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"I do," he says quietly and continues eating.
We clear the plates, returning to the relaxed banter of earlier, ignoring talk of the real world.
"About yesterday," says Dylan as I empty my third glass of wine.
Oh, nicely played, he starts on me when I'm more 'relaxed'. "Yesterday doesn't matter. Forget it."
"Yesterday matters to me, because I upset you. Can I explain?" I shrug and top up my glass. "I'm selfish, spoiled, and always get what I want."
"Nice line in self-deprecation, Dylan."
"Can you listen for once, instead of playing word games with me?"
I make a zipping motion across my lips and he gives a tiny shake of his head. "I wanted to prove to myself that I could be different to the selfish, spoiled guy I became—the one who takes what he wants and doesn't give a fuck about someone else's feelings. That's why I stopped. Not because I didn’t want to… continue."
He pauses and after a few moments I realise he's waiting for a response.
"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm not the normal kind of girl you meet, and I’d tell you to stop. Or are you telling me you couldn't stop yourself?"
Dylan grips his wine glass, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "No," he says darkly. "Never."
"This is funny, Dylan. You're talking as if you want to protect my honour. I'm not a virgin, I'm perfectly aware of what I'm doing and what I want."
I blush at his slow smile. "What you want?"
"I didn't mean..." But the shallow breathing has started again.
Reaching a hand across the table, Dylan rubs his thumb across the back, shooting familiar sensations up my arm. "You do weird things to me, and I want to get to know you to figure out why."
I run my finger around the rim of the glass, defences pierced so soon. "Alright. Take me on a date."
The grin that lights up Dylan's face and my world appears. "Awesome, thank you."
I slip my hand from under his and return to my meal.
