Only You

Chapter 19

Elora

Alexey doesn't bring up the fiasco from three nights ago and neither do I. We keep a polite stream of conversation going in a manner that reminds me of our first date. I don't mind. Sure, it's a step back in the sense of how tense or unfamiliar we are but I prefer this to having an uncomfortable talk.

"Remember when you asked me about my job? I realized I haven't asked you back," Alexey says.

"I'm not done with school yet so I don't have a real job," I say. "I've mentioned that I like to take pictures, right? Well, I post some of them on Instagram or sell them online."

"That sounds amazing, turning passion into profession. Is that how you can afford our dates?" he asks. He seems genuinely interested, his attention fully on me and his fork still hovering in the air between him and his food. I can already feel a blush incoming.

This is another topic I don't often talk about. Sure, my sisters and friends know and sometimes joke and talk about it but not often. I doubt my parents know how I make my money or that I like photography at all. They insist on paying me a sum every month as they do for my sisters, saying that as long as we're in school, we don't have to worry about a job.

They won't listen to my protests so I've resorted to saving everything they give me in a separate bank account. That way I can pay them back eventually.

"It is," I confirm, smiling when he blows out a breath.

"That's really impressive. Can I see?" he asks, setting his fork back down. Again, I confirm, handing him my phone so he can take a look at my posts while I study his reaction closely. His eyebrows gradually move further up on his forehead and his eyes flick up to me every once in a while. Finally, he hands me my phone back, seeming stunned.

"They're incredible. I mean, I'm no professional judge but even I can tell that you're talented as hell. The way you play with the light," he breaks off, shaking his head. "And whose portraits! Like, damn, Sunshine." I blush furiously now, pride blooming in my chest at the sincere glint in his eyes.

"You're flattering me," I say, speaking clearly with an effort.

"I'm honest," he insists, toning down his enthusiasm and lowering his voice. "I'm not the best with words so don't laugh at me but your pictures somehow communicate so many feelings that even I can feel them. I guess that's what people mean when they talk about the importance of art." I laugh but he shakes his head.

"I'm serious. No picture of a landscape has ever filled me with this kind of longing, sweet but painful. Foreign. And your most recent one? All we can see is her back and her hair but I can tell she's sad. Anguished. You made that happen. That's talent."

I swallow and nod, speechless and honestly, burning up. It's a mixed sensation that I don't know how to judge but one thing I know for sure; my food has gotten a hell of a lot less interesting and I wish we were somewhere more private. Like the hotel room.

As if reading my thoughts, Alexey smirks, slowly tilting his head. "You're not used to praise?" he guesses. I shake my head. "But you like it," he goes on. I nod, taking a sip of my white wine in hopes to cool off a little. My date chuckles, turning more into his playfully cocky side.

His knee brushes against my leg beneath the table, the contact searing through the layers of my skin. I swallow again and look around, feeling as if we were doing something forbidden despite his leg touching mine being fairly innocent.

"Am I making you uncomfortable? Tell me if I'm crossing a line." I shake my head, glad for the dim lighting in the room since the other couples here probably can't see my blush and guilty expression. Not that anyone is paying any attention to us anyways.

Alexey's foot nudges mine below the table, urging them further apart just enough so his leg can rest between mine. I comply, fisting the tablecloth on the edge of the table. Has the room gotten hotter? It feels like there's no air left whatsoever.

My skin is buzzing with awareness, the fabric of my date's pants brushing against my exposed skin. It's heady, my head spinning.

"Your food is getting cold," he tells me casually as he takes a bite of his pasta. Again, I envy his control. I've had countless lessons about behavior and manners but this man seems to make me forget all of them in a matter of seconds. Years of drilling rules and self-control into me only for me to be a flustered mess nonetheless.

"I'm not hungry," I breathe, my voice nearly lost in the short distance between us. Finally, I get the slightest of reactions from Alexey. A flash in his eyes, heat blazing in them as he cocks his head.

"No?" he asks. I shake my head. "Want me to order the bill?" his voice seems different now. A little deeper maybe. Huskier.

"What about the food?" I ask, still having enough of a mind to know I don't want to waste anything I ordered.

"Get it to go?" Alexey offers. "We can eat it later," he adds, and despite knowing that won't happen- that as soon as we're in our room, we won't want to eat and after that, Alexey won't stick around to finish his food, I nod. Maybe it's hope, maybe it's my need to touch him right now. Either way, I know I couldn't stomach much of my food now anyways.

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They're eager... hope so are y'all

Next chapter is cute, y'all should be excited:))