"I'll see you again?"

I nod and smile, groggy and half aware of what I'm doing. Roscoe winks at me and leaves my bedroom with a soft bump of the door. I stare at the wall for a few moments before rolling over to my nightstand. I yawn as I reach for my phone, only to choke up and cough when I see the message on the screen.

Hey, it's Donovan.

I feel a chill through my body as I shoot awake. I toss my phone aside and stand up, immediately breaking into a cold sweat. "Damn it!" I cry. "Oh, I've really done it now..."

I pace the room over and over, my eyes trained on the bed the whole time. I anxiously glance in the mirror, scowling at my messy quills. I snap out of it and glance back at the phone. I shudder and head into the living room to see Mabel spread out on the couch. She looks at me with a brow raised. "That horse that came through here scared the life out of me!" she yells. "You need to tell us when you bring someone over! Especially since this isn't your house!"

I don't respond to her, only staring sleepily as I mouth silent words. She furrows her brow and sits up. "Sis," she says. "You okay...?"

I feel tears well up in my eyes. Mabel gets up and hurries over. She sits me down on the couch and holds my arm. "Label!" she says, "What's going on?"

I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. "I'm in some trouble," I mumble.

"What do you mean? Did that guy take something?!"

"N-No. I've created a sticky situation."

"Explain, Label."

I fetch my cellphone from my room and hand it to Mabel. I watch as the concerned expression on her face gradually melts into a look of disgust as I explain last night's venture. Mabel sits quietly for a few moments as she stares at the message from Donovan. She looks up at me with her eyes narrowed. "So you hook a guy for a date, and then you go and sleep with some other stranger?!"

Taken aback by the harshness in her voice, I look down at the floor. I nod slowly.

"I love you," Mabel says, "but this is low. Especially for you. Coming to visit your sisters, only to bring a random guy into the house... and then getting another's hopes up."

"I know..."

She studies my face, obviously judging. I sigh hold my head in my hands for a while. "I hooked up with the other guy because I figured Donovan wouldn't take the flirting seriously enough to reach out to me..."

"But he did."

"Yep...he sure did."

"This is your problem," Mabel says. "All I can really say is, give this Donovan guy a chance or turn him down. You said you weren't gonna pull any more stuff like this! This is the last sort of attention Sable and I need for the store..."

She sits back and says no more. I stare at the message from Donovan. It'd be smartest for me to turn him down. What if he were to find out I'm a swinger? Then again, it's not like Roscoe and I are an item. I bite my lip and give myself the benefit of the doubt. I call Donovan.

At first, he doesn't pick up. Half-relieved, I sigh. Then he returns the call. I nervously answer.

"Hello?" he says.

I lean away from the phone in my shaky hands and clear my throat.

"H-Hello," I say. "Morning."

"Make it home all right?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good to hear. Now, can I be blunt, Ms. Labelle?"

"O-Oh...?"

"Was last night a one-time thing? You were buzzed when we spoke, and you neglected to tell me who you really are. You remember it all, right?"

"Yes, of course. I remember. I'm sorry for not mentioning that part. I figured you wouldn't humor me if you knew who I was. Once I noticed that you didn't know me, I kept it up."

"Ah, I see."

"Again, I'm sorry. Although, I didn't flirt with you last night just to pass the time. You were very fun to be around."

Mabel groans.

"And tease, apparently," Don chuckles. "But you were, too. Made my night."

I giggle and feel a bit of my anxiety ease away. "Just a bit," I reply. "I was serious about your second lesson, though. If you're ever up for it, that is."

"Definitely. I don't get approached by beautiful women often—especially celebrities. Do you have any time in mind?"

"I've nothing to do today. I'm also off next weekend."

"I'm free today, as well."

I feel a smile creep across my face. I question Donovan's willingness to meet up today. He agrees enthusiastically. We finish our conversation with a joyous tone in our voices. I set my phone down and lean back, grinning like a fool. "He's a lot bolder today than he was when I first met him."

Mabel rolls her eyes. "Oh, please," she scoffs.

"He's thoughtful, too," I say. "And don't get me started on his looks. He looked amazing in that Gracie jacket..."

I trail off, sighing softly with a smile. Mabel gives me a small nod and throws an arm around the back of the couch. "I noticed the first thing he mentioned was your drinking," she says. "At least he sounds responsible."

"Exactly. You don't find many handsome strangers with morals."

"Let's hope he isn't a gold digger, and that you can keep your legs closed."

My sister laughs at me as I head to my room to prepare for the date later today. Roscoe's scent lingers on my bedsheets. My spirits fall a bit as I throw them in the washer. "I'm not going to mess this one up," I say, the vision of my dance with Donovan burned into my mind. "C'mon, girl. You're better than this."

Hopefully Donovan doesn't find out what a mess I am under the guise of fame.

I await Donovan's arrival in front of the fountain by the clock tower. I tap my foot impatiently as my gaze drifts in all directions. Part of me wants this date to be over already, but another wants it to last. I finally see him—top half first as he ascends the stairs from Lower Town. He makes it to the top and heads toward me. I refrain from grinning as I take in his appearance. Tall and handsome, dark brown hair and olive skin shining healthily in the afternoon sun. I'm relieved to see that I'm not overdressed. My idea of casual coincides with his, thankfully. A smile fills his face as he gets closer. As if my legs have a mind of their own, I find myself walking to greet him.

"Afternoon, stranger," he laughs.

"Afternoon," I chuckle. "It's good to see you again."

"You too. Did you do something to your hair?"

"You mean my quills?"

"O-Oh, yeah."

"Smoothed 'em down and used a few products so they'd be softer to the touch. I hate spiky."

"Well, it looks really good. Almost like you have curls!"

"I'm glad you think so," I laugh, shifting my purse higher up on my shoulder. "You look pretty great..."

He laughs at the awkwardness of my statement and beams. I groan and pull him along with me. We head toward the shopping district, attracting stares along the way. Like last night, Donovan takes notice of this. I notice him tapping his thigh anxiously as we walk.

"Donovan?" I say, nudging his arms. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," he says. "At least I know why people are staring, now."

"What do you mean?"

"You're famous, Labelle. Not every day the public sees someone like you with a nobody."

"Oh, let's hear it," I laugh.

"Sorry for being so wary," he says. "I hope you understand where I'm coming from."

"Don't worry, hon. I get you."

He looks into my eyes and walks with a bit more confidence. We continue our stroll through the shopping district to a bench near the cliff. We take a seat and gaze out toward the expanse of city and ocean below us. The breeze blows Donovan's hair lightly. He takes a deep breath and looks over the cliff.

"I remember when I first moved here," he begins, pointing to the Mallard's Stretch in the distance. "My first ride over that bridge was amazing. It's massive and beautiful."

"It's quite impressive," I giggle. "Are you a fan of architecture?"

"A huge one. Skyscrapers, monuments, bridges—you name it. I could stare at those sorts of things all day."

He grins for a moment and turns to me. "I suppose that makes me sound easily entertained, hm?"

I laugh and shake my head. Donovan continues to stare toward the bridge. The sunlight glints off his almost yellow eyes, filled with a childlike wonder. He catches me staring and glances at me. "Something wrong?" he asks.

"I didn't see it last night," I mumble, "but your eyes are gorgeous..."

A bit of red flushes his cheeks as he moves his hair out of his face. "T-Thank you..." he says.

"You seem flustered by almost everything I say!"

"I'm definitely not used to being around celebrities."

"Forget that, hon. I'm a person too."

He looks down for a moment as if pondering the validity of my claim. To my relief, he returns his gaze to me and nods. "Good way to look at it," he says.

I cross my left leg over my right and fold my hands in my lap. "Mind if we have that talk we didn't get last night?" I ask.

"I'd enjoy that," he says. "How are we starting this?"

"Are you in college? You look like you're in your early twenties."

"Twenty-two. I graduated a couple years ago, though."

"Oh, what'd you study?"

"Studied psychology for four years. Never went for a doctorate, though."

"That's pretty cool. I studied fashion design under the designer Gracie."

"Big surprise," he laughs.

"Psychology, though," I say. "I didn't expect you to have studied that."

"Most people don't."

"What got you so interested in it?"

"I wanted to understand how people grow. Makes me feel more in touch with them when I'm able to see things from different angles and understand how people form the mindsets they do."

"That's...very thoughtful, honestly. Interesting. Are you a counselor or something?"

"I'm actually working in a café right now. Haven't been comfortable committing to my degree just yet. Honestly, I don't know if my lifestyle really suits that field."

"That's understandable," I say, keeping myself from questioning his lifestyle. The way he mentioned it didn't sound too pleasant. Perhaps I'll learn it in time.

He leans his elbow on the back of the bench. "From the way you worded it earlier," he says, "I'm guessing you aren't in your early twenties."

"Twenty-eight," I whisper.

His face curls into a mix of amusement and sympathy as he laughs. "You made it sound as if you were ages ahead of me," he says. "Twenty-eight isn't too far off from me, Miss Labelle."

"Definitely don't call me 'Miss Labelle' in that sense, kiddo."

"Yes, ma'am."

I open my mouth to retaliate, only to grit my teeth and look away. "Ugh!" I groan. Donovan bursts into laughter and gently grips my arm. "I'm only teasing!" he snickers. "Remember how much you pestered me last night? It's my turn!"

I shudder at his touch but a warmth gradually flows through me. I gently place my hand over his. "Checkmate then, Donovan."

"You can call me 'Don'," he laughs.

As I lead him through multiple clothing stores, forcing him to try on things that catch my eye, we spend hours chatting about our schooling, hobbies, and favorite things. It's late evening, now.

"How does this look?" he asks, pulling on a new denim jacket. He turns around a few times, smiling at himself in the mirror. I giggle and nod in approval. "You look quite handsome," I say. "Let me try something. Close your eyes."

I grab a black and white sundress and step into a fitting room. After a few moments of struggling to lace up the back, I sigh in defeat. "Don!" I call.

He gets closer to the door, but maintains his distance. "Yeah?" he asks, covering his eyes.

"I need some help lacing this up. It's okay to look."

He reluctantly lowers his hands. "Sorry," he says. "I've got this thing about privacy. You sure it's okay?"

"Yes, hon."

I crack the door and turn my back to him. He reaches up to tie the lace at the back of the dress, his hands lightly, but firmly grazing the fur on my back. I shiver and let out a small gasp. He removes his hands. "You good?" he asks. I reassure him and stand up straight. I feel myself grinning at the bump of his hands against my back. Once he's finished, he steps away and I reveal the whole thing.

"How is it?" I ask, stepping and turning around a few times.

"It looks amazing on you," he says.

"Oh, don't flatter me."

"I mean it! You look beautiful."

I return to the fitting room with embarrassment washing over me. Last night, I was the one making him feel constantly flustered. Now it's the other way around. Despite being several years younger than me, I feel intellectually matched and comfortable with Don. He certainly knows more at twenty-two than I did. The age difference is almost non-existent, in a way. After I've finished dragging him around, he decides to take the lead.

"Hungry?" he asks, leaning against a lamp post.

"I'd be lying if I denied it," I reply.

"Any place in mind?"

"I've been in the lead this evening. You choose something, hon."

"How about the Listener's Coast?"

My eyes widen in surprise. He looks at me with a questioning, genuine look in his eyes. How in the world can he afford a place like that on a barista's salary? It's not a fancy place, but it's so hard to get in that I've only been once. I'm pretty sure that was only because people know who I am.

"Don," I laugh, "you don't need to try and impress me. You can pick something more affordable."

He furrows his brow and looks away awkwardly. "I can afford it just fine," he says, laughing wryly. "Just because I'm not famous doesn't mean I'm poor."

"I-I'm sorry," I say, slipping my sunglasses into my purse. "I meant nothing by it, hon. Maybe that was a bit inconsiderate."

His expression softens and he purses his lips. "It's all right. Just want you to know that I'm well-off. I'd like to impress you, but I don't seek to do that through monetary means."

"Oh?"

"I'd like to impress you as who I am. I don't believe spending should make someone more appealing."

Time to cross "gold digger" off my list of apprehensions. This guy is down-to-earth...

Sitting across from Don in the Listener's Coast reminded me of last night. Seeing the embarrassment in his eyes as I caught him stealing glances at me was amusing. I figured I'd humor him and make his night. I shouldn't have had those drinks last night. I ended up teasing this guy into a date and running off with a friend with benefits. I'm disgusted by myself. Spending the day with Don, though...

It doesn't feel like a mistake.

He gently nudges me out of my trance. I look up at him. He has a gentle, yet concerned gaze in his eyes. "You were mumbling to yourself," he says.

"Just lost in thought," I say.

We sit on the bench by the cliff once more, the sun now set. We stare out toward the moonlight dancing on the ocean and the countless headlights zooming on the Mallard's Stretch in the distance. "Do you travel, Labelle?" asks Don.

"I do," I say. "Mostly for work. Interviews and presenting new designs—stuff like that. I don't get to take personal vacations very often. You?"

"I'm something of a traveller. Oraton's my most recent destination. I enjoy it here."

"Why do you travel?"

"I don't really know. Being mobile makes me feel stable, I guess."

"But you do enjoy Oraton? Do you feel unstable at all, since you aren't moving right now?"

"Things are going great for me here, but part of me feels a bit unstable. Like something bad may happen if you stay in one place for too long, you know? I'm not the greatest at settling down. Still, this has been one of the better towns I've been to. I've met a lot of great people, too. Maybe that nagging anxiety will go away."

"Where else do you plan to go?"

"Major tourist destinations in Lower Derure. Maybe I'll fly outta here, one day."

He stares ahead, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Where would you go?" I ask.

"Maybe somewhere in Europe or North America."

We sit in silence for a while longer. I begin to feel a bit of regret piling up in my stomach. Something about last night isn't sitting right. I tug Don's arm.

"I'm glad I met you," I say. "but I still feel awful about how I acted last night."

"Why?" he asks.

"Well, you seemed busy with your friends. I came up and annoyed you until you danced with me. I decided to take a load off and have some drinks because I have to maintain this high-class stoicism when I'm around Gracie and other designers. I haven't had much time to myself until recently."

"And I suppose you've been taking advantage of that?"

"I really have."

"I don't want you to worry. I enjoyed last night. I really did. If you hadn't approached me, we wouldn't be here right now."

He stands up and steps away from the bench. He spreads his arms out before resting them on his hips. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be giving me my second dance lesson?" he asks.

I stare at him, mouth slightly agape as thoughts clash in my mind. Don's the only guy I've met in a long time who's matched my teasing and attitude. The only guy I've been able to relax around. Every other man I've tried to approach, or man that's approached me, has only wanted money or to get me in their bed. Don's shown concern and thoughtfulness since the moment I met him. Maybe that's why I've been fooling around with Roscoe. Maybe I'd given up on finding someone decent. I haven't met anyone as good as Don since...

I shake myself out of it and stand up. I join Don and throw my arms around his neck. "Let's get to it," I say. "Dance with me."

He smirks and grips my waist, pulling me close. We follow the same routine as last night. However, he maintains eye contact the entire time. Even when I try to throw him for a loop, he keeps his eyes focused and his grip tight. At one point, he even dips me. I yelp and cling to him. I stare up at him as he holds me in place. If it weren't for my fur, I'm sure I'd be as red as a tomato. Don holds one hand behind my back and my hand in his other. He pulls me up and close to him as he begins to sway once more. I reach up and place my hands on his cheeks.

"You've certainly impressed me," I mumble. "I didn't even need to teach you anything."

He gently strokes my quills and chuckles. "I can be a bit bold after I've gotten over the shyness." he says. "I hope that's okay."

"Oh, definitely..."

He lets go of me and leans on the railing, a triumphant smile on his face. I stand across from him, arms folded. "Thank you for today," I say. "I felt like a normal person. As embarrassed as I was about coming up to you nearly drunk, I'm happy it ended with this. I made the first move, but now you're the one leading. I haven't felt like this in a long time."

"I'm glad I was able to make you feel that way," he says. "Makes me feel accomplished."

"Most other guys just want me for publicity or money. The way you spoke to me today, though...and the things you've shown me so far... I like this side of you."

"I feel the same to you."

"I, uh, hope I get to see more sides of you in the future?"

"Me too. I was hoping we could get to know each other some more. We're still strangers, pretty much."

"So... Will there be a next time?"

"Definitely. I'm attracted to you, but I want to see more of you before this becomes anything more. As much as I'd like to be affectionate, I feel like I should put a stop to it before it goes further. No rushing anything. I'd prefer to build first."

I nod in agreement. "We should spend more time together, soon. If I'm being honest, I'm sort of hoping this becomes something intimate in the future."

"Let's save that thought for when we're closer, yeah?"

He cocks his head to the side a bit. Excitement sparkles in his eyes, but it's clear that apprehension is present there. He's aware that we've only just met, despite the click. It's a good thing he knows how to pace things. Judging by my actions last night, I certainly don't...

"Yeah," I say. "Friends before anything."

He nods. "There we go. Let's be smart about this. It'll be a little while. Let's see if you still feel that way when you've seen all of me."

He's playing this responsibly. The way he mentioned the possible change in feelings once we become close shows that even though we may lose a chance of romance, he's willing to let it go to preserve honesty between us. That's the most selfless thing I've seen anyone offer, and I've only just met Don last night. He almost seems too good to be true.

"The feeling is reciprocated," I say. "Here's to building."

He takes my hand firmly and moves in, enveloping me in a warm, tight embrace. I wrap my arms around him and nuzzle into his jacket. We exchange smiles so full of warmth that I could melt. Wherever we may go from here, I hope it's good. If he decides a relationship isn't the way to go, I'll be grateful enough to call someone like Don a friend.