The evening air carried a soft warmth as Maria stepped out of the shop, the faint hum of the city wrapping around her like a familiar melody.
Streetlights flickered to life one by one, casting golden pools across the pavement.
For a moment, she simply stood there, adjusting the strap of her bag, trying to ignore the quiet flutter in her chest.
Beside her, Alexandre paused, slipping his hands into his pockets.
There was something unhurried about the way he moved, like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone and yet somehow, that made him impossible to ignore.
“I’d like to see you again,” he said.
The words were simple, but they didn’t feel casual.
There was a quiet certainty in his voice that made Maria glance up at him, just to make sure she had heard correctly.
For a split second, she considered brushing it off giving a polite smile.
That would’ve been easier.
But instead, she found herself smiling.
“I’d like that,” she replied, aiming for casual, though she could feel the warmth creeping into her cheeks.
Alexandre’s lips curved into a smile, subtle but genuine that small detail stayed with her longer than anything else.
“Great,” he said, straightening a little.
“I’ll walk you home.”
Maria hesitated then nodded.
“Okay.”
They walked step beside each other.
The street wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either.
It was less busier than morning time with clubs blasting speakers .
For a while, neither of them spoke.
And strangely, it wasn’t awkward.
Maria found herself aware of the small things, the rhythm of their footsteps, the occasional brush of their shoulders when the sidewalk narrowed, the way Alexandre glanced at her every now and then as if he wanted to say something but chose not to.
“So,” he said finally, breaking the silence, “do you often walk home?”
She let out a soft laugh.
“Depends.
Are you asking as someone who plans to run into me again, or just making conversation?”
He tilted his head slightly, considering her.
“Maybe both.”
Maria smiled, looking ahead.
“I walked when I need to think.
Or when I don’t want to.”
“That sounds contradictory.”
“It is,” she admitted.
“But it works.”
He nodded, like he understood more than she had explained.
“And you?” she asked.
“Do you usually walk strangers home?”
“may because you are different.”
She raised an eyebrow, glancing at him.
“how am I different?”
“can’t explain but your energy is attractive,” he said.
There was something in the way he said it not flirtatious, just honest enough to make her look away again, suddenly aware of how fast her heart was beating.
They reached her apartment building sooner than she expected.
Maria slowed to a stop, turning toward the entrance.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“Well,” she said , “this is me.”
Alexandre nodded, his gaze lingering on her just a second longer than necessary.
“Good to know.”
She shifted her weight slightly, unsure why leaving felt harder than it should.
“Give me your number ” he said and she did” I’ll text you soon,” he said, his voice lower now, in a way that felt almost private.
Maria met his eyes and smiled.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
There was a pause—brief, but noticeable.
Then she turned, pushing open the door and stepping inside.
She glanced over her shoulder through the glass.
He was still there, standing where she had left him, watching.
And when their eyes met again, he nodded before turning and walking away.
Alexandre exhaled slowly as he stepped onto the sidewalk, He didn’t usually linger after moments like that.
Didn’t usually replay conversations in his head.
But this was different.
Maria wasn’t like anyone he had met in a long time.
There was something about her—something he couldn’t quite define.
It wasn’t just her smile, though that alone could stop him mid-thought.
It wasn’t even the way she spoke, calm and thoughtful with just enough edge to keep him on his toes.
It was the feeling she left behind.
He pulled out his phone as he walked, unlocking it without hesitation.
His thumb hovered over the screen for a second before he typed:
Just got home safely.
Can’t stop thinking about you.
He stared at the message.
“Isn’t it to soon?, maybe” .
He sent it anyway.
Maria had barely kicked off her shoes when her phone buzzed.
She walked over and picked up the phone.
Her lips curved into a smile before she could stop herself.
Just got home safely.
Can’t stop thinking about you.
She let out a quiet breath, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
“That didn’t take long,” she murmured to herself.
For a second, she considered waiting—playing it cool.
But the truth was, she didn’t want to.
She threw caution to the wind.
Her fingers moved quickly:
Same here.
Can’t wait to hear from you again.
She hit send before she could overthink it.
Across town, Alexandre’s phone buzzed.
He checked it immediately and smiled.
There it was again—that same feeling.
He leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair before typing his reply:
How about we grab dinner tomorrow night?
My treat.
This time, he didn’t hesitate.
Maria read the message twice.
Dinner.Tomorrow.
She bit her lip, a mix of excitement and nerves settling in.
It had been a while since she had felt like this light, this curious, this… hopeful.
I’d love to, she typed.
Where did you have in mind?
How about that Italian place on 5th Street? Get faster updates on g.com.
7 pm?
Maria’s smile widened.
Perfect.
See you then.
Alexandre stared at the screen for a moment after her reply came through.
Then he typed one last message:
Looking forward to it.
He set his phone aside and leaned back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
For once, he wasn’t thinking about work.
Or plans, or anything complicated.
The next evening arrived faster than either of them expected.
Alexandre stood just outside the restaurant, adjusting the sleeve of his shirt.
He had gone with something simple—dark jeans, a crisp white shirt—but even so, he found himself checking his reflection in the glass door more than once.
“Relax,” he muttered under his breath.
Then he stepped inside.
The restaurant was warm and softly lit, filled with the quiet murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses.
The scent of garlic and herbs hung in the air, rich and inviting.
His eyes scanned the room and found her.
Maria sat at a table near the window, the soft glow of the lights catching the deep red of her dress.
She looked effortlessly elegant, her posture relaxed, her gaze thoughtful as she glanced around the room.
For a moment, Alexandre just stood there.
Then she looked up.
And everything else faded.
Her face lit up when she saw him, a smile breaking across her lips—genuine, unguarded.
His heart skipped.
He walked toward her, each step steady, though he could feel the shift inside him—the same pull he had felt the night before, stronger now.
“Hey,” he said as he reached the table.
“Hey,” she replied, her voice warm.
For a second, they just looked at each other, both smiling like they had been expecting this moment all day.
“You look…” he started, then paused, searching for the right word.
“Good?” she offered, teasing slightly.
He shook his head.
“That’s not enough.”
Her smile softened.
“You look incredible,” he said finally.
She glanced down briefly, then back up at him.
“Thank you.”
“And you clean up pretty well yourself,” she added.
He laughed lightly as he took his seat across from her.
“Glad I passed the test.”
“Oh, it’s still ongoing,” she said, her tone playful.
“Good,” he replied.
“I like a challenge.”
Their eyes met again, and this time, neither of them looked away too quickly.
Because somewhere between the shop, the walk home, and this moment—
Something had already begun.
And neither of them was pretending not to notice anymore.