The Locals

She was having wine; he was sipping beer from the bottle.
“I’d like to take you home,” he said.
“Why?” she asked.
“I think you’re hot. I think you’re very hot,” he offered, his tone more matter-of-fact than inviting.
She was flattered, whether that was his intention or not, she was flattered, it had been a long time since she had heard those words. 
“It’s been a while,” she said. Just beginning to feel the warming effects of her wine.
“I can relate,” he commiserated. “But, there’s no time like the present.”
“These places change,” she took a look around. “I don’t remember them being so small, and the bathroom’s just awful.” Her nose scrunched and it made him smile.
“Wanna go?” he ventured.
“I do,” she declared.
“I do – too,” he agreed, his anticipation was palpable.
They rode in the car in silence until he took her hand. 
“You sure about this?” he studied her face. “We can go someplace else…”
“I’m sure,” she managed.
“There’s plenty of places,” he said. “It’s not like you’re some Cinderella.”
“That would make you some handsome prince?” She retorted with a smirk.
“Maybe,” he shrugged with a grin.
“I’m sure,” she insisted and looked out the window at the street-lit suburban homes and secretly wondered what couple-ish things were going on in them, if anything at all.
They pulled into the driveway, stepped out of the car and up to the porch. She hesitated at the door.
He cupped her chin and gently kissed her.
“Will you pay the babysitter and walk her home,” she asked?
“I will,” he assured. “Will you stay awake until I get back?” he asked.
“I will,” she promised.
“Do you love me?” he ventured.
“I do,” she stated with no hesitation.
“Do you love me?” she asked.
“I do,” he vowed.
“Check the kids,” he requested.
They let themselves in and returned to the predictable, the mundane, the comfortable.
Date night success. 
 

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