If you could have a perfect dream date what would you do?
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To have a date in the first place...lol. I'd like something where you can talk without many distractions but also in a comfortable environment. I'm a simple person, it can be a museum or just a road trip or an aquarium. I think you can tell a lot about someone by just observing and talking to them in these settings. Hopefully one day I'll get to try it out. (I'm way to old to still have so much social anxiety but I do and it always seems strange to people).
A theme park, how fun would that be?? go to a theme part with your s/o and ride rides and eat snacks and have fun like?? yes please
The one I had with my partner. We took a walk in my town while chatting, saw the centrum, walked in the park, sat in a couple of places to have a drink. It was really fun and let us get to know each other very well. Also walking makes things less awkward for me compared to being in a table looking at each other.
I'm really into the enemies to lovers trope. Keeps me interested.
I sneak out to meet them on a purely platonic basis. They wanted to parlez because our rivalry had reached its boiling point. We meet at the top of the parking garage by my house, overlooking the river and the small city I call home. They looked carved from. marble in the starlight and I soon realise this is going to be more difficult than I thought. They're leaning against their black 1970 SuperSport, twirling a silver ring on their middle finger, cobalt eyes focused on the alley below. Tattoos peek out from the corners of their black tee-shirt, and an obnoxiously attractive smirk plays across their face when they spot me.
We immediately start to argue and it gets heated. They cornner me against the wall of the parking garage and in a moment of mutual weakness, we kiss. As soon as we realize what we're doing, we pull away and glare at each other. Then, their face morphs into a bemused grin,
"I have something I want to show you." They say, pulling me toward the SS.
We ride into the night, heading southeast until we're cruising along the coast. The June night air has a glorious chill to it and the air smells like the Atlantic. And they smell like mint and freedom.
They pull onto a well-hidden side street and park on the edge of the forest. With a quiet, tense enthusiasm, they lead me through the trees to a tiny stretch of sand, only about a quarter mile long, nestled into the rocks, just beyond the Maine wood.
They pull out a blanket and a bag of Dove chocolates, and lays it down on the sand. We spend the entire night just talking and laughing and kissing, and when we finally begin to see the sun over the ocean, they lead me back to the Chevelle, and put their hand on my thigh as I doze in the passenger seat.
They buy me waffles, and take me home before anybody notices I was gone. I wake that afternoon to find a single black beauty rose on my window sill, so I know I wasn't dreaming.
