The sound of water splashing echoed around the first floor of his home. It was a generously sized abode, one that he owned in its entirety.

He lived alone. 

He stepped out of the shower. It was a winter’s evening, and he was getting ready for a date with a woman he met a few weeks before. It was their second date. The first was more of a casual meeting than a date; they arranged to meet in the on the previous Sunday evening, and they went for a walk in a park near where she lived. They walked her dog; he felt he couldn’t commit enough to a pet, but he loved all animals, especially exotic ones.

He liked to look his best; he spent the better part of an hour dressing to more-than-impress.

*

He looked around for her. She waved to grab his attention. He saw her and walked to the table.

‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ he said, as he pulled out the chair opposite.

‘You’re not late, I’m early.’

They had arranged to meet at seven. She was there two minutes before; he was three after.

A waiter approached the table with a pair of menus. He handed one to each.

‘Here is our menu. I’ll let you look over everything and I’ll be back soon. Can I get you drinks?’

‘I’ll have a glass of the house white, please,’ she said.

‘And red for me.’ 

Her eyes shifted to him. He could see her face in his peripherals. 

‘Both large glasses,’ he said.

‘I’ll be right back,’ said the waiter. 

As soon as the waiter’s back turned, they looked at each other, both wondering what the night had planned. It was a Saturday night, and neither of them had to be awake early for anything tomorrow.

She was wearing a black dress she bought a couple of days prior to their evening. Her hair was long and strong enough to hold the loose curls she permed into it. Her eyes were bright enough to light any room she was in.

The waiter returned with their glasses of wine before taking their order.

She had a steak with a salad, he had pasta arrabbiata. They shared a plate of onion rings.

He wore a pair of black slim trousers and a white fitted shirt, covered by a jacket with a collar and long tails. His pearly complexion complimented his defined facial structure, and he was topped with a head of thick slicked-back black hair.

She cut a piece of the steak and offered it to him.

‘No, thank you,’ he said.

‘Don’t you like steak?’

‘I do like steak, but I know that was cooked with garlic butter, so it won’t do my allergies any favours.’

He nodded down at his food.

‘Anyway, this pasta is delicious.’

She cut through a piece of steak on her plate. She smirked at him as she looked up; she forced her fork into the steak and lifted it into her mouth, all while maintaining eye contact.

‘What?’ he said, smiling back at her.

She held his gaze.

‘Do you fancy coming back to mine for another glass?’

‘What, now?!’

‘No, silly,’ she said, laughing playfully. ‘After this.’

They paid for the meal and ordered a taxi; before long, they were back at hers.

As they got out the cab, he looked around. The road was silent but filled with streetlight. The cab pulled away; he stood observing his surroundings whilst she walked towards the house.

She stopped and turned as she finished unlocking her door.

‘Is everything okay?’

‘Fine, I’m just—‘

‘You’re just?’

‘I’m just, I’m okay.’ He looked at her and forced a smile. ‘It’s cold out here; are you going to invite me in?’

‘You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.’

‘No, I am fine. If you want me to come in, then it’d be rude not to.’

She looked down at the ground between them as she blushed.

‘I want you to come in.’

She turned to walk through the door; he followed her. They took their shoes off and hung their coats.

‘Make yourself at home,’ she said, gesturing towards front room’s door. ‘I’ve got all the wines; red for you, right?’

‘Please.’

The lights were dim and the music was soft. He looked around and admired her place; he thought about how it felt more homely than his, which was really just somewhere to sleep.

She placed the glasses on the table and sat next to him before pouring their wine.

He felt a sudden chill in his body.

‘I need to freshen up.’

‘The bathroom is at the top of stairs, the last door on the left.’

He walked up the stairs; he could feel sweat on his forehead.

He found his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him as soon as he entered. He didn’t need to use anything in the bathroom; he wanted a minute with his thoughts.

Heavy breathing alone. His nerves had got the better of him, but he didn’t know if his nerves were excitement. 

He turned on the tap and had a drink from it; deep breathing and water would help.

He hung his head over the sink and held on to the sideboard to support himself. As he watched the water trickle away, he mentally checked in with the different parts of his body; he thought he might have a panic attack. He wondered why he felt that way; he had no reason to feel afraid.

‘Did you find it okay?’ came her voice from downstairs.

‘All good, thank you. Just washing my hands.’

He wasn’t sure if it was right him being there.

He dried his hands using a hand towel on the rail. He looked up into the mirror. He sometimes wished a reflection looked back at him.

‘On the way.’