Chapter 1: Introduction
It's Valentine's Day. A subtle blend of incense and laundry fills the room, reminding me of Derek's and my little bubble of familiarity. Snack wrappers accompany my half-read, anxiety-inducing textbooks on the shared messy desk that doubles as my writing desk and our dining table. Today's Valentine's menu: Roasted potatoes and a salad kit bought hastily after class.
Soft jazz crackles from our vintage record player while outside, bitterly cold early spring wind shrieks.
I wrap myself tighter in my favorite bulky sweater, thumbing through a Woolf novel. I have a love-hate relationship with Virginia. She's intense, yet poetic. Much like someone else I know.
Derek strolls in, dark curls disheveled, holding two cans of generic soda—his notion of festiveness. "I hope you enjoy your sad Valentine's Day dinner." He attempts to joke, handing me a soda before depositing the other one on the desk.
The can briefly blocks his face, but not the slight sadness in his brown eyes visible as the soda settles. After a moment of silence, I look up from my book and sigh. “Don’t you hate this day, Derek? Being alone? Just a little?” I can see him staring across the room, seemingly aimlessly.
‘It is what it is,’ he responds. ‘ It’s just a random day celebrating romantic love and while I appreciate the concept, it’s never amounted to much for me.” His resigned brush-off doesn’t convince me.
I’ve known Derek too long—better than anyone else in the world. I know how deeply that “I’m fine” persona truly hides his quiet longing for something real.
I set my book aside and carefully choose my next words. “What if there was a way to make this Valentine's Day an experience we both remember in a good way?”
He looks at me quizzically, eyes narrowing, and tilts his head just slightly. Curious but uncertain.
Derek's eyes take on an intrigued glint that makes my heart race, but I maintain my composure. His gaze lingers on me as an awkward attempt at a smile plays on his lips. "Alright, Emily. You've picked my curiosity. What do you have in mind?"
His question hangs in the air, filling me with both excitement and trepidation. I could turn back now, let him go back to being annoyingly single, laughing at his own bad jokes and indulging in unhealthy takeout. Would this be just another night then?
I hesitate, deliberating if I should voice the thoughts I had held captive in my heart for years.
Suddenly, I realize that this yearning to bridge the distance between us has engulfed me like a stage spotlight. I can't look away, nor can I pretend that I don't feel the heat on my face.
Dipping my chin slightly, I secretly breathe in a reassuring lungful of air. He's my dearest friend, after all - and confiding in him seems like the only viable answer.
"Derek," I say slowly, an air of hesitance etching my words. I untangle my fingers from the soft wool of my sweater sleeves, drawing strength from the familiar sensation. He offers me his undivided attention as his body shifts on the worn couch, all of his focus seemingly reserved for me.
Perhaps I'm emboldened by that fact, but I know now's the moment to lay it all bare. Our shared history makes me believe, if not wholeheartedly, then on an instinctual level, that he is a safe harbor.
"I don't like seeing you sad... and well.. I could give you what you're looking for. I know I'm your best friend, but I'm also a girl." I rush on, overcome by shyness and adrenaline. "A girl who knows you. Intimately."
My words linger between us, thick in the air. His eyes widen; he blinks, then blinks again. It seems like an eternity passes between us, suspended in that moment of disbelief.
Finally, he seems to find his voice. "Emily, are you saying what I think you're saying?" His voice, restrained and gruff, breaks the silence.
"Y-yes, I-if you want me to . .
you know." I bite my bottom lip, feeling all sorts of vulnerable.
He narrows his eyes, searching my face with an intensity that makes my cheeks burn. "Are you sure you want to do this? Because once we cross that line, there's no going back. You know that."
His words, spoken with utmost sincerity, ring in my ears. It's true; things might change forever. But beneath the heavy weight of anxiety and uncertainty, there's a deeper, more potent feeling that I can't ignore. I want this. I want him.
"I mean, I've never done it before..." I add quietly, trying to manage the vulnerability swelling up inside me. I hold his gaze, hoping he could read the sincerity written all over my face.
A slow, not-quite-a-smile curls his lips; he seems to be gathering his thoughts. "Would you want me Derek?" I ask softly, holding his gaze. "To, you know, do it together, be each other's first?" I can't help but tremble slightly when I say the words, revealing my inexperience. Despite my anxiety, I am also invigorated by the sheer sensation of possibility.
Derek's lips quirk slightly at the edges in an almost-smile. The intensity in his eyes doesn't fade, but they soften as his glance sweeps gently across my face before finally he speaks. "I've always respected you, Emily.
And yes, the idea has crossed my mind more than once."
His voice trails off, leaving the rest unsaid, as if we were two dancers in a carefully choreographed ballet. Time seems to lose all meaning while he processes the new reality materializing before us.
"But this is a big step, Em." He inches back, holding the chair's edge as the words escape in a shaky whisper. I can see him grappling with the concept and imagining how it might change everything between us.
"It'll be okay.." I take his hand and let it to my small clothed breast.
"Do they feel nice? They're kinda small heh." I joke , but my voice trembles with anticipation. I rub my thumb across his knuckles, and his gaze flicks up to meet mine, eyes twinkling.
"They're perfect. Just like you."
My heart races; I hadn't expected such a sincere compliment, let alone one that makes me feel incredibly desired.
Derek stands and moves closer to me. I feel his breath against my cheek, and his hand traces my jaw, sending waves of pleasure through my body.
"Derek .
." I whisper, breath hitching as his fingers gently brush the skin of my neck, eliciting goosebumps. My heart drums wildly in my chest like a timid little bird demanding release. Anticipation coils low in my belly, and I can't help the whimper that escapes me.
"Shh . " he soothes, leaning in so close I can feel his lips hovering above my ear. "Let me take care of you."
A shudder ripples through me, barely concealed, and completely foreign.