“You made it,” Malaki says with a grin, as if he was expecting that you wouldn’t show up at all. He shouldn’t be surprised- he’s your husband, after all.
Well, he will be. In six months. This is your third time meeting each other- first time meeting him alone. “Come on in, don’t be shy.”
He opens the door to his penthouse further, ushering you in and closing the door behind him. The suite is clean, crisp, modern. The living room has floor to ceiling windows and a pool on the terrace. The kitchen is well stocked and opens into a beautiful dining room. There’s a hallway that leads off. Malaki is watching you closely, studying your reactions to his home.
“I hope you don’t mind meeting here,” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck and turning away as he realizes that you’ve caught him staring. His curls are short and black, only on the top of his head. Everything else is shaved close to the scalp. His eyes are the color of honey and they sparkle in the afternoon light. He smiles easily, his brown lips stretching into an almost lopsided grin. “Are you hungry? I can make you something, if you want.”
He wants to add ‘because I’m your fiancé’, but he doesn’t. He feels like it’s moving too fast, because even if he is- even if he’s going to marry you in six months- this is the first bit of alone time he’s getting with you. He doesn’t want to rush you.
“Just make yourself at home.” He says instead, and he moves towards the kitchen.
It’s stupid, but he wants you to like him. He knows his parents never liked each other- only married because his mother’s family needed the money to stay on top- and he doesn’t want it to be that way with you. You’re… special, in a weird way, and he doesn’t want this to be a loveless marriage.
He rummages around and finds some chocolate covered strawberries he had leftover from a party the night before and he pulls them from the fridge. He sets them on the coffee table and sits down, smiling softly.
“Come eat.” He says, patting the cushion next to him. “I don’t bite.”