bluevalentine

I made a cake for work.

I carefully sliced two tiny pieces to take with me to Wayne's in the afternoon. That way I could play it off as "leftovers" instead of "hey! It's valentines day. here's some pastry!"

So, he calls around 1pm. I tell him I'm getting off work soon and would be there around 3.

I come over. He finally has internet at home. I help him with some stuff and for some reason, everything he said or I said made the other one laugh. So far, a good afternoon.

I finish reinstalling the drivers for his video card (yeah...geek girl to the rescue) and he then asks me to come keep him company while he folds his laundry.

We're in his room and all of a sudden, we are folding his socks together.

We drive to get some dinner, come home and watch Miami Vice and eat our Church's fried chicken. We crack jokes all the way through it.

I get up to go to the bathroom and come back into the living room to find he's served up the two pieces of cake I brought.

I let him keep my lighter and he lets me take home some DVDs. He offers me his jacket to wear out in the cold Feburary air while he walks me to my car. A hug later, I am driving home.

While I've always liked being around him, this is the first time I havent felt nervous around him. I know the cupboard he keeps his plates in. He now calls me over to look over his shoulder at a book he's reading to me instead of pointing on the page and handing me the text. We are comfortable.

And that scares me to death.