#higu

you balk. pause in your tracks on the fairway. of course it isn't. but, also, of course it is. he's your hot foreign coworker who's never been to a southern usa county fair. it's a date if he's having fun. if he isn't having fun, you're just a real good samaritan helping out the japanese lawyer who emigrated to your shared law firm. how do you tell him that without explaining those idiosyncrasies?

"uh… not really? do you want it to be?"

he shrugs. shrugs. at your very awkward advances. the cur.

"i wouldn't be against it."

oh. oh, okay. you start walking again, letting him fall into step beside you as you make the curve onto the second line of rides along the fairway. the whole place is a cacophony of noises and smells; the kettle corn is really a welcome change from the horse manure and burning gas of poorly maintained attractions. WAIT.

"you're not against it??"

hiromi looks over at you, eyes still appearing bored, but there's an uptick in his expressiveness, the slightest crook to his mouth that you rarely see.

"yes. you're attractive. and you're kind to me, inside and outside the office. i feel comfortable around you."

"but it doesn't, like, matter to you?"

now it's hiromi's turn to stop walking. he puts one hand in his pocket, the other gesticulating calmly as he speaks like he's on the stand, not a few centimeteres deep in powdered sugar coated dirt.

"of course it matters. but i wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable if my feelings weren't returned."

you look away, tap your finger against your shorts. nervous habit.

"and if they were?"

he steps forward, a little too close, takes a piece of popcorn from your cheap plasticine bag, and places it in his mouth. crunch, chew, swallow. the blaring top 40 hits by the tractor pull seem to get quieter.

"i'd like to ride the ferris wheel. i wouldn't want to if it were platonic. hence my hesitation."

"oh." you say it aloud this time. "and you want to, uh… kiss on top?"

he smirks. you've never seen such a thing on his face before. it's cute, and it pisses you off a little.

"let's not get ahead of ourselves."

later, as you ride to the top on the rickety old wheel, feet mere centimeters from the edge of the gondola, you look down at his shoes. not comfortable sandals like yours, or even tennis shoes for the rough earth. wing tips.

"why are you wearing those to the fair?"

"i have ugly feet."

"how can you have ugly anything?"

and then he kisses you. maybe to shut you up, maybe because what you said was endearing, you don't know. just that one moment you're incredulous, the next you're… something else. stomach aflutter, eyes closed, hand half reaching towards him like a silly little statue. it's too much for someone of your age to be feeling, too high school. you break away, a bit of a pant in your voice.

"you just-"

"sorry."

"no. no, don't be sorry, it just-"

"surprised you?"

"… yeah. yeah, that."

hiromi grins. grins! the bastard!

"would a second one surprise you?"

"no, of course n-"

it does. especially when he wraps his thick fingers around the back of your head and pulls you in closer, no longer sampling, but tasting. you meet him where you can, your own hand grasping his button up, which you quickly realize is actually held together by clasps when one pops and your fingers touch his undershirt.

"don't get fresh," he chides, taking your hand and lacing your fingers. the fair feels decidedly far away. "it's only a first date."

"i wasn't-! it was an accident!"

hiromi grimaces, just for a moment, and reclasps the shirt. "walmart. it was a novelty. should've known."

you laugh. hiromi smiles. his eyes are still critical, but you've decided you like them that way. "i can show you the real mid-tier stuff next weekend. if you want?"

he looks up at you, and something akin to gratitiude flickers in his gaze.

"you know, I should be the one to plan the second date. it's only fair."

you hesitate. would that be a date? i mean, technically, yeah, maybe.

"i wasn't really thinking of it that way. i would just be helping you out."

the ferris wheel begins to descend. hiromi looks chagrined. you've seen more emotions on his face in the last 10 minutes than you have in the entire month you've known him. it makes you backpedal.

"that is to say!! not that i wouldn't want to go on another date with you! just that i wouldn't consider clothes shopping a date."

he relaxes, just a fraction, though you notice one of his hands white-knuckling the safety bar.

"if i took you to dinner after?"

"that… would change things."

"hmm."

the ride screeches to a halt. hiromi, ever the gentleman, climbs out first, then holds out a hand to help you out. he waves to the bored teenaged operator in thanks, then the two of you continue your descent down the fairway. his hand never leaves yours.

"i know little about what you like to eat. besides kettle corn, of course." he starts, hovering by one of the prize-based attractions for a moment before continuing, "in fact, I know little other than the fact that I like you very much. and, now, that you're an above average kisser."

you blush, squeeze his hand timidly. "thank you."

"the pleasure is mine, believe me." he stops between two rides, out of the way of other guests, and keeps his fervent gaze on yours. "i'd like to plan our second date, and be certain it's something you'll enjoy. consider this a formal request."

you chuckle, shaking your head, though not in denial. "no need for the formalities, hiromi. i accept. i'd love to do this again."

he hands you his phone, already unlocked on some fair use wallpaper of an open field. "go ahead and put your number in. emailing about things like this is too slow, and, frankly, unprofessional."

you snort, but put your number in anyway. "you're being goofy. don't be nervous, it's just me."

he smiles as you give his phone back, and stars your contact without a second thought. after sliding the device back in his pocket, he takes your hand again, and begins walking as if nothing of import had happened.