I've been standing in front of the condo’s door for the last ten minutes. It's 9:15 PM now. I checked. Double-checked. So I'm good time-wise. I just… I don't know what to do, what I'm doing.

The last few years have been a pretty simple process. At least, simple enough for me to be able to deal with it. Simple, mindless fucking with no strings-attached (at least from my side.)

The knowledge that I hold power over them, leaving them satisfied and craving for more while I change between people without feeling any connection to them had become my way of life.

Is it unhealthy? Maybe. Am I hurting people? Maybe. But at least I let them all know up front what to expect from me. From then on, it's not up to me when they decide to chase after me.

But with Mira… Fuck, when I say she's not my type, she's not physically. She's small, skinny, yet there's something about her that pulls me toward her like gravity.

And I can't resist it. No matter how hard I try.

Okay, Natalie, just walk in. She'll probably want to talk about what happened earlier. Just brush her off. Go straight to your room. Fuck, why am I panicking?

Taking a deep breath to steel my jumbled nerves, my hand clutches the doorknob and holds it for a few seconds as the coolness from the steel calms me down a little. Turning it, I finally open it and walk in, bracing myself to meet any questions with silence or a brief one-sided response when something else hits me.

The smell. It's tangy and thick, floating into my senses with a certain spiciness.

Mira is standing over the stove in the kitchen, her back turned to me. She turns her head to me when I close the door, her eyes subtly widening a little before a smile spreads across her face.

“Oh hi, you're here!”

I don't say anything. Instead, my gaze flutters over to the dinner table with two places prepped.

“You expecting someone?” I ask with a frown.

“Just you,” she says quietly, taking two bowls from the cabinet and clinking them on the counter. She then sets the pot aside to probably cool off before she walks to me, dressed in gray sweatpants and a pinkish, slightly oversized T-shirt.

“I thought you and I could um… have a meal together.”

I clear my throat when she stops a few feet away from me. I can tell why she's doing this. It's not a coincidence that she prepared a meal for the two of us right after she said she wanted to kiss me a few hours prior.

“Mira, I told you–”

“That we should forget about it. I know. I just thought we could have dinner together, you know?” She takes a few steps forward until she's right in front of me. I look down at her as she slowly takes my hand and squeezes it gently, her touch soft and warm and definitely not fueling the fire of panic inside of me.

I sharply inhale as her eyes take on a begging look, much like a kitten as her teeth tug at her bottom lip. Fuck, she looks so fucking cute. Adorable. Words can't even describe it.

“Okay. I haven't eaten dinner anyway, so might as well,” I say, keeping my voice monotonous.

“Yay!” she squeals, half-dragging me after her as she leads me to the table, as if she's afraid that I'll run away if she lets go (which, actually, isn't an impossible chance).

I can't help but let a smile sneak its way onto my lips at her enthusiasm. Maybe that's why I find her different from others. Because she's always positive no matter what happens. Like–

“I'll bring the food right over!” she interrupts my train of thoughts when I sit down. A few moments later, she's carrying two steaming bowls and sets one in front of me and the other one on her spot across from me. It's a small table for four, one chair on each side, so there's barely any distance between us.

“Chopsticks?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as she lays a pair across my bowl.

“Yeah, do you not know how to use them?”

I shake my head. “No. I prefer just a spoon and fork.”

Her eyes light up. “I can teach you how to use them!”

“Uh…”

“Please, Nat.” She juts out her bottom lip.

I chuckle a little. “Fine.”

“And maybe you can teach me a Russian word in exchange.” A sly smile appears.

I quirk an eyebrow. “Was this the plan?” I sigh. What's the harm? “Maybe I will afterward. No promises though.”

Mira claps her hands in giddiness. “Yay! Okay, so, you want to position your fingers here.” She puts her hand over my right one and places the metal chopsticks in there. “Then you just grip them like this, and–” Guiding me step by step, it takes me a few tries before I can lift out the meat without dropping it. “There! You did it!”

I look at her, a big smile plastered on her face. A smile that reaches her eyes, both lighting up like the sun. I watch her half-skip to her chair across from me and sit, scraping it closer to the table.

“Thanks,” I finally say, the word feeling… right this time.

But I say it softly, so low that I don't know if she heard me or not. We both eat in silence for a while, with me needing several attempts to bring the food to my mouth with the damned chopsticks.

“So um…” Mira breaks the silence, keeping her eyes on her bowl. “About what I said earlier.”

I stop chewing and swallow the rest of the food in my mouth instead. “What happened to not talking about it?”

“I know. I just… I don't think it's something we can just ignore.”

“Of course it is. “

“Maybe it's easy for you to say, but…” She takes a deep breath, not lifting her gaze. “I want to say… I'm sorry.”

Those two words take me by surprise. They're not what I expected to hear. “Sorry for what?”

“For… coming on to you, I guess, if that's how it's called. Um…” She glances up at me. “I'm sorry.”

Tilting my head to the side, I observe her. Her fingers grasp at the chopsticks while I can feel her foot tapping restlessly against the floor. I've learned that it's a sign of her being nervous, anxious, and I know I'm only making it worse with my ongoing silence.

Even though all I want to do is accept her apology and move on, I find another part of myself, one that has been stomped upon and torn into pieces, asking me to just give this a chance. To heed my sister's advice. To talk with Mira.

“I had a talk earlier with my sister. She identifies herself in the same spectrum as you.” I inhale and exhale. “When you told me you wanted to kiss me, you told me that I'm… complex and interesting to you? What did you mean exactly? Why me? Even when I've been nothing but bad to you?”

The surprised look on her face tells me that she didn't expect me to steer the conversation into this direction. But almost immediately, it's replaced by relief and eagerness, sort of.

“Um, well…” Her eyes dart around the room, as if looking for any hidden cameras that I can only assume her fucking mother is capable of placing. “You haven't actually been bad! You helped me out the other day and… I um…”

She chews on her bottom lip in thought. “You being so grumpy all the time–” excuse me. “-- made me wonder what is it about you that makes you like that? Like, obviously you have this charm and people like it, but why? I feel like you have this soft, squishy interior, and I just want to see it bloom to life like a pretty flower. You know?”

At my furrowed eyebrows, she continues. “I didn't want to kiss you because of how you look, which is, like, very hot.” Her face flushes a deeper shade of pink. “Your grumpiness is amusing, and sure, some of your words do kinda hurt me, but I feel like that's a good balance , one that I need, and you're someone who intrigues me unlike anyone else.”

“So you wanted to kiss me because I'm… interesting?”

“I guess, if you put it that way, but there's so much more, and I want to know more about you, Natalie.”

Someone… interested in me aside from my looks or sex skills, which are amazing by the way from the lack of complaints.

But am I ready for this type of… thing? Is she ready for this? I've already been hurt twice. Maybe the third time can send me spiraling again, but I don't want her to experience what I went through.

But what if I really, really try? What if she's… worth it? What if we're… both worth it?

I get up from my chair. “I need to show you something,” I tell Mira, gesturing for her to follow me.

“Can it wait? The food will get cold!”

I stifle a laugh. “Food is more important than me showing you something? I'm offended.” She blinks in horror before realizing my sarcasm and, with a flustered face, follows me to my bedroom.

I walk to one of my drawers and take out a small, flat rectangular black box with a lock. Placing it on my bed, I take out my keys and open it, the hood flipping open with a click. I grab the rolled up paper among other stuff and spread it out on the covers.

Mira softly gasps as a design and my plans of my dream dance studio appear on the paper. All my ideas, building constructions, everything.

“This… is what I've been trying to get my whole life,” I say. We both stand side by side, looking at the graphics. “I've been with three roommates in the past in an attempt to save up money for the dance studio. And each time, I got involved with them. Purely sexual from my side. And from theirs too, at the beginning, before they started to develop feelings and I have to move out. After the last time, I promised myself to never allow that to happen again.”

I turn to Mira, who looks up at me. “That's why I accepted the roommate offer from you. Living rent free, despite with the girl who burned my hand, was my ticket to getting my dream come true. And I'm not going to jeopardize it by letting you kiss me, or anything like that.”

Disappointment and hurt floods her face. “I… I understand, but–”

“You didn't let me finish,” I cut her off. This is it. After I say this, there will be no point of return. But what's life without taking risks? “You are … unlike anyone I've ever met. And I mean anyone. You're always so… happy and optimistic about everything. Your smile is like the sun, shining into my dark soul. And each attempt of yours to light up a little bit of my heart makes life a little easier to handle.”

I step closer to her and, raising my hand, brush away a few loose strands from her eyes which dart wildly across my face. “That's why I'm willing to try this sort of relationship out. I can't guarantee I won't sleep with other people during this time, but if you're not okay with it, I can try to stop. I would like us to both get to know each other first, and if you will still like me and I you, then, maybe,we can take things to the next level.”

My gaze flutters down to her mouth. “And truth be told, I very much want to kiss you. I've imagined how you would taste for some time.”

“You have?” she breathes out, an ever darker red conquering her cheeks.

I smirk. “Yes, fruit tart. But I won't. Not until you're sure you're ready, when you're sure you connect with all of me, when I'm sure I can be with you without breaking your heart. Because that's the last thing I want.”

She bites her lip, making me wish that I was the one who was doing that. “So… friends then?” she asks.

I smile. “Friends.”

Mira beams and, to my shock, wraps her arms around me and squeezes me into a hug with my hands hanging stiffly at my sides. “I'm so happy,” she says, her voice muffled against my chest.

This time, instead of pulling away, I return her embrace.

And it feels so right.