The waiter cleared the plates with a soft clatter, the ceramic scraping against each other as he stacked them.
The candle between them had burned low, wax pooling at the base in a small, milky puddle. But neither of them stood.
The warmth of the room wrapped around them like a blanket, and the jazz had shifted to something slower, brassier.
Jane picked up her glass, the stem cool and smooth between her fingers. She took a small sip—the last of the red wine, dry and slightly tannic—before setting it down and looking across the table.
"So, Doctor Harris."
Sophia raised an eyebrow, a slow, amused curve. "That sounds dangerous."
Jane's grin widened. "I have another question."
Sophia leaned back in her chair, the wood creaking beneath her. "I'm beginning to regret agreeing to dinner."
"Too late." Jane's voice was light, teasing.
Sophia's lips twitched. "Ask."
Jane set her elbows on the table, chin resting on her linked fingers. "What do you do when you're not working?"
Sophia paused. Her gaze drifted to the window, to the garden outside where the last of the daylight was fading into dusk. The fountain still gurgled softly, catching the amber glow of string lights.
"I work." She said it simply, like it was obvious.
Jane stared at her, her expression flat. "That's terrible."
Sophia's smile returned, small and self-aware. "Mostly. I have hobbies."
Jane's tone was pointed. "Name one."
Sophia lifted her chin.
"I read." Sophia's voice was defensive.
"What?" Jane leaned forward.
"Medical journals." The words came out with a hint of sheepishness.
Jane groaned, dropping her head back. "That doesn't count."
Sophia laughed—a real, unguarded sound that drew a glance from the table beside them. "Fine. I cook sometimes."
Jane's eyebrows shot up, her head snapping forward. "You cook?"
"A little." Sophia's fingers traced the rim of her water glass.
"What can you make?" Jane's voice was eager, curious.
Sophia's brow furrowed as she considered. "Several things."
"That isn't an answer." Jane pointed a finger at her.
Sophia narrowed her eyes playfully, the candlelight reflecting in them. "Are you interviewing me?"
"I'm trying to determine whether you're capable of surviving outside a hospital." Jane's voice was deadpan, but her eyes sparkled.
Sophia's laugh was soft, warm. "I've survived this long."
Jane laughed too, the sound bright against the low hum of the restaurant. "Okay. My turn. I can cook too."
Sophia tilted her head, genuinely interested. "What do you make?"
Jane waved a hand vaguely. "Almost anything."
Sophia gave her a skeptical look, one eyebrow arching high. "That's suspiciously similar to my answer."
"Maybe we're compatible." The words came out casually, almost offhand.
But Sophia's smile changed. It softened at the edges, became something more vulnerable, more real. "Maybe we are."
Jane's fingers found the edge of her napkin, twisting the fabric, smoothing the creases. Her gaze flicked to the garden outside—the way the string lights caught the water, the shadows of leaves dancing on the stone path.
"I haven't done anything like this in a while," she said quietly.
Sophia's voice was gentle. "Like what?"
"An actual date." Jane looked back at her, her eyes honest.
Sophia was quiet for a moment. Her hand rested flat on the table, fingers spread. The soft glow of the candle illuminated the faint lines around her eyes. "Neither have I."
Jane blinked. "Really?"
Sophia shook her head, a small, rueful smile on her lips. "Work took most of my attention."
"And now?" Jane's voice was barely above a whisper.
Sophia didn't hesitate. Her eyes met Jane's, steady and sure. "Now I'm learning to make room."
Jane's smile slowly returned, spreading across her face like warmth from a fire. "For me?"
"For you." Sophia's voice was soft, certain.
Jane looked down, her cheeks flushing. She tried to hide it, pressing her lips together, but the smile refused to stay contained. It broke through, wide and helpless.
Sophia reached across the table and gently touched her fingers—just the tips, featherlight. "Hey."
Jane looked up.
"Don't hide that." Sophia's thumb brushed across Jane's knuckles.
"Hide what?" Jane's voice was breathy.
"That smile." Sophia's eyes were warm, tracing Jane's face.
Jane laughed softly, a sound that was half embarrassment, half joy. "I can't help it."
"Good." Sophia's hand wrapped fully around Jane's, their palms pressing together.
Their fingers intertwined, resting on the table between the salt shaker and the melted candle. The warmth of Sophia's hand anchored Jane, steady and real.
After another few minutes, Sophia stood, her chair scraping gently against the wood. She adjusted her blazer, smoothing the fabric over her hips.
"Come with me."
Jane looked up, her hand still tingling from where Sophia had been holding it. "Where?"
Sophia's lips curved. "Still asking questions?"
"Yes." Jane's voice was firm, but her eyes were dancing.
Sophia held out her hand—palm open, fingers reaching. "Come on."
Jane looked at it, then at Sophia's face. The candlelight caught the gold flecks in her eyes, the slight flush on her cheeks.
"You're mysterious tonight." Jane's voice was teasing, but she was already reaching for Sophia's hand.
"I'll take that as a compliment." Sophia's fingers closed around hers, warm and sure.
Jane slipped her hand into Sophia's and let herself be pulled up. The chair wobbled behind her, but she didn't look back.
They left the restaurant, the door swinging shut behind them with a soft thump. The night air hit them—cooler now, carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine.
The garden stretched out before them, a winding path of weathered stone between clusters of hydrangeas and rose bushes.
String lights crisscrossed overhead, casting pools of golden light on the gravel.
Jane looked around, her breath catching. "You planned this whole evening."
Sophia shook her head, her thumb stroking the back of Jane's hand. "Not the whole evening."
"What did you plan?" Jane squeezed her fingers.
"Dinner." Sophia's voice was quiet, almost shy.
"And this?" Jane gestured at the garden with her free hand.
Sophia shrugged, a small, elegant movement. "I thought we could walk."
Jane's smile was soft, genuine. She stepped closer, their shoulders brushing. "I like it."
They walked slowly, their footsteps crunching on the gravel. The fountain bubbled nearby, its spray catching the light in tiny, shimmering droplets.
Sophia pointed out a cluster of pale pink roses, and Jane leaned in to smell them—their scent sweet and heady.
They talked about whatever came to mind. Sophia's first dog, a golden retriever named Biscuit. Jane's disastrous attempt at baking a cake for her mother's birthday. Small things, silly things, things that made them laugh and nudge each other with their shoulders.
At one point, Jane stopped beside a wooden bench, its paint weathered and peeling. The garden was quieter here, tucked away from the restaurant's glow.
"Sophia." Her voice was serious.
Sophia turned to face her, her brow furrowing slightly. "Hmm?"
Jane looked at her, the string lights casting soft shadows across her face. "I have something to tell you."
Sophia immediately became attentive. Her shoulders squared. Her eyes sharpened with concern. "What is it?"
Jane smiled—slow, warm, mischievous. "I think I'm getting used to calling you my girlfriend."
Sophia's expression softened like melting wax. The tension drained from her, replaced by something tender. "I'm getting used to hearing it."
Jane stepped closer, close enough to see the faint pulse at Sophia's throat, the way her breath had quickened. "Good."
Sophia looked at her, a question in her eyes. "What?"
"You're less shy now." Jane's voice was gentle, teasing.
Sophia smiled faintly, her gaze dropping to where Jane's hand rested on her arm. "You bring that out of me."
Jane's smile widened. "Then I'll keep doing it."
Sophia shook her head, amused, but her fingers found Jane's again. "You really are confident."
Jane squeezed her hand. "I know what I want."
"And what do you want?" Sophia's voice was low, curious.
Jane looked directly into her eyes, holding her gaze. "You."
Sophia went quiet. Her breath caught. Her hand tightened around Jane's.
Jane reached up with her free hand and gently adjusted the collar of Sophia's blouse, her fingers brushing against the warm skin of her neck. "Still nervous?"
Sophia's laugh was breathless. "A little."
Jane smiled, her thumb stroking the fabric of Sophia's collar. "Come here."
Sophia leaned down, her eyes fluttering closed.
Their kiss was brief, warm, and unhurried. The scent of jasmine surrounded them. The fountain gurgled softly in the distance. Jane felt Sophia's hand slide to the small of her back, pulling her just a fraction closer.
When they separated, Jane stayed close, her forehead resting against Sophia's chin. "I think that was a good first date."
Sophia smiled, her lips brushing Jane's hair. "It isn't over yet."
Jane pulled back, her eyes lighting up. "Oh?"
Sophia nodded toward the car, visible through the gaps in the trees. "I have one more stop."
Jane laughed, the sound bright and surprised. "You really are full of surprises."
Sophia squeezed her hand, her thumb tracing circles on Jane's palm. "Get in."
Jane's grin was wide. "Where are we going?"
Sophia's voice was low, amused. "You'll find out."
Jane shook her head, but she was already walking toward the car. "You're enjoying this."
"Yes." Sophia's voice was soft, almost shy.
She reached the passenger door first and opened it for Jane, her hand resting on the frame.
Jane climbed inside, the leather cool against her bare legs. She looked up at Sophia through the open door, her smile softening.
For the first time that evening, Sophia looked almost shy herself. Her cheeks were flushed, her gaze flickering away for just a second before meeting Jane's again.
And Jane noticed.
She didn't tease her. She simply reached across the center console, her fingers brushing against Sophia's wrist.
Sophia started the car, the engine humming to life. She pulled the door shut with a gentle click, then circled around to the driver's side.
Neither of them let go.
Sophia's hand rested on the gear shift, Jane's fingers intertwined with hers. The warmth of their palms pressed together as Sophia pulled out of the lot, the gravel crunching beneath the tires.
The garden lights faded in the side mirror, swallowed by the dark.
And Jane smiled, her thumb stroking the back of Sophia's hand.
She didn't ask where they were going this time.
She just held on.