He walks in hesitantly, staring from behind the door for just a second. When our eyes meet, he gives a tender smile, his eyes crinkle at the outer corners. I return this smile, hoping my eyes are expressing the right emotion.
He tells me his name as if I don't already know as he reaches his hand out to me, palm up. I rest my hand in his, telling him my name as well. His lips ghost over my knuckles as he maintains eye contact.
"Im sure you're busy." Curt, too straight perhaps? He stiffens. "It's a pleasure to meet with you, I am happy to wait for you."
"It's a pleasure to meet with you, too, I felt every second I was late." He motions to sit, so I do.
"Alexander," I say, near unnaturally, nervous to call him informally, "Why do you want to marry me?" He takes a breath, exhales a small laugh.
"Your father makes it sound like you're as interested as me, which is to say, 'not at all.'" I nod, turning my gaze away, rubbing my sweaty hands on my thighs. "I think that works well," he continues, "Only, do you want to fall in love?"
Silence falls between us.
The answer is "No! God! No!" However that's not "correct" I think. Everyone says so, atleast. Before the minute hand clicks, "No, I have no interest."
When I meet his gaze next, his shoulders have fallen, and his smile grown. "I, too, have never had interest. In fact, I feel like romance is something that everyone must be performing. If we marry, we'll never have to again find an excuse for being loveless. Does... that sound nice? I'll be your excuse, and you mine. No romance, unless somehow is grows?" His shoulders rise and fall. I feel stumped, my own shoulders more relaxed than I knew they could be.
"You mean... I won't have to lie?"
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