Little Big Problems

Chapter 17: Not Jealous

"Favorite color?" I ask.

"Red. The color of love," Raphael replies.

"Why am I not surprised?" I laugh. It's so expected of him.

"What about you?"

"The color of your eyes," I drawl teasingly. He rolls his eyes at me. "What? You aren't the only one who is allowed to be cheesy." I giggle.

"Correct answer please." I see him holding back a smile.

"Okay," I say seriously, "I think my favorite color would be orange. It looks so vibrant and fun."

When the clock hit ten Raphael and I decided to end our date and head back to our places. Raphael is a member of the budget committee from his department for the cultural fest and he has a meeting tomorrow with his faculty. I, too, have to go with Adrien, Zaid and Logan for the show's shopping in the morning. So as much as we'd love to spend whole night with each other, eating and chatting, it wasn't ideal for our plans tomorrow.

Right now we are walking to my dorm and asking each other random questions as we stroll through the streets. I told Raphael he didn't need to walk with me to my dormitory every time, but he shushed me and reminded me of the incident with the creep. Somewhere between our talks, I had narrated my chilling encounter of that night to him.

"Your comfort food?" He asks, his thumb running circles at the back of my hand. Oh yeah, we are holding hands.

"Chocolate," I answer. "Yours?"

"Cassoulet."

"What's that?"

"It's a french casserole with pork and beans."

"Sounds delicious," I hum.

"You must think I'm so french." He chuckles.

"And is there any problem with that?" I raise my brows at him. Raphael told me his parents immigrated from France to here when he was eleven. Hence the accent. "I'm pretty sure you must know by now girls dig french guys," I joke.

"Yeah, that's true." He gives a goofy grin. "But sometimes I wonder if I'm setting bad example of the french guys. You know, 'stereotyping' them."

"You're just being yourself. You're not supposed to carry the burden of representing other thousands of french people." I smile at him.

"It's really wonderful to be with you Harper," he says suddenly, taking me by surprise, "it's been really long when I truly enjoyed talking to someone. Not that others aren't good, but with you it all comes so naturally."

"Um, thanks. I feel the same," I reply honestly. Conversations between us seem to flow easily even though we don't know each other for long.

He flashes me a smile. "For that Harper Young, I'll be introducing you to my Cassoulet next time. You'll forget all about those fish tacos."

"Ooh, so there will be next time," I tease, nudging his side.

"Absolutely," his answer is immediate.

I grin, even though on the inside I don't feel sure about continuing this. I have an idea what's the end game for Raphael and it's something that I can't give. It's only fair if I make that clear beforehand. Holding hands and light flirting is all I can offer, especially when it's hard to see any future with him.

I wonder what I'm really doing right now. Maybe casual dating isn't as easy as I thought. At least for me.

"Raphael, I have to-"

I stop when I see two familiar figures standing few feet away from us as we round the corner.

Adrien and Logan.