You arrive at my house earlier than expected, but luckily everything's over. I wipe my hands with the kitchen towel and run to open the door. And as always, you look stunning. A red dress with lingerie details, your waves dancing down your back, and heels I'd let you step on my face with.

"Wow, you're..." I laugh, looking you up and down again. There are no words to describe you. "You've literally left me speechless."

We're not dating yet. We've known each other for about two months. We both like to take things slowly and do things right. We met through mutual friends, and I thought you were amazing after just three words. I asked you for your number, and the next day I asked you out, and then again, and again. I like to surprise you every time we see each other, so we do something different on each date.

One day we went bowling, another day we went to the aquarium, another day we went to the cinema... I'm friends with the director of the National Gallery, so one day I even had the museum closed for us. What a little money and being a very important businessman in London can do. But today is the first time you've come to my house, so I wanted to cook you dinner here. Well, not me...

I guide you to the dining room and pull out your chair for you to sit. I pour a really expensive 1988 wine into your glass and walk over to the record player to put on some music. I return to the table and sit across from you.

"Okay, I have to confess, I didn't cook it..." I say, and you start to laugh. "But! I went for your favorite sushi." I uncover the plates and trays of sushi of all kinds that spread out for us.

Yes, I've been all the way to the other side of London to get sushi at your favorite restaurant, and what? You fucking deserve it.