For our dinner date, I decided to dress modestly. Not that I owned anything fancy but after checking Linda's scintillating dress selection, I was content with mine.

"You'll look fab." Linda stood near my door, holding her pink and red-colored vanity case.

Once I managed to lock myself in a simple black dress with straps tinier than noodles, she entered and shoved me into a revolving chair, draping a towel over my shoulder.

"Am I getting a haircut?" I asked, looking at the way I was wrapped in protection.

Either that or Linda was a messy makeup artist. Since the time she experimented on my face for the gala, I couldn't believe the talent this woman possessed which wasn't about cooking.

Today's prep was her two minutes to fame. Without any further delay, Linda tipped my eyelids shut. Being perched on the chair, I felt cold from whatever soft, damp thing she was plastering over my face. Whenever I cringed my face, she would click her tongue, restricting me from doing it any further.

After a century passed and I was old and grey, Linda pulled the towel from around me, exposing me to the mirror.

"Open your eyes slowly. The liner is still wet," she said, tapping my shoulder.

I was prepared for the worst. As my heavy eyelids fluttered open, I stared at the girl who watched me with amusement from the reflection. With big doe eyes to a dewy face and a nose that suddenly seemed narrower than usual, I couldn't help adore myself. My red painted lips curled up and the soft shimmer that was nowhere visible before, suddenly popped up to brighten me.

"OMG, I look like a model," I cried, almost ready to break into tears when Linda rattled me, tipping my chin up.

"Don't smudge my masterpiece, hon. Now go, entice your boyfriend," she said, winking.

It was barely a second later then the doorbell rang. I hopped out of my room, springs attached to my feet.

On the opposite side of the door, Philip stood with a bouquet of daisies.

I scanned him from top to bottom. The royal blue suit matched with his whitish tone and the maroon pocket square was only the tip of the iceberg that hit and sank my ship of words.

"You look..." I tried but his gaze remained glued nearby. Words refused to escape.

"Here," he lent out the flowers from his hold and gave a soft smile, lending his hand. "Are you ready darling?"

"Oh yes." I tossed the bouquet towards Linda who pounced on it mid-air like a bridesmaid. "Thank you for the flowers."

After I slid into my heels and slung my - well Linda's clutch, we walked out.

"You kids have fun." Like a mother sending her daughter away on a prom night, Linda stood at the door and waved. Philip gushed before waiving at the direction her voice emanated from.

Luke drove us to the restaurant which wasn't fancy. Yet, it was crowded.

"Next time I'll do better," Luke said, turning off the ignition and waited for us to exit.

"What next time?" My forehead cringed as I waited for him to answer. Luke's head stooped low and he looked away.

Philip coiled his hand into mine as we walked out. For my 'what did Luke meant' question, he simply nodded sidewise.

The host showed us to our table and my question was lost in the transit. I pulled my chair nearer to Philip's, suddenly feeling intimidated by nothing.

"Hey, I forgot to tell you earlier but you look devilishly handsome," I whispered, intertwining our fingers together. "There are so many things I'm planning on doing tonight that you would be sore tomorrow and the next day and the next."

Normally something like this would make Philip chock on air and call me darling in a tone that would set my wild thoughts on fire. Today, he seemed like a man who consumed flu sedatives and was numb to do or say anything.

"Are you okay?" I gave a gentle squeeze to his palm for which he nodded and leaned closer.

"I wanted this to be perfect but Luke-"

"What did poor Luke do?" I tittered, thinking about bulky Luke's fallen expression in the car.

Philip's eyes remained on me but his hand slid off my hold. "It's not funny. I wanted to book a particular place, a particular table and now..."

Ohh. So my grumpy baby was mad because he couldn't get his favorite place booked in time. I couldn't blame Luke or him. In this city, restaurants were booked long in advance. Only if one knew the right people, could a last-minute table be arranged.

Somehow, I was able to feel what Philip underwent. Perfection was a word I could use for the ways he conducted his affairs. Anything less than that made him a sulking baby.

"Listen, this place is awesome."

It really was. The room had square tables and small shot glasses lit with candles with the overall area dimly lit as opposed to our restaurant where the lights were a tad brighter. Also, I was in the company of the man whose chiseled jaw was emphasized further under the candlelight to a point where I felt I would be leaving a wet patch on my chair.

"Yeah, whatever," Philip tossed the napkin over his lap. "Great that you liked it."

"Hey," I pulled his elbow to focus on my voice. "The place you wanted to take me, whom did you go out with?"

I was almost sure of the answer but I was on a mission to make Philip feel better.

"My...friend..."

"Come on." My fingers nibbled at his wrist. "We're too grown up to hide about our past. Tell me..."

"Fine, my girlfriend. Ex to be precise." Philip changed his straightened seating position, leaning in. "That place had a revolving rooftop and the waiter staff knew me. I had one particular seating wherein the world around and below would come to view in a way like you were walking on a skywalk."

"Okay, that sounds fancy."

"I know. And that's why-"

"I love you, Philip." My emotions boiled up to the surface, watching him feel diminished in not getting me the best date place. More than anything, I was hit with the realization that he was mine. Philip's upcoming explanation diffused, a smile appeared on his face. "You know what's fancy about this place? It would be our first date place. We would remember this place where you entered like a grumpy grumperson and left happily."

"Is it really fancy, darling? I didn't believe Luke when he said that." Philip turned to his sides like he was evaluating the place.

"Yes, it's fancy and the best part is, we still are seated near a window overlooking the street. And you know what's fancy about the streets?"

"What it?" he chuckled.

"Nothing. Nothing is fancy about the street which means my eyes will be glued to you and not on the roof or the skywalk or the dangers associated with sitting at a place which can plummet into the ground at any moment."

With both his hands on his heaving chest, Philip burst out laughing. He tapped the table like it was his office and not a restaurant. The guests on other tables turned and stared at us. After a moment of embarrassment, I too giggled as he simmered down, gulping water and taking long breaths to oxygenate his lungs.

"You should never be a food critic, darling. Only you can come up with such a scary description for a fancy place."

"Not my problem if someone decided to keep a restaurant in the air. People do have fear of heights." I displayed my full set of teeth with the pleasure of knowing I brought him back to his senses.

"May I take your order," the waiter stood near the table and towered over us.

"Oh, sorry we didn't have time to decide," I said. The human tower that was our waiter gave a tight nod and walked away.

"Philip," I looked over to him. He had headsets plugged into his ears and nodding at something as it played on his phone.

He turned his screen towards me, the automated voice on it reading him the menu. Then came another realization. I was so casually checking the menu without any heed to Philip's impairment.

Bad girlfriend. Those words reared their head.

Removing a piece of headphones, Philip looked up. "Can I take the liberty of ordering for you?"

"Order away," I swung my hand and he went back to his listening routine as I watched over to the street that bustled with traffic.

"Sweety," a whisper made me turn. Our tall waiter leaned closer to my ears. "Are you having a bad date?" Another set of whispery words hit me.

My shoulders turned to address him, gesturing him to lean closer. "Why would you assume that?"

"Because your date's listening to music than talk to you." He glanced at Philip before turning his head to me.

"Actually," Philip tossed the phone on the table and the headphone plunged into an empty plate. "Her date is listening to the audible menu so he can order for her."

Philip loosening his tie which seemed to be choking him. I could feel the room falling silent and the otherwise cozy warmth radiating from Philip turning up.

"Phil, it's okay. He was just joking," I tried to defend the waiter who although seemed to hold it together, was trembling from where I stood. "Let it go, baby."

"I am so sorry sir, I just meant-"

"You meant what you saw. That a man like me was ignoring the date and listening to songs. You didn't think for a second that there could stand a chance that this man," he pointed at himself. "...this very man might have issues with the menu for reading and hence-"

"Sir, may I know what's the problem?" A man with a nametag - Jeff and designation - manager rushed to calm the storm that brewed on our table. I stood up from my place, trying hard to diffuse the situation. The avalanche was already set in motion.

"We are leaving," Philip lent his hand and I, without a second thought and a gesture of support held it. "Next time, please don't treat customers like this."

"But sir, you didn't ask for the hearing menu," the tall waiter rightfully defended himself while being patted into place by his boss. "I just..."

I could feel Philip's steps sliding back, for one more sparring round. Clutching his palm and sliding my arm around it, I tugged at it gently.

"Not now, Philip. Everyone's watching," I whispered, letting out a fake smile for the other customers, all of whom had dropped their cutlery and watching the drama unfold. For them, I waved while bowing my head as if they were some kind of royals. "Please continue, apologies for the..."

I was already driven halfway outside the restaurant by the time I barely finished the first half of the sentence.

Philip didn't bother calling Luke. He booked an Uber and got us back to his apartment. Throughout the drive, he remained calm, only vigorously rubbing into his knuckles. I wanted him to be calm completely before conducting a round of rational talk.

Nevertheless, we returned from a date, famished and remorseful.

Philip banged shut the main door before tossing his phone and wallet on the table, both of which somersaulted and hugged the floor.

"Phil," I called out before placing a hand on his shoulder which was tossed away as if my touch burned him. "What happened? Why are you agitated? It's okay. We can have another date."

His hand swam into his neatly gelled hair, ruffling it up. With a grunt which confirmed his current state of mind, I moved back.

"You know how long I wanted this?" His finger danced between us. "This date, for you and me. How long I wanted to treat you the way anyone should ever treat you. Nothing less than a royalty."

"Phil," I moved closer to hold him while his words washed over me. Royalty. Not that I didn't want that but this was the first time Philip was about to narrate, how he felt. Sure, we had talked about feelings and our relationship but this lash of emotions to get everything perfect for me was the first. "Don't think about it as a bad date. I'm really moved that you wanted everything perfect."

"Before I screwed it up, isn't it?" he looked up as he plopped on a chair, falling back into the gap between his hands.

"No, you didn't screw it up. For all, you know-"

"For all I know you are regretting dating me. A visually impaired man."

Although his frustration was quite understandable, what I couldn't bear was the assumption he held. Philip was pulled across the borders of self-pity and negativity, its aftermath raining over me.

"You are putting words in my mouth, Phil. I don't regret dating you. In fact, I'm glad that we had this. Because now I know how much you value me. And us." I fell to my knees, running the back of my fingers over his jawline and into his hair. Straddling over him, I pushed him back into a lean. "You love me and that's all I really want."

"I don't," he whispered.

"What? What do you mean you don't?"

Pulling me off his body, Philip held me back while my legs found grounding. My breath paced up while worst-case scenarios ran up in my head. What did he mean?

"I wanted to see you, Daisy. I wanted to literally see how you looked in your dress and how you blushed whenever I complimented you. But I couldn't ask you that. It sounded pathetic in my mind. And I didn't want Luke to leer over you even if I had the option of him describing you."

My heart slowed its beating, resonating with his sadness. With tears rushing to take its designated place, I tried holding Philip's hand but he moved back again.

"I'm wearing a black dress and Linda did my makeup-"

"Stop," he ruffled up his hair completely. Strand of it fell over his forehead, his jaws twitched. He tossed his jacket with such intensity, its draft caught up with me, fluttering my soft fringes. "Stop with this describing stuff. Stop with this...this is how it looks part. I'm telling you what I wanted and there's nothing you can do about it." Pacing around the place, Philip grunted, holding his hands on both sides. "Nothing you can do, Daisy."

Darling was a term of endearment Philip had started. But today, he was being formal, keeping me at bay. By not letting me help him, he was hurting us both.

"Philip," I was determined to make my stand.

I had to tell him it wasn't his vision I was in love with. It was him. The way he made me feel alive, exhilarated. It was his behavior, kind and sophisticated and the man he was in its entirety. I wanted to tell him that no matter what, I would always cherish him for the way he is and not the way he was. I wouldn't let an impairment come between us.

But Philip seemed to have his thoughts stuck in limbo. He opened the door and stood in silence.

"You want me to leave?" I asked, tearing up on the inside but holding onto my words harder, tighter to restrain from crying.

"Yes. Let me think things through. I want some space...for my..." he looked away, sighing. "Luke will drop you home."

Philip's face never met me as I crossed to the other side. He held his head lower as if he could see me but didn't want to. As if seeing me would resolve his conflict.

I called for the elevator. With great pain, I turned around to face his door, only to see it shut.

As the doors of the metal box chimed open, I held it on the sides, contemplating my next step.

Should I break down his door and make him talk or should I leave?

I turned towards Philip's apartment door, shutting my eyes closed before walking into the elevator.

Against my better judgment and my gut's indications, I was letting him have his space.

~

So their first fight, huh...

Do you think Philip is being unreasonable? Do you think this 'need for space' is about something else altoghether?

What do you think, Philip might do next? And what about Daisy?

Comment and let me know...