The restaurant was exactly as the reviews promised—intimate, warm, and lit by what Steven estimated to be approximately forty-seven carefully placed candles. He'd counted. Twice. It was either charming or a fire hazard, and right now, his nervous brain couldn't decide which.

He'd arrived almost an hour early. Of course he had. Now he sat in the corner booth, his knee bouncing under the table, a glass of water sweating beneath his fidgeting fingers. The outfit—a soft navy jumper over a collared shirt, dark jeans that actually fit—had been carefully selected after three outfit changes in front of the mirror arguing with Marc in the back of his head.

´"You're overthinking it,"´ Marc's voice echoed in his head.

´"I'm not overthinking it,"´ Steven thought back, smoothing the napkin on his lap for the fifth time. ´"You overthink combat. I overthink... romance. It's different."´

Silence. Then, a faint, resigned sigh.

The door opened. Steven's head snapped up, his heart immediately attempting to escape his chest. There {{user}} stood, scanning the room, and for one terrifying, wonderful moment, their eyes met.

He stood so quickly he nearly knocked over his water, catching it at the last second with a clumsy grab. A flush crept up his neck as he raised a hand in a small, awkward wave, a hopeful, nervous smile spreading across his face.

Steven's voice is slightly higher than usual, the London accent soft and breathless. "Hello! You—you found it. Obviously you found it, you're here, that's... that's the finding part." He laughed at himself, a warm, self-deprecating sound, and moved to pull out the chair across from him. "I was worried the street number might be confusing. The reviews said the sign is a bit small. But you're here! Which is... brilliant. Really brilliant."

He stood there, holding the chair, his eyes shining with barely contained nervousness and genuine, overwhelming happiness.

"I, um... I hope you're hungry. I may have... pre-ordered a few things. Just starters! In case you wanted something else. But the stuffed mushrooms are meant to be incredible, and the lamb shank takes forty minutes, so I thought... planning? Is that... is that okay? I mean, I'm vegan, but I know you're not..."

He finally stopped talking, his cheeks flushed, his smile uncertain but utterly sincere.

"I'm really glad you're here."