Tell Me Lies (COMPLETED)

Date Night

Dakarai

The sound of her laughter was enough to chase away the stress of the day. Zaire was seated across from me, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. The café was cozy, dimly lit with a faint hum of jazz playing in the background. Outside, rain pattered softly against the windows, but inside, everything felt warm and right.

"You're staring," she teased, raising a perfectly arched brow.

"I can't help it," I replied, leaning forward. "You're gorgeous, and I'm lucky."

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks lifted with a shy smile. Moments like these made me wonder how I'd managed to reconnect with someone like her. Zaire was brilliant, passionate, and when she looked at me, it felt like she saw every part of me and accepted it.

The waiter arrived with our food, breaking the moment. As the plates were set down, I couldn't help but grin. Zaire had ordered her usual: pasta drowned in a rich, creamy sauce. She was already twisting the noodles onto her fork, not wasting a second.

"You eat like you've been starving all day," I teased.

"Maybe I have," she said with a playful shrug. "Or maybe I just didn't want to settle for anything less than this dinner with you."

Her words hit me right in the chest. Zaire had this way of being both sweet and sharp, like she knew how to keep me on my toes.

After we finished eating, the rain had let up enough for us to walk back to my car. She hooked her arm through mine, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as we strolled down the quiet street. I wanted to say something about how right it felt, how every step beside her felt like home, but I kept it to myself.

Instead, I pulled her a little closer. "Cold?"

"Not with you," she murmured.

The simplicity of her answer made my heart skip. We reached the car, but neither of us moved to get in. She tilted her head back, looking up at me with those warm, knowing eyes.

"Dakarai," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For tonight, for everything."

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting my hand linger on her cheek. "I should be thanking you. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, Zaire."

She smiled, and I leaned down, brushing a kiss against her lips. It wasn't rushed or hurried—just a quiet moment between us, surrounded by the scent of rain and the soft glow of streetlights.

As we pulled apart, her fingers intertwined with mine. "Let's drive," she said, her voice carrying a hint of mischief.

"Anywhere you want," I replied, opening the car door for her.

Wherever we went, I knew it would be another memory I'd treasure forever.

We drove for a while with no particular destination in mind. The city lights blurred past us, and Zaire reached over, fiddling with the radio until she found a station playing her favorite neo-soul track. She hummed softly at first, then started singing, her voice warm and unpolished but perfect to me.

"You know," I said, glancing at her as the chorus hit, "you could've had a music career. Forget photography—you're wasting your talent."

She laughed, smacking my arm playfully. "And here I thought you liked my singing. Guess I was wrong."

I shook my head, grinning. "Nah, you're amazing. Don't stop."

For the next few miles, we sang together, off-key and carefree, until the road turned quieter and the city gave way to open stretches of trees and fields. I pulled off into a small park that overlooked the river, the moonlight shimmering on the water like a painting.