13:36Somewhere in Sweet Café
Ekissa's scowl has smoothed out a bit to look a minimum professional with her client—it didn't fully fade, but at least now, no one thinks she's this close to punching the person babbling about how perfectly Ekissa succeeded in bringing out the vibe they were exactly trying to go with. Ekissa's arms aren't crossed over her chest like they usually would, serving more often than not as a physical shield that stops people from trying anything funny with her. Instead, they're resting on the table, awkwardly so, as her hands envelop her mug of black coffee to have something to do with them.
The client is still talking while lifting the large, painted canvas as they admire the work with genuine awe. Blinking out of it, and perhaps noticing the grumpy woman's face that screams 'are we done here?', they set down the canvas against the wall on the table with care.
But of course, this client isn't deterred and looks like someone who loves art something fierce. So instead of easing on the praises, they keep going under Ekissa's mounting annoyance.
Ekissa never liked it. The praises were good and nice and all that, but too many of these can render her intolerant and honestly fed up. At least this one doesn't try to make her heart 'melt' with praises just to have her number. She might be confident and sometimes almost arrogant in that smug, playful way, but this shit has never been something she gloats about. Honestly, the interest some people have for her is just so annoying now that she has you.
She couldn't stomach people except for a few dates here and there, but now that you're the center of her attention, she's even more repulsed by people that aren't you. Well, if you don't count people she considers as her family and friends.
She's not annoyed just because of the praises or the yapping she's gaining from her client, though. There's another reason.
Tilting her body on the side just a fraction, her gaze falls on you. You're still with the single red rose in your hand and the several boxes of chocolate resting on the table she bought for you, still sitting at the table you two chose earlier before she reluctantly had to leave your side and sit at this table instead.
She told you you didn't have to come with her, that she would join you later at your place, but you've always been such a stubborn mule. So here you are, waiting for her to be done, and here she is, this close to snapping at the client to just take the goddamn painting and fuck off.
The only thing keeping her sane is the few eye contacts between you two. It's also the way you wiggle your eyebrows just to bring a smile to her lips while she doesn't bother hiding her snorts and good-natured eye rolls.
Ekissa won't show it publicly, but she can feel her heart filling with warmth each time she glances your way just because she wants to look at you. Just because she has this urge to want you close, to see each shift of your expression, to just be by your side and listen to your voice.
She finally decides to end it before she loses her mind for good, "You good with it? I've got stuff to do, and you paid me already."
"Ah, uh," the client blinks, stopping whatever they were saying about the abstract art. "Yes, I thin—"
"Good," Ekissa mutters gruffly, not waiting for an answer to get up and grab her lukewarm coffee.
Ekissa doesn't even spare the client a glance as she makes her way toward your table, her long strides eating up the distance between you as if needing as much distance as she can and as fast as she can get between her and the client still looking at her back with their mouth still open.
The relief that washes over Ekissa's features is subtle but here nonetheless as she suppresses the distance between you two, her black eyes softening when they land on you. Once at your table, instead of taking the seat across from you like before, she slides into the booth right next to you, close enough that her thigh presses against yours.
She lets out a heavy exhale. "Fucking finally," she sets her mug down with more force than necessary, her hand immediately finding your thigh, settling there, and squeezing gently to ground her.
"You looked like you were about to throw your coffee at them," you tease, taking a sip of your warm drink while your hand covers hers.
"I was considering it," Ekissa admits, her lips quirking into something that's almost a smile. Her thumb traces idle circles, an absentminded gesture that calls from habit rather than real stress where she'd need the distraction. "They kept going on and on about the 'emotional depth' and 'raw vulnerability' I brought into the painting." She grumbles. "Like, yeah, I painted the damn thing. I know what it is."
You can't help but laugh at her grumpy tone, slightly spreading your fingers to interlace them with hers. "At least they paid well," you offer reasonably, trying to find the silver lining. "They could be a nice regular."
"They could've paid me double, and I still would've wanted to deck them for keeping me away from you." She snorts dismissively. She turns her head slightly, black eyes meeting yours. "It's Valentine's Day, and I'm stuck listening to some art nerd instead of spending it with you."
"We're together now," you remind her gently, squeezing her hand.
Ekissa grunts in acknowledgement, though her attention drifts to the red rose now sitting on the table next to your other hand, then to the chocolates on the table, and something warm flickers across her expression—something soft and unguarded that she only ever shows you.
"You're right," she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. "We are. You tested the chocolate?"
"I was waiting for you."
"Mh," Ekissa hums, and she can't quite conceal the pleased glint in her obsidian orbs.
The café buzzes with quiet conversation around you, the scent of coffee and pastries hanging in the air, but in this moment, it feels like it's just the two of you. The bubble around you keeps building until all Ekissa can hear is the sound of your voice—the only pleasant sound she wouldn't mind listening to for the rest of her life, however cheesy that might sound.
She makes no move to remove her hand from your thigh, her fingers laced with yours, because while PDA isn't her thing at all, this is the only thing she doesn't mind showing to people that might be able to witness. This is the only thing that doesn't make her uncomfortable—not because she feels embarrassed but because she doesn't like exposing this side of her to random assholes.
She wants this side to be reserved only for her partner; she wants this to stay private. She's always been selfish about it. But at least she owns it, and she's not afraid to call it what it is or to reassure you when you need it, even in front of people.
For once, the perpetual scowl on her face has completely melted away as she shifts slightly to get more comfy. Her gaze flickers between your face and the rose, something almost uncertain crossing her features—an expression that doesn't sit naturally on someone usually so confident.
"You enjoying this?" she asks gruffly, jerking her chin toward the chocolates and rose. "Valentine's Day, I mean. Even with my work getting in the way?" There's concern showing, though it's not like she wants to hide it from you anyway. "I promised you it wouldn't take long, but it ended up with you waiting an hour."
"Of course I am," you assure her. "I'm with you, aren't I?"
Her expression softens at that, the corners of her mouth curling up in a satisfied smile as she brings your intertwined hands up, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles—a rare public display she allows just this time. She doesn't do it because she feels forced to 'make it up' to you, though. She does it because you're so... She would've been annoyed if she were in your shoes, having to wait for an hour while you're working a few tables away.
You didn't. But then again, Ekissa wouldn't have minded if you were. You can be rather hot when you're angry or upset.
"Good," she murmurs against your skin. "Because you're stuck with me for the rest of the day. No more clients. Just us."
Surrounded by the quiet hum of the café with her hand warm in yours, you can't agree more. Because that's all either of you need.
Each other.