five

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Olivia,

I'd never been more nervous for a first date than that first night with you. It had taken me two weeks to text you and ask you out, even with all of Niall's constant badgering. I'd settled on that nice Italian restaurant across from Central Park, even though I knew I would be living off Ramen Noodles for the rest of the month after paying the bill. I was just a resident after all, and up to my ears in student loans.

I'd made the reservation, pressed my nicest dress shirt and tie, and had meticulously adjusted each of my curls in the mirror. Niall had quite the laugh watching me get ready- even made some comment about me getting ready for the prom. But I wanted to make it right. I'd never felt such an instant connection as I had with you, and I surely didn't want to mess it up- not again.

When I pulled up at your house, I felt the back of my shirt drenching with sweat, and prayed that the cologne I had spritzed on was doing its job of hiding the obvious nervous wreck that I was. It was silly really, I could run a code, or work on a trauma with the perfect amount of calm- but sitting outside the apartment of a girl I wanted to impress- I was a mess.

And then I saw you, beautiful as always, wearing that little black dress that was a mix of classy and sexy all at the same time. Your hair pulled off to one side in loose tendrils. You were like an angel,love- and yes I know that you hate that cheesy stuff.

I got out and went to open the door for you, nearly tripping over the curb. I thought my hands might slip on the door they were so sweaty. But lucky for you they didn't, and in your eyes I hopefully looked like a smooth gentleman.

I cleared my throat as I started the car, not being able to form a conversation because I had so much I wanted to say and yet so little at the same time. Lucky for me, you were a pool of endless conversation, in a good way. You immediately start talking about how you'd recently done an article about a doctor from New York who had just returned from six years with the Peace Corp, and how his training had assisted him with triage in a urban hospital. You asked me about whether I had any interest in doing something like that.

I told you that it sounded amazing, but I'd never really thought of doing that before. Which was the truth-I hadn't. I hoped that the doctor you had interviewed hadn't raised your expectations of my profession too much. I wanted to impress you after all.

When we pulled up to the restaurant, I couldn't help but be satisfied with my choice. It looked like the perfect mix of class and romance, and I hoped that you were as impressed with me as I was with myself. I helped you out of the car, and held out an arm for you and you linked your arm in mine. The feel our bodies connecting sent my heart racing- cliché I know, but true.

"Reservation for Styles," I said as we approached the attendant, glancing over at you and catching a glimpse of your smile. You were so naturally radiant, and I couldn't help but think of how lucky I was to have you on my arm at that moment.

"I'm sorry what was the name again?" the waiter asked.

"Styles. Two for 7 pm. I called on Monday," I said matter-of-factly. I wanted you to see that I was on top of this whole planning thing.

The waiter shuffled through his paper, then went off to check with a manager. That was the moment when I first realized that I might be in trouble. My face must have shown the first signs of fear, because you patted me on the arm and said "I'm sure they just got a little confused."

When the waiter came back and told us that they had indeed gotten a little confused and couldn't find my reservation, and that they were unfortunately booked solid for the night and couldn't accommodate us, I was worried that I had absolutely blown it. I barely even listened to the manager apologize and tell us that he could reserve us a new reservation for a different night, because that didn't solve the problem that I was having right now. And I doubted that after this whole escapade you would be willing to go on another date with me.

As we left the restaurant, I apologized profusely. Swearing to you that I had most definitely made the reservation and that I was sorry that I had ruined the date.

"Harry," you said in the most soothing voice I had ever heard. "You haven't ruined the date. We'll just find something else, it will be a little adventure."

And an adventure it was. We ended up getting some slices of pizza from the street vendor of Central Park. "This is the best pizza, I've ever tasted. That restaurant couldn't have beaten this," you said with a laugh as we sat on the bench. And I finally felt like maybe I hadn't totally blown this anyway.

As we ate the pizza, we talked. I told you about England, about residency so far, and how I had feeling a bit homesick of late. You told me about your job, your horrible boss, and about the novel you have been trying to write but just couldn't seem to find the right words for.

"I'm really glad that I ran into you again," I said, as we walked through Central Park. You had made a move, and slid your hand into mine- you've always been the leader of the relationship anyway. It felt familiar, like this was something we had done every day of our lives instead of just a few minutes.

"I'm glad I ran into you too," you said with a smile. "And I'm glad that you finally had the balls to ask me out this time around." It's in that moment that I saw how mischievous you could be when you wanted to.

"I'm hoping I haven't ruined this too much that I can ask you out for a second date?" I asked, as we stopped along the path. The sun had now set on the horizon, and the stars were beginning to peak out from the night sky.

"Best date I've ever been on really," you said with a laugh. "So I guess I'd be okay with another one."

"Perfect," I said. My eyes met yours for a moment, the moonlight highlighting the your face. We both stayed quiet- the quietest you had been all night- and you bit your lip.

I decided in that moment, I needed to take some initiative, reading the signs that I thought you were quite obviously giving me. I leaned in, and you followed, my lips meeting  yours. Our first kiss was perfect-warm, inviting, making my hands tingle just a little.

I didn't think anything could ever live up to that kiss, and maybe nothing has. And in that moment I hoped that I would never have to kiss another person in my life, because as crazy as it sounds, that felt like what I had been searching for my whole life.

All the Love,

H

All The Love, H (H.S.)Where stories live. Discover now