•°☆nose diver☆°•

Those damned glasses. You thought as, once again, Zayne showed up at your date with the same black outfit: black shirt, black pants, black sunglasses. The shoes are new, though, you’ll give him that. It was becoming difficult to maintain a straight face every time he adjusted the sunglasses on the rim of his nose. But how could you say anything to him? He looked nice, but it was tiring. You couldn’t understand the reason behind it. You’ve seen him wear other outfits at the hospital, but maybe those were for working? Was he so busy he couldn’t go out shopping for new clothes? 

Today was supposed to be a test: You’d wait for him at the bus stop in the shopping district. You had intentionally chosen a place where people would try to go dressed nicely, going as far as sending him a picture of your outfit last night, thinking maybe he’d try to match. But no, here he was, wearing that shirt. And it wasn’t even the same shirt, because you’d accidentally spilled chocolate on him the last time you met. 

Yes, talking to him about it would be the perfect option, sharing your opinion and talking it out like you usually do. But if his reluctance to wear anything else was because of not having the time to go shopping because of his busy schedule, you’d make both of you feel like shit. And you’d both promised that you’d use this time together to relax and relieve stress, being down about the clothing choices was not in the picture.

So you’d come up with an easy idea: a shopping date. The café you were going to visit this time, chosen by yours truly, was close to a newly opened mall. Tara had visited it the previous weekend and had been insisting you go shopping with her. I’m sorry Tara, you thought to yourself, but the moment you mentioned the amount of men's clothing stores, I couldn’t think of visiting with anyone else besides him. You stole a few glances at him but it only frustrated you further.

As you round up the corner, the mall came into view, and you excitedly talked him into going in, mentioning how much your friend wanted to come here. 

“Come on, Zayne! The café will be open until evening, and it will probably be super crowded at this time.” You said as you tugged him in the direction of the revolving doors, anticipation spreading a genuine smile on your face. He sighs and agrees to go in, his own lips slightly turning up at your excitement. “Oh, but we’ll be inside.” You continue, reaching out to take off his sunglasses and putting them away in a case in your purse. “I’ll hold onto them for you.” 

With a slight bounce on your step, you take him through the corridors, trying not to look too suspicious as you search for the men’s section. Your eyes light up when you get to the second floor, row after row of men’s wear, men’s shoes, men’s perfumes. Without missing a beat, you tug him closer by the hand, and start going down the corridor, checking for the perfect store. A light blue sweater catches your eye and you take it as your sign to go in. “You know, you received a very important acknowledgement last month,” You start saying, the excuse you rehearsed playing perfectly into the situation, “and I couldn’t attend the ceremony because of the surge in wanderers in Changsia and was forced to go there. So I was thinking I could compensate you by giving you a gift.” 

Not waiting for his response, you drag him inside. Zayne looks at you with a puzzled expression, probably remembering the snowglobe you’d brought him as a souvenir, but follows along. “You’ve already done enough for me. Plus, it wasn’t something to be celebrated. It was just a formality.”

You stare at him and allow yourself to really look at him this time, the gaze so intense it makes him look away nervously. “You spend your days saving people, helping them. An award is the least you deserve.” You see his ears turn slightly red. He coughs and scratches his neck in embarrassment. Deciding he’s been scrutinized enough, you look away towards the hangers, going through every possible fit that you thought would look good on him. 

By the time you arrived at the café, you had gone through three clothing stores, stopping only when both your hands were full with shopping bags. Zayne had tried to walk away at one point, but you’d managed to catch him right in time as you pulled on a light pink hoodie you thought would look amazing on him for at home dates. He didn’t fail to blush or stutter every time you complimented him on an outfit, and you may have gone a little too far at one point enjoying his reactions, when he tried a dark blue leather jacket. His gaze had darkened instantly at your amusement, turning to see if people were watching before pulling you into the changing stall. He’d pushed you toward the wall and gently lifted your chin to look up at him, your eyes locking on his mouth as he slowly and teasingly leaned in to claim your lips. It was your turn to come out looking flushed and disheveled, a small satisfied smile playing on your lips. 

You’d settled on a table by the back of the café, the view through the windows was beautiful: a hidden garden in this busy shopping district, light coming in through the trees to cast shadows over the white roses lining the walls. It was breathtaking, the atmosphere inside the place aiding to the feeling of otherworldliness. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you took it all in, turning towards Zayne, you notice him staring at you before he looks outside. You’re about to ask him if something happened when a waitress comes over. You take your time choosing from the vast menu. There were a lot of sweet choices, but also salted foods. After discussing what to eat, you drift into comfortable silence. Feeling his gaze burning into you again, you turn back to him, and this time he doesn’t look away. “You’ve been staring for a while now. What’s the matter?”

“I could ask you the same question. Our hands are full of shopping bags with clothes for me. You didn’t even let me buy you that scarf you were staring at. You’re not usually this motivated unless something is pulling at your strings.” He leans forward, determination shining in his gaze. You know that look, he’s not gonna back out until you speak about it. “So tell me, what is it that’s been bothering you?”

You try to play it cool and keep to your story. “I told you already. I regret not being here for-”

“Don’t say the awards ceremony.” He cuts you off, already sensing what you were trying to do. “You and I both know I couldn’t care less about it, that’s why you only brought me the snowglobe. And don't misunderstand me, I love it. But the ceremony was just business, nothing important.” His gaze on you intensified even more. You felt as if you were a kid in Josephine’s home again, caught red handed after eating the frosting from Caleb’s birthday cake. No place to run, only the truth would get you out of it. 

With a long, heavy sigh, you lean towards Zayne over the table. Not daring to look him in the eye, you look down at your hands spread over the menu. “I- I wanted you to wear something different.” As soon as the words leave your lips, you feel embarrassment wash over you. What was so bad about him wearing the same outfit? It’s not like you were dating so that you could show him off or something. He actually looked good in that outfit, despite the sunglasses. You start fidgeting with your hands as you feel the hot flush creep over your face. You’re about to pull back to give yourself air to breathe, when you see his hands come into your view, tentatively reaching for yours. Slowly approaching, waiting to see if you’ll pull back or let him hold them. When  you don’t retreat, he takes them and tugs them closer to him, giving them a kiss. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand. I thought you liked this outfit, you were the one who recommended it to me.” At his confusion, you lean your forehead on the table in between your arms.

“I know, It’s just… I know you don’t have anything else, but I would love for us to match outfits once in a while. Or at least have pictures of you where I can actually tell what date it is from.” When he doesn’t say anything, you raise your head and look at him. His brows are furrowed and he’s looking at you as if you’d grown a second head. He opens his mouth and closes it again. He tries again.

“What?”

At that moment, the waitress comes over with your drinks and sweets, the smell of coffee bringing life back to you. You decide you want this to be a nice memory, to have this aroma etched into your heart as something positive. So you settle back on your chair and square your shoulders. “Nevermind. We can talk later, but right now… I want us to enjoy this.” You look at him. He wants to say more, but he nods and follows your lead. 

Without much effort you fall into easy chat, talk about your week, share pictures you’ve taken from various things, giggles and smiles making their way back to you. Your heart is full. Once the bill is paid, you decide to call a car to take him home because of all the shopping bags. 

“Come home with me today.” He says, reaching out to hold your hand, rubbing his thumb on the back of it. “Stay the night.” There’s not much to discuss whenever he acts like this, initiating touches and being straightforward with his wishes. It melts your heart away and keeps shadows at bay. You nod as the car arrives, the way back making both of you realise how tired you were. 

Back at his house, he asks you to follow him to the bedroom. He leaves the bags on his bed and makes his way towards his closet, as he motions for you to do the same. You’re turning away from the bed when you notice him spreading the closet doors apart. Your mouth hangs open at the interior: jackets, jeans, casual wear, smart wear, sports wear. A large amount of clothes in various colours, most of which you’ve chosen today. “This- I-” You fumble with your words as you stare at him, arms crossed, satisfied smile on his lips, and back to the closet. You walk over to him and playfully punch him in the chest. “I thought you had no other clothes but work related ones.” 

He slightly tilts his head as he looks at you and chuckles at your accusation. “My salary allows me to be generous when it comes to clothing. Now, about what I’m wearing right now.” He looks down at himself, brow furrowing a little. “I thought you liked it, you  were the one who chose it after all. And I wanted to make you happy.” The last sentence comes out almost whispered, and you notice the sudden proximity. He cups your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. You don’t recall who started the kiss, maybe you both leaned in, or maybe you were starving for something sweeter than the cake you ate today at the café. Your breaths mingle, and you taste strawberry shortcake on his tongue. You stay like that for a while not wanting to separate, but not wanting to go further yet. 

You’re forced to pull away to catch your breath, pressing your forehead to his chin. “I really wanted to see you match my outfits, you know?” Or maybe now you could choose for him.

He laughs, pulling you tighter. You feel the sound reverberate on his chest. “How about you take these off and we can choose something for me to wear next time?”