Herein is one of my original short stories — a work of fiction in the contemporary romance genre. Enjoy!
By: Mariecor Agravante
“To me, you are wonderful,” he said.
She laughed it off, “Am I really? Or isn’t that a line from a song?”
“It’s not a song—” he started to explain.
“Oh, but it is,” she interjected. “It’s a classic from around the time of World War II. Bei Mir Bist du Schön. It translates from the German almost word-for-word as ‘To me, you’re wonderful.’”
“You surprise me,” he smiled.
“So, it was from a song then, yes?” she looked up at him expectantly, already readying a reply for him if he gave her a confirmation.
“I didn’t intend to quote a song,” he revealed and started to notice her blush and avert her eyes. He didn’t want to have said something wrong, so he quickly added, “I was merely telling you how I view you. I didn’t mean to be unoriginal. Or…or to have this awkward moment, if it is,” he sighed.
There was a silence between them now. Both of them avoided looking at the other’s eyes out of embarrassment. And they each wondered who would speak first.
Just then a voice crackled in the PA system: “Battle stations! All parties have five minutes to report to battle stations!”
They both looked at each other, knowing what that meant. Here they were at a gaming convention, on two opposing teams. Was there chemistry between them? Was there potential for there to be something between them? Would it be ruined if one’s team beat the other? Could they even concentrate and not let down their teams, yet not ruin their chances of pursuing what was brewing between them?
He decided to man up and make a move before the moment slipped away. “I’d like to meet up with you later, after the games. You can tell me more about World War II songs, if you’d want to share…”
She smiled, relieved he hadn’t lost his interest. “I’d like that, yes.”
He knew he had to be chivalrous and not make it anymore awkward for her. With her liking World War II songs, she could very well be old-fashioned. He asked her gently, “So, would you like to exchange numbers? Or, would you like for us to agree to meet for ice cream at Baskin & Robbins next door sometime today?”
She liked his approach. He wasn’t brash or full of machismo, but straightforward. And his way of asking her out was rather open-ended that she felt safe. “Yes, Baskin & Robbins sounds yummy. How about after our match? And, exchanging numbers sounds like a great idea, in case something comes up that would make us have to reschedule.”
“Here, let me call your cellphone now, so you can see my phone number is really mine,” he offered.
She agreed. And, when they both had completed saving each other’s data onto their respective cellphone directory, they smiled at each other, more at ease with one another.
“So, Baskin & Robbins after our match, yeah?” He inquired softly.
“Yeah, sounds good,” she smiled as she offered a handshake to seal the agreement.
He clasped her hands a bit longer as he gently squeezed it.
“Alright, you two, that’s enough hand-kissing. Our match is about to start,” his teammate interrupted, trying to pull him away towards his team huddle.
“Hand-kissing!?! You know there’s no fraternizing with the enemy allowed!” Her teammate teased as she was, in turn, steered towards her team table.
Hand-kissing. The term brought visions of lips interlocking rather than just hands interlaced with one another.
She does have nice lips, he thought as he rejoined his team with his teammate.
I wouldn’t mind him kissing me, she began to daydream as she headed towards her gaming group with her teammate.