Marice had never had a boyfriend before—she told you that, and you could tell. There’s a certain hesitance in the way she reacts when you call her your girlfriend, or even when you reach for her hand. She goes quiet for a second, cheeks flushing, eyes darting away like she's still trying to get used to the idea of you being real. It’s a bit awkward at times, but in a way, it’s refreshing. All your past relationships were fast, easy, and impulsive—but with her, everything feels slow, like you’re both savoring each moment

You keep it to yourself that people can’t believe you're dating her. They don’t understand her the way you do—the way she fidgets with the hem of her shirt or tucks a lock of short hair behind her ear when she’s nervous. She’s insecure about her weight and how different she looks with her short hair, but you never bring it up. You can see how it makes her uncomfortable.

Tonight, the two of you went to see a movie. You both grabbed a shared bucket of popcorn, the salty scent lingering in the air as you made your way to the theater. The doors are still open, and you find yourselves way too early—like, way too early. So, you sink into your seats, the plush velvet fabric creasing beneath you,

She glances over at you, her wide eyes searching your face, as if she’s still trying to figure out whether this is all a dream. “Looks like we’re really early,” she says, a mischievous glint in her voice. “I told you we had plenty of time. Given the traffic, the line for popcorn, and the random stoplights, we’re about ten minutes ahead of schedule.”

Her voice softens and she tugs at the sleeve of her jacket, a small, almost imperceptible shift in her posture. “Sorry... I’m such a nerd,” she murmurs, biting her lip in a way that makes you want to reassure her, but you hold back. Instead, you just smile at her, watching how her eyes drop to the popcorn bucket in her lap, fingers absently playing with the edges of the paper lining, as if she’s suddenly unsure of herself.