After our trip to the aquarium, Dieter insisted on taking me on another date. And Another. And another.

A trip to the local museum. Visits to the cinema. An outdoor play. Short lunch dates in cafes. All these dates have been in public spaces surrounded by people. I’m sure Dieter picked them for me because they are safe, secure, public locations.

They’re so hesitant and accommodating. Every date has been activity-focused with chaste PDA that Dieter badly disguises as “help”. Hand-holding to “stay together” when navigating crowds. A guiding hand on my back while we meandered through the museum’s galleries. An arm slung around my shoulders for “comfort” when watching a horror movie in the darkness of the cinema; although the way Dieter closes their eyes and tightens their hold slightly whenever there’s a gory scene makes me think it’s more for their comfort than mine.

Dieter is overthinking every interaction; I know they’re scared I’m going to just up and leave. But the truth is, even after all that’s happened, no one has made me feel as cared for, desired, and loved as Dieter does. So, while I appreciate the accommodating gestures, I miss the confident affection from before.

Tonight, I told Dieter I wanted to choose what we did for our date. They agreed.

I’ve learnt a lot of things about Dieter over these past few dates.

It turns out they don’t like coffee or sour sweets, both things they would eat only because Cameron liked them. They prefer sweet drinks and chocolate, but only if it’s melted over fruit. They like their steak rare and their chips plain. Prefer nature documentaries and romance movies over action or horror. They also know a lot of random historical facts on weaving and the development of art after the Napoleonic Wars, recounting them in the off-hand way of someone with lived experience.

When they were pretending to be Cameron, movie night was one of the things they insisted on. The dim lights, sharing snacks, and cuddling together under an oversized blanket, all things they seemed to really enjoy.

So, I thought the feeling of … of domestic bliss, might be the key to getting Dieter to relax. To stop being so nervous around me.

The TV is set up with one of last year’s cheesy hallmark romance movies ready to play. The fairy lights that usually come out at the end of the year have been strung up early. Hot chocolates and a sushi platter have been laid out on the coffee table. Four blankets have been tossed over the couch, two to be a soft surface and two to cover us. Everything’s ready.

I’ve decided to dress casually, in a way that hopefully proves I trust Dieter. Comfy shorts and one of Dieter’s t-shirts. They got so excited when they found one of those bamboo t-shirts in a charity shop, trying it on with the cutest little exclamation of “it’s soft”; I later found that t-shirt in my wardrobe. With how much attention Dieter gives to the little details, it must have been on purpose.

When the door opens, I’m waiting by the stairs. Just where I was the first night they arrived. “Welcome home.”

I get the strangest sense of déjà vu as they just stand there, that silvery gaze flicking up and down. Each step they take inside seems to take an age. The door is closed like an afterthought as they cross the hallway. Their hands are always so warm, calloused digits brushing against my arms and running the edge of my sleeve between their thumb and forefinger. 

“What is this?” Dieter’s eyes are big and unblinking, but a smile pulls at their lips.

I feel mine mirror the smile. “It’s movie night,” they don’t fight me when I start to slowly pull them towards the living room, “and date night.”

A strange sort of hissing sigh slips out of them as they sit on the couch. I dart over to turn on the movie, then back to their side. Settling onto the couch is a slightly awkward affair to start with, the short distance between us is back again. Dieter sits as far to the edge as possible.

The cheerful jingle of the opening credits fills the room. The movie starts in typical hallmark fashion, with the main character leaving the big city to go back to their small hometown to handle an inheritance.

Even though I can see that Dieter is leaning towards me, they never shift closer. So I take the initiative, scooching over until I’m pressed against hard muscle that inexplicably turns soft the longer I lean against them. The blankets wrapped around us provide the perfect cocoon of warmth.

The movie is comfortably predictable. So much so, that I don’t mind at all when the conversations are drowned out slightly by the purr rumbling from under my head. The vibration is soothing, and I’m rewarded with a slightly louder sound when I rest one hand on their chest. I feel relaxed. It’s warm, and when their arm finally slips around me, I can’t help the smile that forms on my face.

The movie starts to pick up. The two love interests via for affection and a problem with the inheritance leads to unnecessary drama.

The hot chocolates are empty now, the last lingering sweetness on my tongue starting to dissipate. The movie isn’t holding my attention as much as I thought it would, mind constantly drifting to Dieter.

As if they know I’m thinking about them, they shift in their seat. Dieter mumbles something and my heart flips. My focus immediately diverts from the movie to the man (or close enough) at my side. I sit up, facing them as a shiver runs down my spine.

“What did you say?”

That blank expression is back on Dieter’s face. Their eyes are trained on me with unwavering focus, silver irises glowing in the dim light. I feel the warmth of their arm grow tighter around my shoulders. “I said … I love you.”

That was their real voice.

There’s an expectation in the air; a tension. I can feel it on my skin and see it in their eyes. It’s a weight, like I’ve been handed something heavy but fragile. There’s a decision to be made. It feels like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff or braced at the starting line of a race. My breath quickens, but not from fear.

I know what I’m going to say. The words formed from the light feeling in my heart that blossoms at the feeling of their arm around me. Every syllable crafted from each moment of care. A phrase formed from a blend of trepidation and acceptance. Because of them, because of the memories of the past year, the kind warmth and the cold fear, there’s only one thing I can say.

“I think…” My heart is pounding in my ears. “I love you too.”

There’s a whistle of air as Dieter sucks in a breath. A hand settles on my cheek, warm and real. But they don’t move. Still watching me. Still waiting.

The line is still there.

I could keep it unbroken. Turn my head, rest it on their shoulder, and keep that space between us intact. Stay in this no-man’s land of casual intimacy where it’s safe and predictable, where the pretence is intact.

But I don’t want to. I want more. I want to know more. I want to know them. I want to be loved.

I kiss them.

It’s like a dam breaks. Every memory of every fleeting touch and moment of care feels like a wave pushing me forward.

There’s a hand pulling me closer. Vibration against my lips. I feel like I’m falling, or flying, and I like it.

All too soon it’s over. The need for air pushes me back. My eyes open, when did they close?

Silver. The world is silver. All I see is them. Smile just a little too wide. Bright eyes boring into mine until I’m drowning in silver. It should be terrifying, but it’s not. This is Dieter. I know them.

“Say it again.”

Another touch of warmth ripples through me at the deep almost-growl of their voice. They sound restrained, almost pleading. Dieter’s hand is trembling, I can feel them almost pulling away from me again. They’re giving me an out, even now, but I don’t want to take it.

“I love you.” I lean back in.

The line is broken.