Dinner For Two
770 Words
Chapter 4 ~
Mia spent the entire week telling herself it was just dinner.
Not a date, not anything special just two people sharing a meal. But as she stood in front of her mirror Friday evening, adjusting her blouse for the third time, she couldn’t ignore the way her heart kept doing that annoying flip.
Kara, her best friend, sat cross legged on the bed, sipping milk tea and watching her with a smirk.
“Girl, you’re glowing.”
“I’m stressed,” Mia said quickly.
“Sure. Stressed ka,pero naka lipstick ka pa,” Kara teased.
Mia rolled her eyes. “He’s just. nice to talk to.”
Kara leaned forward. “And nice to look at?”
Mia didn’t answer mostly because her phone buzzed with a message.
Leo: “Outside. No need for umbrella tonight.”
Her stomach did a little somersault. She grabbed her bag and waved at Kara. “Don’t wait up.”
Outside, Leo was leaning casually against his motorcycle, wearing a white button-up with the sleeves rolled just enough to show his forearms. The sight made her forget how to breathe for a second.
“You ride?” she asked, surprised.
“Only when the weather’s good. Don’t worry, I brought an extra helmet.”
The ride through Manila at night was different the air cooler, the traffic lighter, the city lights turning everything golden. She held onto the side grips at first, but when he made a sharp turn, her hands instinctively found his waist. He didn’t say anything, but she felt the way his shoulders relaxed.
They arrived at a small, dimly lit Filipino Spanish restaurant tucked in a quiet street of Malate. The place smelled of garlic, sizzling meat, and freshly baked bread. Warm fairy lights hung across the ceiling, and soft guitar music played in the background.
“Wow,” Mia said, looking around. “This is. nice.”
“I figured you’d like somewhere quiet,” Leo replied.
Over plates of gambas, beef salpicao, and garlic rice, the conversation flowed easily. They talked about childhood memories his summer trips to Laguna, her high school art competitions. She laughed until her cheeks hurt when he told her about the time he accidentally got locked inside a construction site restroom.
At one point, the waiter placed a small slice of leche flan between them.
“One dessert, for sharing,” the waiter said with a knowing smile.
Mia raised an eyebrow. “Did you plan that?”
“Maybe,” Leo said, grinning. “I wasn’t sure if you liked sweets.”
“I like… some,” she said, taking a bite.
“And what about sweet people?” he asked casually, eyes locking with hers.
She tried to act unfazed, but her pulse quickened. “Depends. Are you applying?”
“Maybe,” he said again and that maybe hung between them like a secret promise.
After dinner, they strolled along the baywalk, the salty air mixing with the faint scent of grilled corn from a nearby vendor. The moonlight shimmered over the water, and somewhere in the distance, a street performer was singing “Kahit Maputi Na ang Buhok Ko.”
Leo slowed his pace, matching hers. “You know…” he began, “I haven’t had a night like this in a long time.”
Mia smiled faintly. “You mean… dinner with someone?”
“I mean dinner with someone I actually want to see again tomorrow.”
Her heart did that annoying little flip again, and she tried to look away before he noticed. “Corny ka talaga.”
He chuckled, but didn’t argue. Instead, he stopped at a street vendor selling balloons, bought a simple white one, and handed it to her.
“So you’ll remember tonight,” he said softly.
When they reached her gate, she turned to give the usual polite goodbye. But before she could speak, Leo gently reached for her free hand, his fingers warm against hers.
For a moment, they just stood there the world quiet except for the faint hum of the city in the background.
“Next week ulit?” he asked, his voice lower now.
Mia looked down at their joined hands, then back at him. She didn’t pull away. “Yes,” she said this time, without hesitation.
His smile widened, slow and genuine. He gave her hand a small squeeze before letting go, stepping back reluctantly.
As she stepped inside the gate, she realized she was still holding the balloon in one hand and the lingering warmth of his touch in the other.
- Writer
