I remember the night we first kissed. Knowing that I was meeting her that night, I had dressed up. I had also intended to bring her flowers. I couldn't find anything except a random herb, but checked the scent to make sure it wasn't offensive.
She took her own sweet time to arrive; for the first fifteen minutes I was certain she had forgotten, or worse, deliberately set me up to look like a fool. But she did get there.
"Hey!" she said, "You're here!"
"I am," I said.
"No offense meant of course," Desdemona responded, "It's just the last time I went out to meet a beorc he ditched me."
"You-you've been out with a beorc before?" I asked. Somehow I didn't feel as exotic and superficially unattainable when I knew that I wasn't the first one.
"Not successfully," she said. "My mother says that all beorc are the same—or rather that all 'humans' are the same, and that they wouldn't stick around for me. But you, you did stick around for me."
"How could anyone not?" I asked. "You're beautiful!"
"You think so?" she asked.
"I… yes," I said. "Here," I said, sheepishly handing her the herb. "I realize that these are terrible quality for someone of your beauty, but they were honestly the best I could find."
"You… these… they're…" Desdemona said. I recognized that look; it was the same look I had the previous day when she called me handsome. "How did you find these?"
"They were just kind of lying around," I said.
"You found and picked them in the wild?" she asked. "Oh, my… I thought that you were rich and had connections, but… instead you have an eye that could put even the best cat to shame."
"Wait, this herb is rare?" I asked.
"Rare doesn't begin to describe it!" she said. "They're not only the most uncommon herb in Gallia, but my personal favorite. And you said, what, 'they're terrible quality for someone of my beauty'?"
"Well…" I said. I did say that, but what should I have said then? Would she be flattered that I would think she was so beautiful, or insulted that I thought her favorite herb was of terrible quality?
"That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," she said. "Come here, Zihark."
"Okay," I said. She wrapped her arms around my neck. I looked into her eyes, and she looked into mine. I was terrified. At the same time, this is what I wanted all along, but I had no idea how to act.
"What should I do?" I asked.
"Kiss me," Desdemona responded, "If you really feel like I'm so beautiful, you should have no problem doing so."
"O-okay," I said, "But I've never kissed before…"
"Really?" she asked, laughing. "That surprises me! You're sweet, handsome, smart, and strong. Why would anyone reject you?"
"It's not that," I said. "I've just never felt this passionate about anyone before."
"Here," she said, "I'll guide you." I kissed her as directed. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. My heart raced. Somehow, our tongues touched. Eventually she had to break us apart physically.
"Zihark," she said. "Thank you for that."
"It wasn't sloppy and terrible?" I asked.
"I find your total virginity adorable," she said.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yeah," she responded. "I'd love for you to meet my family."
"But isn't your mom racist?" I asked.
"I'm sure she'll change her mind upon meeting you," Desdemona responded.
"If you insist," I said.