Shinta

The stairs creak as we walk up them, heading to my apartment. Before I open the door, panic washes over me. Did I clean well enough? What will happen if he notices the books on my bookshelf? Did I take out the trash? I grip the door knob for a few extra seconds before turning it. “Pardon the mess,” I say as we enter the living room. I scan the room quickly to make sure nothing is out of place.

“You call this messy? This house is spotless,” Simon replies. I can’t tell if he’s just being nice or if he really thinks my house is clean. 

I set the groceries down on the kitchen counter and start getting them ready for dinner. “Make yourself at home, Simon. Would you like anything to drink?” 

“Sure, what do you have?”

“Sake, wine, water or tea.” I pull out the tokkuri to start heating myself up some sake.

“Oh, sake sounds good!”

  “Perfect! Man after my own heart,” I kid as I boil some hot water, waiting to place the tokkuri in the middle. Because a watched pot never boils, I start to wash the vegetables. 

“You weren’t joking about being an advent reader,” Simon says, standing in front of one of my bookshelves. 

“It’s more of an addiction. There’s two more bookshelves in my room,” I admit, secretly hoping he picks some of the less raunchy books to peek at. Although, most of those I keep in my room. 

“Wow, that’s a lot of books. Have you read all of them?”

“Most but not all of them. Some of them I have read three or four times though.” I put the vegetables on a cutting board and get out my knife, running my thumb across the edge of the blade to make sure it's sharp. 

“Still, that’s impressive. I love to read but I move around too much to have a collection like this,” his solemn voice pinging my heart. 

“You’re always welcome to read some of mine. But most aren't to be read around other people if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, now I’m definitely interested.” I can hear him pilfering through the books. 

A smile can’t help but creep across my face. “I knew you were a connoisseur,” I tease, frying the vegetables and meat in the hot pan. Oil splash onto my hand and it stings although not enough to make me pull away. I place the sake in the now boiling water. “When I saw your book cover I had a feeling you were reading something that the front would give away.”

“I don’t really care if people know what I’m reading. It’s more to be respectful. Kids and stuff like that.”

“Ah, yeah that makes sense.” I pour the stir fry into the bowls over some microwave rice. I carry them to the table before returning with the sake and chopsticks. “Here, dinner is ready. It’s not anything fancy but I hope you like it.”

“Thank you for the food,” he grins. “This looks amazing. I don’t eat home cooked food very often.”

I don’t know what to say to that so I just say my thanks then eat away at my bowl and drink my sake, making sure to pour some for Simon when he runs out. 

“I knew that was going to be good. Where did you learn to cook like that?” Simon asks, leaning up against the couch, still sitting on the floor behind the coffee table. 

“After my parents died, my grandmother took care of me and taught me to cook.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

I can’t help but laugh a little. “How could you know unless I told you. Don’t worry. It’s been so long that I hardly remember them anyway.”

“Still, at least you have your grandmother.”

“For now. She’s in the hospital for some heart problem. They say she’s okay but they want to keep her for a little while to monitor her. She tells me not to worry but it’s hard not to ya know? She raised me… Sorry I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

“Na, you’re good. I’m the one who brought it up anyway,” he says as he stands up. “Are you finished? I’ll take your bowl into the kitchen.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’re my guest!”

“I know but I want to thank you for dinner. The least I can do is some dishes.”

“Ah, okay thank you.” I can’t help but feel a little guilty still. I watch him as he goes back to the kitchen and rinses off the dishes before putting them into the dishwasher. 

“You’re going to burn a hole into the back of my head if you keep that up.”

Heat flushes to my face as I drop my gaze. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” He walks back to the living room carrying the bottle of sake, setting it down on the table before sitting next to me. Closer than he was during dinner time. 

He holds up his glass before making a toast. “Thank you for your food and your hospitality. I am very grateful.”

“To new friendships,” I say back, raising a glass of my own. 

“Aww, just friends? I was hoping for a little more than that.”

My heart skips a beat. “A little more like what?”

“A little more like this,” he replies before fitting his hand to the side of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet, making blood boil in my groin. As quickly as he started, he pulls away. I stare from one eye to the other. Trying to read him.

Fuck it. I grab him by the shirt and pull him back into a kiss. He doesn’t resist at all when my tongue searches his mouth. Deeper we kiss, feverishly running our hands over each other's bodies. Fuck, am I being too overbearing? Too aggressive? I don’t want to scare him off.