polaroid angel - dreamnotfound

˖⋆࿐໋₊ 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳

"what are you getting, george?"

he puts down his menu, observing my worried expression as i skim through the pages.
"uhm... i think i'll just have a salad and a glass of water," i nervously shrug.

these prices are ridiculous. i should've asked dream to take me somewhere cheap, but of course i'd have to forget. everything looks delicious, but i can already hear my wallet crying for help. just play it off, george. you'll be fine.

"really?" he wonders, "you don't want a steak or anything? something more to drink?"
"well, if i'm honest.. it's a bit expensive. i don't really have-"
"oh! don't worry about that please. it's all on me. my treat."
"dream! you can't pay for me, it's-"

my sentence cuts off when he grabs my hand from across the table.
"i said, don't worry about it. it's on me tonight."

his tone is soft, so soft that i almost shiver. that confident stare could catch me off guard any day of the week. the emerald green eyes, the slight grin on his lips..

stop.

i snap out of my trance, eyeing the menu once again. this time i pick something i actually want, since dream is so insisting.

"okay, i want the filet mignon then. and maybe some red wine."
"how does artadi sound? i'll order an entire bottle for the two of us," he says, pointing at the wine list.
"dream! that's over a hundred dollars!" i exclaim.
"i swear, if you 'dream!' me one more time, i'm never speaking to you again."

he wheezes upon seeing my horrified reaction. it's the most contagious laughter i think i've ever heard. i can't help but lose my shit too.

"sorry, i'm sorry!" i giggle, "i won't, i promise."
"i'm just kidding," he huffs, "but stop. you don't have to worry about a thing when you're with me."

there it is again. that low, calming voice that always has me weak. my fingers absentmindedly play with the hem of my blue skirt. i bet i'm blushing like an idiot right now.

he calls a waiter over to order. he gets my filet mignon, the bottle of wine, and some fancy chicken dish for himself. i feel bad for leaving the bill to him. this must add up to such a high total. but he said it was fine, so i guess i'll just go along with it.

the waiter notes it all down, giving us both a welcoming smile before scurrying off into the restaurant. the late summer air is fresh, and still fairly warm at this hour. i often freeze, but i've got no problem sitting out here in a skirt and short sleeves. dream has rolled his up too, showing off muscular arms with veins running all over. i have to admit that i'm a little weak for veins. especially on someone who's already attractive in every other possible way.

he lights up a parliament as we wait for our food to arrive, leaving the pack on the table. i watch him smoke it with dreamy eyes. my elbow rests on the dark wood, and my head in my hand. i sigh happily when he meets my longing gaze. who cares if he sees me thirst over him, he surely doesn't mind. i'm confident he already knows that he's hot as fuck.

"you look so pretty tonight."

he gently caresses my cheek, cigarette still between his fingers. his rings are cold against my skin. if i wasn't red before, i certainly am now. i lean into his touch without shame, even shutting my eyes briefly. the compliments, the way he speaks to me, treats me.. i love it.

"and you're really handsome."

i'm surprised i could even say that without stuttering or fucking up once. dream smiles at me, seemingly satisfied with my response. this is just a professional dinner, between two work buddies. nothing else. just like i told myself before in the changing room. totally just a friendly dinner. yeah. totally.

ten minutes later, two plates full of warm, luxurious food stand in front of us on the table. i definitely don't regret getting the filet mignon. it both smells and looks delicious. dream's chicken does too. the waiter opens the wine bottle for us, filling two glasses with the red, fruity liquor. it even tastes fancy. dream sure knows his way around the wine list.

i cut into the piece of meat, humming as i chew on it. it's perfectly tender and seasoned.
"this is amazing," i remark, mouth full.
"mine is really good too."
"can i taste it?"

he nods, putting a piece of chicken on his fork and feeding it to me.
"yeah, that's nice," i agree, taking another sip of my wine.

we make small talk while eating, and dream finally opens up to me. i learn that he lives only around five minutes away from the company's office, in a big apartment building overlooking the best parts of the city. he even hints at wanting to show me his place at some point. i hope he means it. we discuss the art scene, photo editing and current trends in the industry. the conversation flows so nicely, not once do i have to think about what to say next, or if something i've said sounds stupid. he makes me feel safe and accepted.

he tells me that he plays guitar and bass, and that he used to be in a band when he was younger. as high school kids they had many aspirations, but never made it further than a couple garage gigs. after they disbanded he took his love for photography and made it into an occupation, essentially following in his father's footsteps. his skill and creative attention to detail helped him gain popularity pretty quickly, leading right up to today.

when the conversation mellows out only one question remains unanswered.

"how can you afford all this? i mean, the dinner, and you've got a nice apartment.."
"i inherited," he replies, "most of it anyway. my job makes me decent money, but not enough to sustain myself if i want to keep living like this. i'm hoping to be recognized by someone who sees the raw, true talent in me. freelancing never works out in the long run."

i nod in understanding. daddy's money. who would've thought.

the bottle stands empty on the table. i'm feeling warm and relaxed as direct effects of the alcohol. a hundred dollars well spent. i chuckle at the thought. i've never been treated to such luxury before, so this is a first for me. i'm giddy, butterflies flapping around in my stomach.

the sun set long ago, the moon now taking its place instead. we must've been sitting here for hours, yet it barely even feels like minutes. i could stay for way longer if i needed to. spending time with dream is just so easy.

the lit candles by the restaurant's entrance are running out of wax as we approach closing time. the pitch black darkness of the night sky could make anyone yawn with exhaustion. but new york city never sleeps. electric lights flood every street, no matter where you turn. thank god for blinds.

"well, what do you say, is it time to leave?"
"yeah," i shrug.

we pay - or, more correctly, dream pays - and make our way onto the sidewalk to bid each other farewell for the night. his face is even more stunning like this, when a street light hits it from an angle. i can see the cute freckles covering his sun-kissed cheeks clearly now. he takes both of my hands in his, effectively snatching my breath away at the same time.

"are you sure you'll make it home safely?" he asks, clearly worried about me.
"i'll be fine," i assure him.
"alright, but please call me if you need anything."

he hands over his business card with his number already printed on it.

"thank you dream, for tonight. i had a blast," i smile.
"thank you too, george."
"we have to do this again some time."
"so there is a next time?" he smirks, hopeful.
"definitely," i confirm.

for a second, all we do is stand there staring at each other. my heart is seriously threatening to jump out of my chest.

"uhm, p-professionally or privately?" i stutter, my eyes losing focus.
"professionally?" he snorts, "fuck that."

he leans in slightly. we're so close. i'm struggling. my fingers are trembling, my breath hitching.

"it's a date."

he grips my chin, turning my head to kiss my cheek. holy shit. without another word he leaves me there on the street, walking back to his apartment alone. i feel the little wet spot on my skin with my fingertips. dream.