Shades of Black and White

"Let's see how long it takes for me to talk you into coming back to my place with me after getting something to eat, and then we'll really see who is more stubborn."

"In that case, I'll have the check please," I gush out under my breath, mainly being playful. I think.

Christian gives me an intense, serious look as he leans forward in his seat towards me. "Check?" he repeats with raised brows, taken aback.

I don't think he knows I'm teasing. My cheeks flush with heat as a short laugh escapes me. "I was just kidding about that," I mutter awkwardly, squeezing my fingers together beneath the table. "I truly am ravenous after our little outing to find me a car."

Christian leans back in his chair, getting the joke at last. He presses his lips together, suddenly seeming solemn. A little disappointed over it being a joke too, maybe?

Things become a bit stilted and quiet where we both concentrate on what to order on the menu. My mind is whirling. Damn, did he want to leave already? Was he hoping I truly wanted the check so that we could leave early? Have I put my foot in my mouth already?

After picking out something nice to order, I peek up at him through my lashes while reaching for my glass, taking in another slow sip of the wine. I feel so drawn to him. I feel like I've never been attracted to anyone before, until now, which is ultimately true; In school, at University, there was no boy I had felt even remotely attracted to. Now I'm learning what it must feel like to be attracted to someone, emotionally, physically, sexually. It's mind-blowing to the point where I could just sit here, admiring him all evening. God, he's gorgeous. How do people even possibly act normal around their soul mates, or anyone they find so attractive in general?

He glances up at me without warning and I deliberately glance away, down at the red liquid in my glass, my cheeks getting hit with warmth again. Why do I have to feel so shy?

"Red," Christian says out of nowhere, a hint of amusement in his tone. I smile to myself. I get a feeling this will be a reoccurring game between us, stating colors. I wonder if all newly color-seeing people do this or if its just us. Surely, they would, as a way to cope with sensory overload.

"What?" I ask nervously, peeking up at him again.

"Your cheeks," he explains, and his grey eyes are alight with something similar to both humor and appreciation. "Your cheeks are a lovely shade of red." I smile at him nervously, despite how strangely difficult it seems to maintain his gaze for some reason. Beneath his gaze right now, I feel weirdly... tingly. Glowing. "Are you blushing right now?" He's making fun of me, I think.

"No." I scramble for something to use as a valid excuse. "It's just... hot in here."

"What are you thinking?" he asks quietly, curiously.

What am I thinking? God, how am I supposed to even answer that? Why does he want to know?

"I'm thinking that the salmon sounds pretty delicious," I say, off the top of my head.

He shakes his head slightly, a small amused smile trembling his lips. "You know that wasn't what I meant, though... I agree, the salmon does sound mouthwatering the way they described it on the menu." He clears his throat in a deliberate and obvious way, looking down at his menu again. "Pink, juicy fillet salmon..." He begins to read, making it sound even more delicious by his voice alone. "Lovingly, crisply glazed in a balsamic soy ginger dressing." I'm not entirely sure what he is trying to do, but whatever it is, it's strangely working. I feel as though I'm breaking out in a heat rash when he lifts his head, returning his gaze to mine. "So you're thinking the salmon sounds delicious, yet your blushing?"

I rest an elbow on the table, pressing my palm to my cheek. He's right; My skin is too hot, too flushed. But I'd rather he think something else than having to admit to him that I was ogling him, that I was admiring his attractiveness, that I feel somehow unusually taken by him. Something tells me he isn't going to let it go right now, though. He's enjoying teasing me; He's having too much fun with it. And maybe I'm enjoying it, too?

He's admirably straight-faced as he stares deep into my eyes. "I don't know," he mutters, scratching his chin with his fingers quickly. "Usually people don't blush over just salmon, Anastasia?"

A giggle threatens to escape my throat as I press my lips together tight to stifle a smile. "Like I just said, it's hot in here. That's why I seem to look as though I'm blushing."

"Are you sure that's it?" He sounds hopeful, like he's hoping I'll say its something else.

No, I'm blushing because I just don't want you to know I've been admiring you. "Yes, I'm pretty sure that's just it, Christian."

He glances away from me for a moment, deep in thought. His hands move to his wine glass as his fingers play with the stem distractedly. When he finally meets my gaze again, that mirth is still there. "I'm still not convinced that's it. There has to be another reason."

"Oh really?" I laugh, unable to help it. "And what other reason could there be?"

"Multiple reasons, but... salmon isn't one of them, I don't think." His eyes search my face earnestly, the corners of his mouth twitching. He's trying hard to suppress a smile. "There's two things." He pauses to take a quick sip of his own wine, and then he licks his lips, moistening them. "Usually, someone blushes either because they're embarrassed or..." He stops meaningfully, reeling me in. He's got me hooked, waiting for it.

"Or what, Christian?" I ask, playing along. "What's the other reason someone usually blushes?"

"Or maybe, just maybe, they're... thinking dirty thoughts? Is that what you're doing? Thinking dirty?"

My heart seems to stop dead still with beating at his playful, careless comment. His eyes remain on mine boldly, shining with playfulness. Wow. So I wasn't exactly thinking dirty about him, but I was admiring him. How can he do that? How can he say that stuff like its nothing? He's so different from me, he can obviously talk about this stuff freely, whereas even thinking about it, I feel all coy and shy. It must be due to his experience compared to me in dating and no doubt sex in general.

I don't know how to answer that, so I just force down a long sip of the wine, ignoring his gaze. The waiter finally arrives to ask what we want, and we order our meals. Too bad I don't feel like eating anymore, although I am hungry. My mind is sort of on other things aside from the hungriness I feel.

I want him, I realize. After our conversation just then, our playfulness together and his cheeky sort-of innuendo I realize I want him. It's sort of frightening, because I haven't felt this way before. I've been waiting dutifully, rather loyally, for my soul mate to arrive and give me the gift of color. Despite us having only basically met, I find myself actually wanting Christian sexually. Something I have in no way felt before.

It's terrifying, yet exhilarating at the same time, I find, to want that. To experience wanting that.

Like all the things I've heard, from my grandmother, to my mother, there isn't any right time for this sort of thing. You just go with whatever feels right, regardless of the speed of it all. I suppose the next logical thing is to go back to Christian's place. Why overthink it so much like I've constantly been doing ever since this started between us? Frankly, I'm tired of overthinking.

"Is it a long drive to your place?" I force myself to ask, my voice coming out too soft, too breathless.

"It's about a twenty minute drive." He glances at me quizzically while taking another sip of his own wine, then he shrugs. "Why do you ask?" After a second, I think he gets it automatically. "Do you actually want to go back to my place afterwards?"

I nod, finding I want that more than anything. "Yes, I do. I think I'd like that."

He smiles at me, looking like he's won something. "I suppose you aren't as stubborn as I thought after all. You're not even putting up a fight like you did with the car?"

"Well, maybe I'm eager to see where you live and what it looks like?"

xxx

He lied. It wasn't quite a twenty minute drive to where he lives, but close enough.

We take an elevator up to the highest floor and as we reach it, the doors open to an all-white, spacious foyer. The walls are covered in various paintings, some landscapes that look beautiful. Ahead of us, is a large mahogany table with a bunch of white flowers. Already, I can tell where he lives is going to put where I live with Kate to shame.

"Just through here," Christian says, moving ahead of me. I remain behind him, taking my time, glancing around. He opens another large door and the white theme continues inside. His place is huge. High ceilings, a door that opens out to a balcony.

I think its the amazing view that impresses me the most. You can see everything. Skyscrapers, the dark sky. Stars shining. I'm astonished Christian doesn't just stand there by the glass windows, eyeing it for hours endlessly now that he is no longer colorblind. Its beautiful, the view.

"Wow," I gush out, though that seems an understatement. "Your place is... amazing."

"Glad you think so." He sounds truly pleased.

"It's amazing and... huge."

I wander into his living room area, eyeing the large U-shaped couch, the humongous flat-screen TV, while Christian disappears to a corner of the room, doing something. I'm not completely sure what he is doing, until I hear music starting to float heavenly around his house, echoing against the walls. Orchestral music. I recognize it the instant it begins to play as Liebestod- the song we both admitted to liking when we went out on our first date together. Grinning, I turn, finding him standing near a large stereo system, holding what seems to be an IPod device in his hand.

"I happen to have this song on my IPod," he explains. "Thought it would be a fitting piece of music to set the mood, considering how you told me its one of your favorites too."

"You remembered I said that," I say thoughtlessly.

He smiles at me, making my bones strangely feel like they have turned into mushy Jell-O. "Of course I remember. You only told me that a few days ago. My memory isn't quite that bad, fortunately."

I laugh, but get sidetracked by the large dining room table. You could literally sit a zoo-full of people on that thing. My eyes are caught on something else. He has a large grand piano.

"Do you play?" I ask curiously.

"I do. I've been playing since I was six years old."

How odd. I make a face, wondering over to it, the harmonious music of Liebestod filling my ears beautifully. I've always been drawn to pianos. I never knew what it was about them exactly, but there has always been something about them. I reach down, brushing my fingers over the polished wood.

"I've always liked pianos," I admit to him over the music. "There's always been something about them that I've liked."

"You have? Do you play yourself?"

I startle when I look behind me, realizing he is suddenly standing beside me. He lifts up the lid carefully with both hands, letting me admire it and stroke one of the keys. "I've never played, but I wanted to learn when I was younger. My mother said I couldn't, though. Apparently lessons were too expensive, but I've always been drawn to pianos for some reason." I glance up at him while pressing down on one of the keys. He's staring at me, watching me intently. I cannot believe it though; It's another thing we basically have in common. Well, sort of; Him playing piano well, me being drawn to the instrument inexplicably at a young age. "Do you play well?"

"I guess so," he says modestly. "I've been playing a long time. I've had a lot of practice."

"Well, since you were six years old, you said? That is a long time?"

The music stops, then starts again suddenly, billowing around us. He must have put it on repeat on his IPod.

"Can I get you anything?" he asks, remembering his manners as I'm his guest, I suppose. "Would you like some more wine? Would you like me to take your jacket?"

"No, I'm good." I glance down at the piano again, pressing another key.

"Excuse me for a moment then," Christian murmurs, and he disappears off for a few minutes.

I have no idea where he's going or what he's doing. By the time I start to get too worried, he returns, holding a piece of paper in his hand. He's taken off his jacket, I can't help noticing. His shirt is tight on him, clinging to his skin, his biceps. He looks good. Real good.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, nodding back towards his large couch.

"Sure. Sitting sounds good." He takes my hand, surprising me, leading me to the couch.

We both sit, and I notice he holds onto my hand for a moment longer before letting it go. My hand seems to feel tingly at the loss of contact, bereft. His couch is very comfy. I wiggle a bit, finding it hard to concentrate, mainly due to the knowledge of him sitting beside me. I can almost feel that energy surging between us palpably. I don't even seem to hear the music in the background anymore; It's non-existent now. Now I'm anxious and too focused on other things. Like what I hope will happen between us.

When I glance up at Christian's face, he shifts slightly on the couch so that he can look me head-on. His expression is... strange. Guarded, almost. Then finally, he starts to explain what the paper is. "This is a non-disclosure agreement. My lawyer has always insisted on it."

A non-disclosure agreement? What? Why would he give me this?

"What does that mean?" I ask, not bothering to hide my confusion. "And why would I need one exactly?"

"It means that you won't be able to disclose anything about us to anyone. It's... legally binding."

I stare at him, my brows furrowing. Not disclose anything about us? When I agreed for him to take me back here to his place, I wasn't expecting this. I wasn't expecting any agreement thingies to come into this at all?

"But why would I need that?" I mutter, bewildered. "Why would I need a non-disclosure agreement? I mean, we're... we're soul mates? I mean, who would I tell? And what would I tell them? Why would you need to-"

He sighs loudly through his mouth, glancing down at the paper. He looks so... embarrassed for some reason, contrite. Then he nods. "No, no. You're right." Startling me, he grips the paper in the middle with both hands, then he tears it, without preamble. He tears the agreement into shreds, until it resembles little more than scrap paper. "You're right, Anastasia," he breathes. "We don't need this at all. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" He's gotten me so confused. I still can't understand. "You don't need to apologize, but why would you need for me to sign that in the first place?"

"It's just something I've always done." He scrunches all the shredded paper up into a fist, running his other hand through his hair. "This is utterly new to me. This way of doing it."

"And it's not new to me, too?" I wonder out loud. "I've never been in a relationship before, whereas you have, like I admitted to you. I feel like I don't even know what I'm doing right now to be honest."

"It's just... something I'm used to. It's something I've always done. I'm... used to doing it this particular way."

"Something you're used to?" I repeat slowly. I still cannot understand. "Do you always ask people to sign those agreement things first thing you have them in your home?"

"Frankly?" Christian meets my gaze, his expression cautious. "Yes. Yes, I do, Anastasia. It's my... way of having all my bases covered, you could say."

"But why?" I laugh out loud in sheer shock. "Why would you need to?"

He glances away from me, avoiding my eyes. I feel my stomach sink. He's hiding something from me. I can almost sense it. But what reason would he have for hiding something from me? He's been pretty forthcoming so far, hasn't he? I just don't understand. He's seemed pretty straightforward and open so far about his life, but there is clearly something he isn't telling me. I think I'm a pretty decent judge of character. I can tell there is something he hasn't told me, though I'm not sure what exactly.

"Dance with me," he says suddenly, and he stands.

He holds out a hand towards me, his gaze unwavering, persuasive. I get the sense he is just doing it on purpose to evade answering my questions, but for now, I just go with it. Hopefully, whatever it is, Christian will feel welcome to tell me in his own time.

Since I cannot possibly resist with this sort of song choice, I accept his hand, and he yanks me to my feet.

Usually I'm used to dancing alone without a partner, making goofy moves, so I'm not totally sure how I'll go with a partner. To my surprise, it becomes fairly easy. I clasp onto Christian's hand while he slides his arm around my waist, and we move, doing a three step around his living area.

I never dreamed I would be doing this with someone, particularly not with Liebestod playing, but its surprisingly enjoyable. I end up cracking up with laughter when Christian dips me without warning, sending my long hair thrashing around me. When he pulls me up, I catch his expression and he looks humored, as if he's having fun himself.

Once the music comes to an end, I stop still, breathing heavily, flushed. I grin up at him when Liebestod starts playing on repeat again, for the forth time in a row. "You're an amazing dancer," I manage breathlessly.

"So are you."

My mind unconsciously drifts off to what happened today with Leila, his ex. How she ended up being outside the restaurant, how close they looked, how they argued, how in love with him she seemed. Did he ever have her over here too? I can't help wondering. I know it's ridiculous, the sort-of jealousy I feel at the idea of her being inside his house, when I know I truly don't have anything to worry about. I gave him color, not her. We're destined to be together. I still can't bite back my curiosity though.

"Did she ever come over here?" I ask, placing my hand on his shoulder as he moves leisurely to the music again.

He leans his head closer, as if he's misunderstood me. "Who's that?"

"You know." I bite my lip, hesitant all of a sudden. Will he mind me asking? "Your ex? The one you tied those loose ends with when you met me and we gave each other color?"

"Leila?" Just as I feared, he doesn't look too pleased with me asking. He eyes me with distant, wary grey eyes. "She's the past, Anastasia. You're going to be my future. What does it matter, whether she's been in my house or not?" He's speaking through gritted teeth.

"I'm just curious, that's all. I want to know more about your past."

"Well, you don't have to be."

I frown at him, inspecting him closely. Why not be forthcoming anymore all of a sudden?

"You don't have to focus on or be so curious about the past," he explains gently, somewhat pleadingly. "All that matters, is right now, Ana. Just you and me." He lets go of my hand, reaching up, weaving his fingers through the back of my hair gently, looking deeply, sternly, in my eyes. I bring my hand away from his shoulder, reaching behind me, finding the back of his hand. I stroke it with my fingers as that peculiar current of electricity shared between us makes my skin feel as though its prickling. Due to his closeness, I find myself staring at his mouth, preoccupied by his lips. I realize I want him to kiss me. It makes it difficult to concentrate, but I try my best to focus. "Let's not dwell or overthink about the past. All right?"

I force a smile, nodding in agreement, though those niggling doubts won't leave me. I still get the suspicion he is not being honest about something.

Sorry for taking so long to update. Hope you are still interested? Would love to know your thoughts? Hope I'm doing okay with writing them? It's a bit scary at times being my first time but I hope I am doing okay with their characters. Christian's going to be hiding his submissive/BDSM/Dom past from Ana for a while, out of fear she'll turn away from him. Of course, once Ana finds out, there will be some drama.

Hope your having a great start to a new year!