each one beating out the rhythm of her irritation. She grabs a bottle of wine from the shelf, and the glass clinks sharply against the edge of the table as she sets it down. Her fingers grip the neck so tightly that her knuckles turn white. She pours herself a glass, and the ruby liquid splashes into the glass, as if reflecting the storm raging inside her. Katrin brings the glass to her lips and takes a large sip, never taking her eyes off me. Something wild and untamed flickers in her gaze. A shiver runs down my spine. She's clearly waiting for me to launch into a lecture about the dangers of alcohol, but I decide not to provoke her further.
"I hope you're not going to forbid me this?" she mutters defiantly, her voice laced with bitterness she doesn't even try to hide.
"Today's fine. You've been a good girl. You've earned it," I tease, deliberately goading her. My words are playful, but inside, I can feel the tension between us building, like a storm about to break. Rebel Girl just narrows her eyes.
"You do realize I'm in such a state that I might literally bite you soon?"
"Oh, don't pout. It doesn't suit you," I shoot back, grinning, but she's already too close.
Katrin steps closer, her eyes gleaming like those of an enraged cat. She takes my hand and bites it—hard. Damn, it hurts like hell, but I clench my teeth, trying not to show it, though my face probably betrays my true feelings. Katrin looks at me, seemingly feeling guilty. She glances at the bite mark and, unexpectedly, runs her tongue over it. Her lips are soft, and the warm touch of her tongue sends a strange, almost pleasant shiver through me, making me forget the pain for a moment.
"I wasn't trying to hurt you by making you change your wardrobe," I say quietly. "I just want you to try something new for a couple of weeks. After that, you can keep wearing some of your old things if you want. If not, we can return them. They have a month-long return policy," I explain, trying to sound as gentle as possible. My words are soft, almost a whisper, as if I'm afraid to disturb the fragile balance between us. Rebel Girl freezes, staring into my eyes.
"Sorry for biting you," she whispers.
Her eyes are filled with remorse, but there's something else there too—something I can't quite place. But I don't need her apology. I need to feel her. I lean in and, without thinking, capture her lips. I kiss her slowly and gently, as if trying to soothe her, to distract her from all the words and tension hanging in the air. My lips brush against hers with a tenderness I can't put into words. I feel her body tense at first, but gradually it softens, relaxes. Her hands, which had been clenched into fists, open, and she wraps her arms around me, as if, in response to my kiss, she too has decided to surrender to the moment.
Her lips meet mine with the same tenderness, and Katrin forgets her anger, her doubts. In that moment, there's nothing between us but the kiss. I feel her heart begin to beat in sync with mine, and perhaps that's the best thing I could feel right then.
When we finally pull apart, she looks at me with eyes full of mixed emotions—embarrassment, tenderness, and something else I can't quite name. In those eyes flickers a vulnerability she rarely shows, and it touches me in a way I hadn't expected.
"So… do you still want me to wear those dresses?" Her voice is quiet, uncertain, but the sharpness from before is gone.
"Only if you want to," I reply with a smile. "But I hope you'll at least give it a try."
She sighs, and I notice a spark of interest flicker in her eyes.
"Alright, I'll try."
At that moment, I feel my heart fill with warmth. It's a small step, but I know it's the beginning of something new. I'm ready to walk this path with her, no matter how difficult it might be. Our feelings, however tangled they are, are worth fighting for.
"So, what were we talking about?" Katrine tilts her head slightly, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief, as if she's playing with me like a cat with a mouse. My heart skips a beat. She clearly hasn't forgotten our conversation. Her gaze is sly, and I know she's gearing up for another verbal sparring match.
"About how we have a date tomorrow," I say, trying to sound confident, though inside I'm a bundle of nerves.
"Oh?" She looks at me skeptically, her eyebrows raised and her lips curling into a faint smirk. It makes me feel slightly unsure. "And what unbearably cute place are you taking me to?"
"We're going to a theater performance," I say, catching her off guard. I try to keep a straight face, but inside I'm trembling with anticipation.
Katrin's reaction is immediate and utterly unforgettable. She bursts into laughter—loud, genuine laughter, as if I've just told her the funniest joke in the world. She even clutches her stomach, tears streaming from her eyes. I stand there, my face burning with embarrassment, but it's also nice to see her so joyful and alive.
"Oh, you're something else. You really got me," she manages to say between laughs, wiping tears from her eyes. Her voice trembles with amusement, and her face is so genuinely pleased that I can't help but smile back. Still, there's a hint of hurt lingering in my chest. I know her laughter isn't meant to mock me, but I can't shake the feeling that she's underestimating me.
"I wasn't joking. I already bought the tickets online, and we're going tomorrow," I say firmly, trying to regain my seriousness. I want her to understand that this isn't just some whim. It's important—a significant step I've been thinking about but couldn't quite articulate.
"Are you serious right now?" Her laughter fades, and she looks at me with clear disbelief, her eyebrows skeptically raised.
"Yes, I'm serious," I nod.
"Have you lost your mind? What theater?" She still can't believe it.
"The one near our institute," I say, hoping she'll finally grasp the seriousness of my intentions.
"Why? Why not just go to a café or a restaurant? Or, if you're so set on sitting in a chair, let's go to the movies. See? That's a theater too, but with films," she speaks quickly, nervously, as if searching for an alternative. I can hear the irritation in her voice, but also a hint of confusion.
"I've always dreamed of going to the theater, and now there's an opportunity," I admit, feeling my heart beat a little faster. This isn't just a desire—it's one of those few dreams I've been putting off.
Her expression changes. She steps closer and places her hands on my neck. Her fingers gently squeeze, and I feel the warmth of her touch, though she still doesn't fully understand my motivation. But something in her gaze softens.
"So, this is your dream?" Her voice is gentler now, carrying a note of care that wasn't there before. I see her eyes soften, and she tilts her head slightly, as if trying to understand me better.
"Yes," I say, sincerely hoping she'll feel how much this means to me.
"Alright, we'll go to your theater, my dreamer," she says, her voice laced with irony but also a touch of tenderness.
I feel so warm inside that I want to run and do everything to make this day perfect. I smile, feeling joy spread through me.
"Thank you," I whisper, pulling her into a hug. I feel her body press against mine, and suddenly all my doubts vanish. We just stand there, and I feel a peace I've never known before. Katrine smirks, but there's something else in her eyes—something I can definitely call interest.
"Just so you know, if I get bored, I'll hold it against you," she says with a slight wink, and I know her agreement means more than just a simple "okay."
"Deal," I say, now certain that this day will become something meaningful for both of us.
We stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, and I can feel her breath merging with mine, as if the entire world has narrowed down to this single moment. In that instant, I realize that despite all her jokes and sarcasm, she truly cares about me. And I'm ready to do everything to make this evening at the theater something truly unforgettable for us. I know that every step we take together will mean more than just a plan for the night.
I'm incredibly happy, and that happiness overflows within me, like bright sunlight filling every cell of my body. Overwhelmed by the feeling, I can't resist kissing her again, trying to convey all the emotions that are bursting inside me. This kiss isn't just a gesture—it's a confession, a promise, as if I've finally found my place beside her.
This time, the kiss isn't light and fleeting like before. It's deeper, more sensual, filled with the raw emotions we've both been holding back for so long. Katrine responds eagerly, her lips soft and warm, her breath mingling with mine, creating a sense of complete unity.
Kissing has become something ordinary for us, but it never loses its magic. I can't imagine how I'd live without it every day. Not seeing her feels like a slow death to me. It doesn't mean I'd die physically, but inside, I would surely wither without my girl. She has become my air, my light, my purpose.
I'm kissing my girlfriend. Yes, now I can officially say everywhere that she's my girlfriend, and it fills me with pride and confidence, as if I've gained something priceless—something that gives my life meaning and color.
The kiss grows deeper, more sensual, filled with the genuine emotions we've been suppressing for so long. And even though we've long since learned how to exchange kisses, each one remains as magical as the first. I feel her lips soften, how she melts into the kiss, responding with the same passion.
Reluctantly, I pull away from those enticing lips.
"What time does it start?"
"At six in the evening," I say, trying to sound confident, though inside I'm still a mix of excitement and happiness.
"A bit early for my taste," Katrine drawls, raising an eyebrow, but there's no wariness in her eyes anymore—just playfulness and… trust.
"Well, your bars open at eight, and parties start at ten," I counter, smiling.
I love how we can tease each other. In these little jabs, perhaps, lies the essence of our relationship: liveliness, mutual respect, and playfulness.
"True. And then what?" Her interest is obvious now, and I catch a note of anticipation in her voice, as if she's starting to warm up to the idea.
"The performance will last about an hour and a half, with short breaks, and then we can take a walk along the embankment," I suggest, hoping she'll like that idea too. I imagine us walking by the water, hand in hand, under the glow of streetlights, and the thought makes my heart beat faster.
"Alright, I'm in," she finally surrenders to her fate, and I feel my heart fill with joy. Now there's no doubt: she isn't just accepting it—she truly trusts me.
Our bond has grown stronger, and with every step, every glance, and every kiss, we're creating a new world between us—unique, ours alone. And I know I want to be by her side always, filling every moment with our laughter, our tenderness, and our love.