We return to the apartment, and the door slams shut behind us with a dull thud, as if emphasizing the tension hanging in the air. Katrin silently makes her way to the kitchen. Her steps are quick and sharp, as if each one is beating out the rhythm of her irritation. She grabs a bottle of wine from the shelf, and the glass clinks sharply against the edge of the table as she sets it down. Her fingers grip the neck so tightly that her knuckles turn white. She pours herself a glass, and the ruby liquid splashes into it, as if reflecting the storm raging inside her. Katrin brings the glass to her lips and takes a large sip, never taking her eyes off me. Something wild and untamed flickers in her gaze. A shiver runs down my spine. She is clearly waiting for me to launch into a lecture about the dangers of alcohol, but I decide not to provoke her further.
"I hope you're not going to forbid me this?" she mutters defiantly. Her voice is laced with bitterness, which she doesn't even try to hide.
"Today it's allowed, you've been a good girl. You've earned it," I tease, deliberately goading her. My words are playful, but inside, I feel the tension between us building, like a storm about to break. Rebel Girl just narrows her eyes.
"You do realize that I'm in such a state that I might literally bite you soon?"
"Oh, don't pout, it doesn't suit you," I say, grinning, but she is already too close.
Katrin approaches me, her eyes gleaming like those of an enraged cat. Taking my hand, she bites it hard. Damn, it hurts like hell, but I clench my teeth, trying not to give myself away, although my face probably betrays my true feelings. Katrin looks at my face, apparently feeling guilty. She glances at the bite mark (left a second ago) and unexpectedly runs her tongue over it. Her lips are soft, and her warm tongue sends a strange, almost pleasant shiver through me; this unexpectedly pleasant sensation makes me forget the pain.
"I wasn't trying to hurt you by making you change your wardrobe," I say quietly. "I just want you to try something new for at least two weeks. After that, you can keep wearing the things you like, and if you don't like something — we'll return it. We can return it within a month with the receipt," I try to explain, striving to sound as gentle as possible. My words are almost a whisper, as if I'm afraid to disturb the fragile balance between us. Rebel Girl freezes, staring into my eyes.
"Sorry for biting you," she whispers.
In her eyes, I can read remorse, but also something else — something I can't immediately understand. But I don't need her apology. I need to feel her. I lean in and, without hesitation, capture her lips. I kiss her slowly and gently, as if trying to soothe her, to distract her from all the words and tension hanging in the air. My lips brush against hers with such tenderness that it cannot be expressed in words. I feel her body tense at first, but gradually it becomes softer, more relaxed. Her hands, which were clenched into fists, open, and she hugs me, as if she also decides to surrender to this moment in response to my kiss.
Her lips answer mine with the same tenderness; Katrin forgets about the anger and all her doubts. In this moment, there is nothing between us but this kiss. I feel her heart begin to beat in sync with mine, and perhaps this is the best thing I can feel right now.
When we finally pull apart, she looks at me with eyes full of mixed emotions — embarrassment, tenderness, and something else that I cannot quite grasp. In those eyes flickers a vulnerability she rarely shows, and it touches me somehow.
"Do you... do you still want me to wear those dresses?" her voice is quiet, uncertain, but the previous sharpness is gone.
"Only if you want to yourself," I reply, smiling. "But I hope that you will at least try."
She sighs, and I notice a spark of interest flash in her eyes.
"Fine, I'll try."
At that moment, I feel my heart fill with warmth. It's a small step, but I know it's the beginning of something new. I am ready to walk this path with her, no matter how difficult it may be. Our feelings, however tangled they are, are worth fighting for.
"So, what were we talking about?" Katrin tilts her head slightly, her eyes shining with a light mockery, as if she is playing with me like a cat with a mouse, and I feel my heart stop for a moment. She clearly hasn't forgotten our conversation. Her gaze is imbued with slyness, and I know she is preparing for a new verbal duel.
"About the fact that we have a date tomorrow," I try to sound confident, although inside I am trembling with excitement.
"Really?" she looks at me with disbelief, her eyebrows rising, and her lips curling into a light smirk. It makes me feel slightly insecure. "And to what terribly cute place are you going to take me?"
"We are going to a theater performance," I stun her, trying to keep a straight face, but inside I am trembling with anticipation of her response.
Katrin's reaction is immediate and completely inimitable. She simply bursts into laughter, loud and sincere, as if I had just told her the funniest joke in the world. Rebel Girl even clutches her stomach to keep from falling over with laughter, and her eyes fill with tears. I stand there, feeling my face burn with embarrassment, but at the same time, it is nice to see her so joyful and alive.
"Oh, you're something else. You really cracked me up," she says through laughter, wiping tears from her eyes. Her voice trembles from laughter, and her face is so genuinely pleased that I have no choice but to smile in response. But deep down, a slight hurt remains. I understand that her laughter wasn't just a "tiresome joke," but I still cannot shake the feeling that she underestimates me.
"I wasn't joking. I already bought the tickets online, and we are going there tomorrow," I say firmly, trying to regain my seriousness. I want her to understand: for me, this is not just some prank. This is important — an important step that I thought about but couldn't say as I wanted to.
"Are you serious right now?" her laughter subsides, and she looks at me with clear disbelief, skeptically raising her eyebrows.
"Yes, serious," I nod in response.
"Have you lost your mind? What theater?" she still cannot believe it.
"The one near our institute," I hope that she finally understands the seriousness of my mood.
"Why? Why not just go to a café or a restaurant? Or, if you want to sit in a chair so much, let's go to the cinema. See? That is also a theater, just cinema," she says quickly, nervously, as if trying to find some other way out, and I continue to feel how irritation appears in her voice, but also confusion.
"I have always dreamed of visiting the theater, and now an opportunity has arisen," I admit, feeling my heart begin to beat a little faster. This is not just a desire; this is one of those few wishes I have been putting off.
Her expression changes; she approaches me and places her hands on my neck. Her fingers squeeze it softly, and I feel the warmth of her touch, although she still doesn't quite understand my motivation. But something in her gaze changes, it becomes softer.
"So this is your dream?" her voice becomes quieter, and a care that wasn't there before appears in it. I see her eyes soften, and she tilts her head slightly, as if trying to understand me better.
"Yes," I answer sincerely, hoping that she will feel the importance of this for me.
"Fine, we'll go to this theater of yours, my dreamer," irony appears in her voice again, but with a touch of tenderness.
I feel so warm that I want to run immediately and do everything to make this day perfect. I smile, feeling joy spreading inside.
"Thank you," I whisper, hugging her in response. I feel her body press against mine, and suddenly all doubts disappear. We just stand like that, and I am calm as never before. Rebel Girl smirks, but something else flashes in her eyes, which I can definitely call interest.
"Just watch out, if I get bored, I'll remind you of this," she winks slightly, and I understand that her agreement means more than just "fine."
"It's a deal," now I am sure that this day will become something meaningful for both of us.
We stand there, hugging, and I feel her breathing merge with mine, as if our world has focused on this second. In this moment, I realize that despite all her jokes and sarcasm, she truly cares about me. And I am ready to do everything to make this evening at the theater something truly unforgettable for us. I know that every step we take means more than just a plan for the evening.
I am incredibly happy, and this happiness overflows me to the brim, like bright sunlight penetrating every cell of my body. From this feeling, I cannot hold back and kiss her again, trying to convey everything that overflows me. This kiss is not just a gesture, but a kind of confession, a promise, as if I have finally found my place beside her.
This time, the kiss is not light and fleeting as before. It becomes deeper, more sensual, filled with sincere emotions that we both have been holding back for so long. Katrin responds to me with joy; her lips are soft and warm, and her breath mixes with mine, creating a feeling of complete unity.
Kisses have become something ordinary for us, but they do not lose their magic because of that. I cannot imagine how I would live without them every day. Not seeing her is comparable to a slow death for me. This does not mean that I will die physically, but inside I would certainly fade away without my girl. She has become my air, my light, my purpose.
I am kissing my girl. Yes, now I can officially say everywhere that she is my girl, and it gives me pride and confidence, as if I have found something priceless, something that makes my life meaningful and bright.
The kiss becomes deeper, more sensual, filled with sincere emotions that we have been holding back for so long. And despite the fact that we have long since learned to exchange kisses, each of them remains as magical as the first time. I feel her lips become softer, how she, dissolving in this kiss, answers me with the same passion.
With difficulty tearing myself away from those enticing lips, I ask:
"What time does it start?"
"At six in the evening," I try to sound confident, after all, excitement and happiness continue to mix inside me.
"A bit early, if you ask me," Katrin draws out, raising an eyebrow, but there is no longer previous wariness in her eyes, only playfulness and... trust.
"Well, it's your bars that open at eight, and parties start at ten," I parry, smiling.
I like how we can tease each other. In these little jabs, probably, lies the whole essence of our relationship: liveliness, mutual respect, and play.
"Well, yeah. And then what?" her interest is becoming obvious, and I catch notes of anticipation in her voice, as if she has started to get drawn into this idea.
"The performance lasts an hour and a half with short breaks, and then we can walk along the embankment," I suggest, hoping that this idea will please her too. I imagine how we will walk along the water, holding hands, under the light of streetlamps, and from this thought my heart begins to beat faster.
"Fine, I agree," the girl finally resigns herself to her fate, and I feel how my heart fills with joy. Now there are no doubts: she didn't just accept this, she truly trusts me.
Our bond is becoming stronger, and every step we take, every look, every kiss creates a new world between us — unique, only ours. And I know that I want to be beside her always, filling every minute with our laughter, our tenderness, and our love.