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The first time you saw him, you openly gawked. Granted, hidden away behind a laptop, he didn’t notice you (and neither did anyone else), thank heavens, because he was huge, and he dwarfed the other men in the small coffee shop hilariously. His arms and legs were long and gangly and his shoulders slouched.
A shame, really.
He would be even more striking if he stood up straight.
It was about ten in the morning and the little shop buzzes with business. People were in for a quiet moment before work or to meet up with their friends and a quick glance around the place confirmed that your table was the only one with an unoccupied seat.
You sank down in your chair and began typing gibberish furiously on a blank page, attempting to look too busy for an interruption.
Alas, the effort was for naught.
“Hi. Can I sit here?” You didn’t even have to look up to know that it was him. Despite being intimidated by him and not particularly wanting an awkward conversation to start your day, you found yourself smiling and giving a bright ‘sure!’
And, boy, are you glad you did.
A year later finds you and Lev in a very happy relationship after some months of first getting to know one another.
You sit on the counter as you watch Lev do his thing. He loves to cook, you discovered, and he absolutely loves it when you ‘help’. (Loose translation: sit there and keep him company.) You let out a soft hum as he pushed a tiny wild blueberry into your mouth with his thumb. It bursts when you bite down on it and the juice floods your mouth, pouring the strong flavor over your taste buds.
You nod and he fills tiny tart crusts with them (handmade delicately by the normally oafish him yesterday). Then he drizzles a thin ribbon of local wildflower honey over them to offer sweetness. When he’s finished, he licks the spoon to double-check the flavor and quality and, deeming it good, he dips the spoon back in the jar, then pokes it into your mouth. The honey melts against your tongue and you smile blissfully, though well-aware of the indirect kiss. Very aware of the indirect kiss.
Finally, the finishing touch; goat’s milk cream whipped up with a splash of vanilla and a spoonful of lemon zest. Each tartlet gets a generous dollop dropped rustically by a spoon and prodded off the utensil with his index finger. When he finishes, he moves to lick his finger, but you’re faster and you grab his hand and suck the cream off his finger. His digit is rough against your tongue as it slips back out of your mouth, every trace of cream gone.
Lev stares, briefly speechless, but he quickly recovers and speaks.
“I didn’t get to taste it again,” he whispers, enjoying the silence in his sister’s kitchen and trying to keep it.
You reach over and swipe the last streaks of cream out of the bowl with your finger, and you can see that he thinks you’re going to give it to him off your digit.
But you don’t.
Instead, you take a steadying breath and smudge it over your lips, and you see his Adam’s apple bob in surprise.
You and he have not yet shared a kiss; it’s reasonable that you’re both nervous.
He moves closer to you and you close your eyes in preparation.
Velvet lips touch to yours, making your heart flutter violently. His tongue sweeps across your mouth and he pulls away to swallow. It was over pretty quickly and pretty wetly, but your heart pounds in your chest.
“You’re an amazing cook,” you breathe, hardly able to breathe after the daring first almost-kiss, and you slide your hands up his chest to cup behind his neck. Pulling him close until your foreheads touch, you whisper, “Kiss me, Lev?”
Lev cards his fingers through your (h/c) hair and just barely tugs, getting you to tilt your face up toward his. Once again, his lips touch yours softly and they lock into a delectable rhythm. Soft sucks sound in the kitchen and it makes you feel a little self-conscious, but that thought flies out the window when his tongue presses past your lips.
A zap of static crackles in your chest, causing your breath to catch and goosebumps to raise on your arms. His tongue curls around yours and yours curves up against it.
Who knew this guy could kiss!?
Faintly in the outside world, you hear Lev’s sister, Alisa, ask for a tart and Lev pulls away to grant her permission. Then he’s back against you, kissing you deeply and sweetly, and Alisa makes a comment about how ‘he’s really going for it’ and how it’s ‘probably the best kiss I’ve ever seen. Wow.’