REVERIE (f/f / love triangle / romance/erotica)

Chapter 5:

"If you can't give a good opinion, keep the meows to yourself," I told Oscar, though I was mostly joking. I supposed I was a crazy cat lady for speaking to him like another person. He meowed again in exasperation, the little ball on his collar jingling. He was as tired of me as I was. Perhaps more.

I pulled the wardrobe back open and began ransacking it, pulling little black dresses off of hangers and grabbing a handful of lacy red options of thongs before throwing them in the air.

"Oscarrrr!" I bellowed, waiting for his vexed response. I received it immediately, almost as though he bellowed back, and it gave me a grain of consolation. I smiled at him sitting patiently under a tight fitted black dress and gently pulled it off of him. "Finally, thank you," I added facetiously, and pulled it over my head. I felt as though I needed some Amelia confidence today and decided against wearing a bra, though I didn't need one regardless, because free the nipple, right? I looked at myself in the mirror while Oscar gave me a series of rusty meows of approval. I grinned at him. "Yes." I spun around, still looking in the mirror. "Yes I think this is the one."

——-

I immediately regretted the black heels I had picked out as they were killing my feet and I could barely walk in them. They were stiletto, and so thin at the heel I was surprised I hadn't snapped them yet. I wasn't sure whose idea it was to dress so tantalizingly on a first date, but I figured if I hadn't made a great first impression, I'd at least make a lasting one.

I was the first to arrive, the hostess told me, and I stepped inside the fancy steak house like a baby giraffe on ice skates, my nerves starting to work up. If she didn't show, I didn't know what I'd do in a place so nice. I guessed I would eat some steak, but damn, doing that alone seemed humiliating. I wasn't even the biggest fan of fancy meat, but it was the nicest place I knew of that didn't also require a few days' notice reservation.

The hostess guided me towards a dimly lit table, with a center rose and a real tea candle next to it that she lit immediately. A wine menu made its way into my hands from a waitress who showed before I even sat, and I noticed how my hands shook as I took it. I shook the same hand trying to ward the anxiety off and the waitress looked insulted by this. I looked from her to my hand and felt embarrassed to a degree as she must have thought I was a germaphobe, or worse, that I was just an asshole.

"Good evening," she said in answer to my awkwardness. "Do you need time to survey the wine list? Or would you like a food menu to occupy your time first?"

I cursed myself for being so problematic, which was profound in itself.

"Just water for now, I'm waiting on one, and then I'll look at the wine menu," I said, putting on my best smile. She seemed disinterested in my own warmer reception, and nodded her head before walking away. I sighed, my shoulders slumping a tinge.

Before I could wallow, a shadow grew next to me as someone else was walking my way. Was I already being kicked out? The thoughts seized me like a viper.

"Lex?" Hazel's voice brought my shoulders right back to where they ought to be, and I struggled on whether to get up and give her a hug, or to humbly keep my ass where it was placed. I shot for the former and stood, scooting my chair back with a screech. It felt like everyone in the restaurant was suddenly quiet and staring and I again caught myself in an uncomfortable position just minutes after the first one. Or was it the second? Third? I pulled myself together, ignoring the roaring in my brain that made the silence louder, and when I opened my arms just a hair, she enveloped me. The rush of her scent sent me, and the feel of her embrace was a calming balm to my worries. I noticed then that the restaurant had paid no mind to what I thought was a disturbance.