As the bus hummed to a stop, the night air hit them with a soft, suburban chill. The streets were quieter now, with only a few cars passing and the faint buzz of crickets filling the background. It was just after 6:30 PM, the sky already fading into dusky purples and pinks, the glow of the setting sun casting long shadows over the rows of neat, well-kept houses that lined the streets. The neighborhood felt peaceful, like something out of a postcard—a quiet suburban haven where everyone knew each other’s names, and the hum of everyday life was a comforting soundtrack to their walk.

The two of them stepped off the bus, and as they made their way toward the restaurant, the dim glow of streetlights guided their path, their footsteps echoing faintly on the pavement. It was a ten-minute walk, but the air was cool, and the night felt crisp in a way that made the distance pleasant. There were scattered moments of quiet between them, the gentle sound of their footsteps mixing with the far-off voices of neighbors returning home or finishing up errands.

As they reached the restaurant, a cozy, warm-lit spot nestled between a couple of other local businesses, the anticipation was almost palpable. The scent of gourmet food and fresh herbs wafted from the door, beckoning them inside. 

Devon led the way, effortlessly graceful as always. The hostess greeted them with a smile, and after a brief exchange, Devon handed over her credit card with a casual confidence. The pair was seated immediately, and as they slid into the booth, Devon’s commanding presence seemed to settle over the evening.

Without missing a beat, she gestured for Ava to sit on the inner side of the booth, her tone gentle but firm. “Ava darling, sit here,” she said with a slight smile. “So I can shield you from the rest of the restaurant.”

Ava, feeling the familiar rise of social anxiety, nodded gratefully, her shoulders relaxing just a little as she settled in. Devon always knew how to take care of her in these moments. The atmosphere around them was elegant but casual, soft lighting casting gentle glows over polished wood tables and floral arrangements. The quiet hum of conversation surrounded them, but Devon made sure Ava felt tucked away in a little cocoon of comfort.

As the waiter placed their pre-booked dishes in front of them, the aroma of freshly cooked food wafted into Ava’s senses. The rich, savory smells seemed to smother her all at once, and she swallowed, trying to push past the tightness in her chest. Every plate seemed more overwhelming than the last—delicate fish, fragrant stir-fries, and the bowl of soup that was just as intimidating as everything else.

Devon, ever attuned to Ava’s moods, immediately began serving herself with a casual smile, but Ava could hardly focus on the food. The scents alone were making her stomach churn. Her gaze flickered to her plate, and she added a single piece of fish, her hand trembling slightly as she did. The act felt so monumental, as though she was facing an obstacle she didn’t have the strength to surmount. She sighed, feeling the weight of her discomfort pressing in on her.

Noticing the shift in Ava’s mood, Devon’s voice softened, coaxing her gently. “How about you try the soup?” she suggested, her fingers brushing lightly against Ava’s hand as she slid the bowl of steaming Tom Yum toward her. “It’s more citrus than spicy or rich, which might help you feel settle your stomach a little.”

Ava hesitated, her eyes flicking between the fish on her plate and the inviting bowl of soup. Devon’s suggestion lingered in the air like a subtle offer of comfort. However Ava was not convinced. It looked too rich, too much seafood, and Ava was opposed to it. 

Ava crossed her arms and pouted, an exaggerated frown pulling at her lips as she glared at the bowl of soup in front of her. "I told you, Devon. I don’t want it," she grumbled, her mood playful but still stubborn.

Devon, however, only shook her head in mock disapproval, her lips curling into that familiar smirk that made Ava’s stomach flutter. "Poor baby," she tutted, reaching over with the spoon in hand, dipping it into the clear, fragrant broth. "Don’t you trust me?"

Ava blushed, her breath hitching as Devon moved closer, her gaze never straying from Ava’s face. "I’m fine, Devon," she insisted, though her voice was soft and hesitant, caught somewhere between defiance and desire.

Devon ignored her, leaning in slightly as she fed Ava a spoonful of soup. "Come on, just try it," she coaxed, the playful edge in her voice turning to something more tender. She watched Ava intently, her eyes darkening as she took in the sight of Ava’s lips parting, her soft gaze following the spoon. As the broth slid over her tongue, Ava’s eyes sparkled, her expression shifting from reluctance to delight.

"That’s… actually really good," Ava admitted, her voice soft, but the words felt like a small victory to Devon. "It’s different from what I expected."

Devon’s smile deepened, pride and affection glimmering in her eyes. "I thought you might like it," she said softly. "I ordered the clear soup for you because I knew the regular one would be too heavy. This way, you get the flavor without it being overwhelming."

Ava’s heart skipped at the tenderness in Devon’s tone. She leaned in, her eyes softened by genuine gratitude. "Thank you. You really are thoughtful," she said, her voice thick with emotion, and she took another sip of the soup, savoring the tangy citrus flavor that danced on her tongue.

But as soon as she set the spoon down, a small movement from Devon caught her off guard. Devon reached over with a slow, deliberate motion. She brushed the corner of Ava’s lips with her thumb, her touch gentle but charged, lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. For a moment, time seemed to stretch, the air between them thickening, their eyes locked in a silent, electric exchange.

Ava’s breath caught in her throat, and she froze, her skin prickling under the soft press of Devon’s thumb. It was a subtle gesture, so small that it might have been overlooked by anyone else, but the way Devon’s gaze held hers, the way she watched Ava so intently, made Ava’s stomach flip. The thumb that had just wiped away the trace of soup lingered for a heartbeat before Devon casually licked it off, her eyes never leaving Ava's face.

Ava’s heart pounded in her chest, and she quickly looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of the flush spreading across her cheeks. She focused on finishing the soup, trying to calm the rush of heat that had surged through her at that simple, intimate moment.

Her fingers gripped the spoon a little tighter as she carefully sipped the rest of the broth, determined not to let her lips betray her, to avoid getting any more droplets on her face. But even as she tried to focus, the memory of Devon’s touch lingered, electric and alive, a simmering undercurrent between them that couldn’t be ignored. The air felt charged with something unspoken.

Once the last spoonful of soup had been reluctantly eaten, Ava sat back in her seat, her lips curling into a pout as she pushed her plate away. Her stomach was uncomfortably full, but the guilt of the leftover food gnawed at her. She hated wasting it—especially when it had been so carefully chosen. "I can’t believe I can’t eat anymore," she grumbled, her eyes flicking to the untouched dishes that had been set aside. The scent of the food still lingered in the air, a reminder of how much she’d wanted to enjoy everything but just couldn’t.

Devon noticed the pout and smiled softly. “Don’t worry, babe," she said, a playful edge to her voice. "I’ll get it packed up for us." She waved over the staff and, with a few words, had the leftovers neatly wrapped in takeout containers.

As the staff prepared the bags, Ava slumped back in her seat, her hand gently resting on her stomach. Her earlier discomfort had turned into a tight knot, a familiar, sickly feeling that came from eating too much—especially too quickly. She glanced at the leftovers again, feeling a deep sadness over the food she had been unable to finish. "I swear, I’m going to burst," she muttered, rubbing her stomach in gentle circles.

Devon returned shortly after the staff packed the food, her presence commanding as she approached Ava, her dark eyes softening at the sight of her. She smiled warmly, but there was a touch of concern in her gaze when she saw how Ava was holding herself. “You okay, baby?” she asked, her voice smooth and comforting. When Ava didn't immediately answer, Devon leaned in, dropping her voice to a near whisper. "Are you feeling alright?"

Ava groaned slightly, her hand still on her stomach. "I think I’m gonna be sick," she admitted, her voice a little strained. "Do you think we could walk home? I just... need some air." She managed a half-hearted smile, but the discomfort in her expression was undeniable.

Devon’s face softened with affection, and the edges of her lips curved upward into a reassuring smile. "You’re lucky," she teased, a hint of mischief playing in her voice, "because I was thinking the same thing." She stood up with grace, grabbing her book bag and the takeout bags with a casual ease, and held her free hand out to Ava. "Come on, I was hoping for a late-night walk in the park anyway. It’ll help you feel better."

Ava stared at Devon’s outstretched hand for a moment, her heart fluttering at the sight. Despite her discomfort, she felt a sudden rush of warmth. Without hesitation, she took it, her fingers slipping into Devon’s with a gentle but firm squeeze. She was pulled up with ease, the movement soft yet sure as Devon guided her out of the booth and toward the exit.

The cool night air hit them as they stepped outside, the crispness of it refreshing in contrast to the stuffy atmosphere of the restaurant. Ava sighed softly, feeling the weight in her stomach begin to ease with each step. Devon's hand, warm and steady in hers, gave her a sense of calm as they walked side by side. The streetlights flickered above them, casting a soft golden glow that illuminated the quiet suburban streets. It felt like time had slowed, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and their footsteps echoing in the night.

Ava glanced at Devon, her heart racing just slightly, as she let herself be led, completely at ease yet aware of every subtle touch, every soft pull of their hands together. The world around them felt distant and muted, leaving just the two of them in the quiet night—a walk, a shared moment, the simple but intoxicating feeling of being in each other’s presence.