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You are not one for selfies, Teo realizes early on. It’s not that he minds—he thinks, regardless of the person on the other end of the line, he would have fallen in love with them. The one wisp of a hint you give to your appearance is a change in your profile picture a few weeks after you both started chatting, swapping from that silly little bird assistant to a picture of the back of your head, just a hint of your face revealed from how it was turned.
As much as he peppers your feed with his own daily photos of near everything he encounters (and himself, of course), you return the favor in your own way.
‘Street tacos,’ reads one message, where he glimpses carefully manicured fingernails in plain white polish cradling a container with said tacos. Another of you holding a fruity drink with a swirl of whipped cream on top showcases the delicate expanse of your hand, soft details of silver intricately decorating nails colored red. He knows you’re full aware of his love for food, so this is your way of showing your own daily life to him.
When he inquired one day, your response was simple, ‘I like doing my nails. It’s relaxing.’
He eats up every picture, memorizing the lines he glimpses decorating your palm in some shots, the curve of your fingers and thinking about how your hand would fit into his.
One day, when he’s out grabbing lunch at some food stall, he half-thinks the heat is making him hallucinate when he hears—faintly—a familiar voice. It couldn’t be, of course, what with how far it seemed the two of you lived from each other.
Teo steps out of line before he can stop himself, looking through the crowds on the street. It’s a busy street, especially for the lunchtime rush, and the many carts and restaurants in the vicinity always end up crowded. Teo pushes himself to stand on toes, using his height to look above as many heads as possible. The bustle makes it hard to hear or see anything, really, and he wonders if he just lost his place in the long line for nothing.
But then he hears a loud laugh, distinct, one that he knew from countless phone calls and voicemails (that he had saved, because what else could he do?). He dreamed of your voice countless times, and it was a wonder he had yet to confess a word to you over text. It wasn’t that he was afraid—though he was—but that it didn’t feel right. His eyes avert to the direction of the laugh, and he spots two people step to the side of the street where they could settle on the edge of a planter.
Teo has to weave his way through the crowds, finds himself standing several long strides away as he spots one of the people pull a phone out from a bag to snap a picture. Even from a distance, he can spot highly contrasted black fingernails on hands juggling both a phone and a small container of food. In his back pocket, his phone buzzes, and he pulls it out to spot a message from you.
‘Steamed buns!!’ it reads, and he see your thumb curled around the edge of the container, nail painted in black. It’s in that moment that he thinks he might finally spontaneously combust because of you.
He isn’t even sure how to respond, how to make this moment connect to what he sees before him. He looks from the phone in his hand to the person seated mere seconds away from him, enjoying a pork bun in the company of some guy he had never seen before.
You look beautiful, he thinks, taking in the sight of your face for the first time. There’s a light in your eyes he can spot even from where he stands, and your smile seems as radiant as he imagined in his head. He finds himself thankful for the heat of the day because it cause you to push all of your hair away from your face, leaving him able to better admire you.
He feels creepy, standing back and staring as he is. He also feels jealousy bubble in his stomach, seeing you smiling and laughing next to another man like you do with him. The phone vibrates in his hand, dinging with the cute little tone he set for you.
‘Teo, have you had lunch yet?’
‘Make sure 2 eat!’
He’s a little surprised his hands shake so much as he types a response.
‘r those from bao bar??’
Teo can see the way you freeze up while looking at your phone. After a moment, you stand up, clambering atop the planter to peer over the heads of the slowly thinning afternoon crowds. It feels like time slows to a crawl as your eyes scan around, before they finally settle on him. Your surprised look is priceless, and he must look like a fish out of water with the way he gapes at you.
You jump down and practically run across the way, closing the distance in a heartbeat.
“Teo?” you say, but you know him already. You had seen his face countless times through the many selfies he sent. Asking was pointless.
He breathes out your name almost reverently.
“You live in this city?” you ask. “You never said…”
“You didn’t either,” he says after a moment. It’s a struggle to form words, what with you so close finally.
You laugh, and hearing it up close and in person is an entirely different experience than over the phone. He thinks this alone is giving him enough serotonin to last a lifetime.
“I don’t live here!” You gesture back to the person you left sitting behind, who is now gathering up both your and his belongings. “He does. He’s my cousin.”
Teo feels very dumb for being jealous, but in his defense, the two of you looked nothing alike. Your cousin finally comes over and hands off your possessions to you.
You hold up a finger to Teo and turn to talk with your cousin. Teo catches a ‘rain check?’ and ‘be back tonight’ before you send him off with a wave, leaving the two of you alone.
“If I knew you lived here, I would’ve tried to visit sooner,” you say. The joy on your face is indescribable, and Teo think you’re the most radiant person he’s ever gazed upon. “Teo? Is something on my face…?”
He clears his throat. “Uh, no.”
After countless times dreaming of this day, it finally happens, and he can’t stop staring. He catches the amused look you shoot him as you fold your arms across your chest.
“Do I look that ghastly in person?” you ask after a moment. Teo shakes his head. No, no, no, you were more beautiful than he could ever have imagined.
He realizes too late he said it aloud when your eyes widen and your mouth goes slack a little. He might actually combust now, he thinks, feeling the heat rise to his head. You tuck a stray strand of hair away from your face, painted nails glinting in the bright sunlight as you shift your gaze to the side shyly. He’s used to the you who is far more brazen over messages, able to tease him relentlessly, but he thinks this side of you is just as adorable.
“W-well,” you say, several painfully awkward moments later. “I think you’re very handsome. But, um, beyond that… my day’s just cleared up and I’m still pretty hungry… so if you’re free…”
Teo is elated. He wants to tell you he loves you right there, wants to scoop you into his arms and yell to the world how he feels for you.
But that can wait, he decides, even as his heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest like some creature out of a horror film. Before he can even think of what he’s doing, he grabs onto your hand, finally able to touch what he had stared at for so long. You stiffen at the contact, but don’t pull away, fingers instead curling around his hand. It’s everything he wanted, he decides as he leads you along the street.