A Couple's Weekend
A bright midday. Bianca stared into the mirror, lost in unexpected worries.
"Hmm... Hm..."
She puffed out her cheeks slightly, holding outfits in her small hands. This one? That one? Her mind raced with endless worries, and she absentmindedly ruffled her hair before catching herself.
"Ah, ugh... What am I even doing?"
How meticulously she'd styled it. She hastily smoothed it back down and dove into her dilemma again.
"Maybe the skirt after all...?"
It was a rare weekend off, after all. She had a date with Carlyle later. Her heart fluttered with excitement, which made her giddy, and that giddiness brought tension. He had no idea how much effort she put into getting ready every time.
"...Come to think of it, that's so unfair."
Yeah, really. She was the only one agonizing like this. A sense of injustice welled up. But oddly, her lips curved into a smile.
Not long ago, she'd even gone to her family home with Carlyle.
"Dad, I hate you...!"
It didn't feel real yet, but after all those twists and turns, she'd gotten marriage permission. Their relationship had long surpassed a mere flirtation. Shouldn't a solid bond like theirs mean things got more comfortable now?
'Just throw on anything and go...?'
Back when she was a guy, she'd lived in tracksuits. But Bianca let out a soft sigh soon after.
"...Ugh, whatever."
She slipped on the skirt. Her face flushed autumn-red as she struggled into the black stockings. She started rationalizing it to herself.
"Yeah, well... It's not weird or anything."
If they were going on a date, dressing up was only right, wasn't it? A man's word is his bond. She wasn't a man anymore, but she'd decided to be honest. Bianca Shama's pride meant keeping every promise she made!
It was a little embarrassing, awkward even. She wondered if she was overdoing it, feeling a bit sulky. But...
'To Carlyle, at least...'
She wanted to look pretty for him—that was her honest feeling. What could she do about that? She only wanted to be seen as a woman by Carlyle. With so many memories together, she couldn't deny it. In such a short time, impossibly many.
"I didn't know what you'd like, so I bought everything just in case."
The first parfait she'd tasted, trembling in fear in the haunted house. Crying unwittingly in the gym storage room, the sports festival, the school trip. Especially the confusing emotions before and after that trip.
Carlyle Schultz—that guy she'd thought was a thug—was surprisingly delicate in odd ways. So considerate it was ingrained in him. Unlike his first impression, he was upright, which caught her off guard. He seemed carefree usually but could be serious too, and above all, being with him was fun and joyful. When he showed his true feelings amid all that, treating her so preciously... Bianca couldn't help it, she thought.
"Oh, I'm gonna be late...!"
She applied glossy pink lip balm one last time, rubbing her lips together. Then, slipping on cute white boots, Bianca checked herself in the full-length mirror by the entryway.
Cream blouse on top, beige checkered skirt. Black stockings paired with dainty white boots. No matter how you looked at it, she was a girl dressed to the nines, heading out to meet her boyfriend.
'But this is me.'
This was her now. The result of her choice. And Bianca had no regrets about it. Proof? The smile tugging at her lips.
"He's not waiting, is he...?"
Her footsteps quickened, matching her eager heart.
A slightly chilly day. Carlyle leaned against the front of the café. Snow still lingered on the nearby street benches. Even as early spring's cool air slipped through his collar, his heart felt warm. Full, perhaps?
'Bianca will be here soon...'
Even just waiting felt good because of her. With someone like that, he barely noticed the cold.
Quiet chatter from café patrons drifted out, along with the soft hum of the coffee machine.
Over 180cm tall, dressed sharply in a black coat with striking features—Carlyle naturally drew eyes. Nothing new; he always put effort into his appearance when heading out.
"D-did you... spray cologne or something?"
"Why, is it bad?"
"N-no... not that, it's just..."
That meant she liked it. Bianca wore her feelings on her sleeve. So he spritzed on her favorite cologne, applied lotion, styled every strand of hair, fussed over his outfit's fit. Maybe someday it'd get casual, after more time together. They'd only started dating seriously right before graduation—less than half a year. And his girlfriend was so cute and pretty. He felt a twinge of insecurity without the effort.
Not that he doubted Bianca, just... yeah.
'Once we're at university...'
Carlyle frowned. Already a headache. Objectively, Bianca was ridiculously pretty and cute. He'd seen guys hit on her more than once or twice when he wasn't around. Imagining university crawling with them...
"Wah, Carlyle—!"
How'd she sneak up behind him? Feeling her small frame, he turned immediately.
'Mischievous girl.'
A chuckle escaped him.
"What, when'd you get here?"
"Me? Just now."
She grinned hehe. Honey practically dripped from Bianca's eyes. Probably no other girl liked him this much besides Bianca Shama. Her cat-like features suggested puppy-like affection—she loved skinship. Or maybe a fox? She had a natural talent for stirring a man's heart.
"Cold, Bianca? Why're you clinging like that?"
His girlfriend was impossibly cute today too. Teasing her, she puffed her cheeks like a chipmunk, Carlyle thought.
"What? Got a problem...?"
"Nah, not at all."
He poked her playfully, chuckling low, then pulled her into his arms heedless of stares.
"Weather's cold."
Lowering his head to bury his face in her nape, Bianca—the one who'd jumped him first—flustered instead.
"...Hey, hold on."
"What, Bianca?"
"...People are watching."
Her fidgety voice. Carlyle smirked.
"Let 'em stare."
She used to worry about eyes on them. Now he'd only watch for her cues.
"Ugh, urgh..."
Her nape flushed red. Adorable little fists tapped him. At that, Carlyle released her with a poke and grin.
"You started it."
"You, seriously..."
"You're gorgeous today."
His ambush turned Bianca's face beet red. She fumbled wordlessly before sighing.
"...Don't think I let that slide."
But she couldn't hide her pleased smile, could she? So damn cute.
"Got it. Shall we head in?"
"Yeah."
Their hands intertwined naturally, thumbs stroking backs. Giggling, they entered the café.
"Welcome, you two—!"
"Java Chip Frappuccino and an Americano."
They took a window seat. Even sitting across, their clasped hands stayed put. Bianca eyed Carlyle's hand curiously.
"Your hand okay...? Not hurt?"
"Eh, it's fine."
"Take it easy at work too."
She'd seen him working firsthand.
'Doesn't look easy...'
Worrying her. His other hand settled on her head, stroking gently with that low voice—instant calm.
"Thanks for worrying, but no need. I'm not overdoing it."
"Ah, uh... good, then."
Her concerned face melted into a beaming smile. Ding-dong—order ready. Carlyle stood.
"I'll grab it, Bianca."
No chance to argue. Bianca nodded happily.
"Here, blanket."
Carlyle was thoughtful like that.
"Girls shouldn't be sloppy."
A rooftop memory surfaced.
"Ah, thanks."
Blushing faintly, she took it. This is why I can't help loving you.
Slurp, slurp—sweet frappuccino through the straw. Bianca nibbled her dessert primly. Carlyle chuckled.
"What?"
"Feels like old you would've scarfed it down."
What, now? Accusing her of acting ladylike? Sounded like it.
She shot him a glare; he backed down quick.
"...Sorry, Bianca. Meant it nicely."
Tch, always. Even good intentions. Pouting visibly, Carlyle scooted over for a light hug.
"Don't be mad, Bianca."
"...Lucky you know you're wrong."
Words aside, her mood lifted instantly. Giggling more, he pressed foreheads together, grinning. Embracing, laughing uncontrollably. Until café stares hit—including the barista's hint. Clearing throats, they settled.
"Y'know, next week we'll feel like college kids."
"Not feel— we will be. Scared?"
Bianca shook her head.
"Nah, opposite. Kinda nervous, tense... but exciting."
"Yeah? Why?"
Dating revealed Carlyle's listening talent. Didn't match his cool looks—his gentle demeanor felt like chatting with a big bro.
'Never had one, but...'
Heard girls loved this type. She got why.
Bianca hesitated, then confessed.
"...Because you're there."
He missed it. Puzzled look; she repeated.
"...Duh, 'cause of you. Same school."
Her face ignited. Burning heat. Carlyle poked fun.
"I'm the worried one."
"Worried? About what?"
Tilting head at the surprise, his torso leaned in. Big hand ruffled her hair again.
"How to make it clear to everyone."
"Clear what...?"
"That you're mine. No poaching."
Nearby eavesdroppers froze.
—Kids these days are bold.
—Ugh, couples.
Mixed reactions rippled. But Bianca and Carlyle, lost in each other, noticed nothing.
Gulp—Bianca swallowed dryly at his blatant desire. The mood shifted instantly. And so...
"Sorry, folks. Other customers are uncomfortable."
Barista's awkward face. Fair—they'd been that clingy.
"Ah, sorry..."
Bianca ducked her flaming face. Not kicked out, but too embarrassed to stay.
"Let's go, Carlyle."
"Go? Where?"
Outside, he chuckled.
"Didn't need to leave."
"Only you'd be that shameless."
Carlyle shut up. First time dating someone he truly adored—hard to rein in. Probably a nuisance to others.
"Then, Bianca—to your place? Watch anime."
Alone sounded comfy. Tempting offer. Bianca pondered. He probably wouldn't just watch anime, but she didn't mind. Blushing, she nodded.
"Anime only, then...?"
"Yup, just anime."
His lip curled.
"But if I get sleepy...?"
"Can't crash. Got plans tomorrow."
"I'll wake you."
Such a talker. Bianca laughed, pinching his arm playfully. That coquettish response signaled consent. Chatting sweetly, they headed home.
"Dinner—what'll it be?"
"Risotto by you. Best ever."
"That...? Not just buttering me up?"
"Nah. First dish you made me. Still remember you crying in the gym shed."
"Wh-what?! When'd I cry?"
Freshly pre-university, newly dating. Clumsy in everything, but thrilling—that was their weekend.