Sushi And A Toothbrush
"What do you feel like eating tonight?"
"Let me think for a minute."
He watched her think for two minutes. It was one of the many things he liked about her: not rushing into her decisions, but always reaching one in a sensible manner. He smiled while watching her.
"I want sushi, although maybe you don't want that because if we have sushi, I'm not making out."
He laughed and then stopped short because she meant it. She almost always means what she says. It's like she doesn't have a filter.
"It's okay. If you feel like having raw fish tonight, that's happening."
She smiled and kissed him for a couple of beats.
"There you go. Now we can eat fulfilled."
Around her, he couldn't help but smile all the time.
The sushi was good. Date nights were always good with her, she made most of their restaurant choices and picked more than half of their conversation topics.
"I might give you a good night kiss, okay?"
She said it while they were pulling out of the parking lot, sounding genuinely thoughtful.
He glanced at her and felt like being spontaneous, so he headed for a pharmacy drive thru.
"Why are we here? Do you feel sick?"
He didn't respond. Then he bought a toothbrush. Then he drove to his apartment. She remained silent, fascinated by the aparent situation.
Before they got out of the car, he handed her the toothbrush.
"Let's brush our teeth and then make out, okay?"