Slinky, meet Captain Starlight

The first date I had with Captain Starlight lasted 12 hours.

He opens car doors, makes sure he walks on the traffic side when we're on the sidewalk, has a smile that crinkles up his eyes and made me laugh my ass off within the first five minutes of us meeting. He still has boxes and boxes of stuff unpacked, and has no TV. He has grey eyes and brown hair and has absolutely no idea what good Chinese food should taste like. He will happily eat chicken's feet, adores tau huay and owns a vintage Vespa.

I don't think they approve of me, he whispered, leaning across to me when the Cantonese grandmother we were sharing a table with inundated me with waves of disapproval. Shame on me, being seen with a non-Chinese man.

We both have professions dominated by one gender: his, male and mine, female. If we work out, he laughed, we should throw a party for our friends. It would work out beautifully. He likes The Princess Bride ("I dress up as Dread Pirate Wesley on Wednesdays."), and can quote from it to prove it. He reads, a fact that surprises me when we browse through Borders, and he watches Grey's Anatomy. God bless the man, he does not enjoy watching sports. He's traveled through China, Mongolia, Tokyo, most of the eastern States and a bunch of other places which I've forgotten. He's taller than me when I wear my snakeskin boots.

He bought a horrendously overpriced cookbook (in my opinion) and made me something truly godawful from it on our second date. He made me laugh when his attempts to squash his Jeep into a parallel parking space on a busy street in the city blocked traffic, causing him wail, "I'm so embarrassed!" He likes dogs, is gay-friendly and I think can't sing to save his life. He set off a security alarm while admiring a tiny videorecorder and gave me a look of pure panic and hissed, "Run away!"

He drove me back to my car (parked ridiculously far away) and asked me to go for the Sunday session with him and his friend. He'd already called said friend twice to tell him he'd be late. I was going to say no. But then he looked at me the way the Pocket Ex and Rockstar looked at me once and said, Come, I'm really enjoying your company, and somehow I ended up saying yes.

I end up going for a movie with him after the Sunday session. Somewhere around the time Coraline goes back to her Other Mother for the second time, he's taken my hand and suddenly the movie becomes a little harder to concentrate on. We walk back to my car that way.

The kiss, when it comes, it unexpected but I fall into it, and I go for my classes the next day with bruised and swollen lips. I'll cook for you, he told me, looking up at me through long fringed lashes, his eyes searching for mine.

The aftermath?

After that date, I am freaked out and ready to run. Too much, too soon. And it felt like he would make it too easy. I don't know what I want, and I don't know what the rules are anymore. I woke up a start at 4 am the night after and smoked a phenomenal number of cigarettes until the next time I saw him again.

On the second date with Captain Starlight, he cooks and sets a table with tealights. I bring wine, drink far too much of it too soon, turn bright red and start babbling rubbish. I blame the lack of sleep, the lack of food, too many cigarettes and anxiety. (And genetics, of course.) He surprises me with dessert, bringing me to a place he heard me mention that I wanted to try while I was talking to Stryfer on my phone while we were on our first date. I am high as a kite and eventually end up dozing on his chest because my eyes won't open. I end up crashing on his couch because I'm in no shape to drive home. He refuses to take advantage of me, manages to dress me in his shirt for warmth ven though I'm floppy as a ragdoll and giggly, brings me a blanket and a pillow, tucks me in and kisses me goodnight. Go to sleep, beautiful girl, he says before he goes up the stairs.

I wake up the next morning cranky and desperately needing to go home. I am in full freakout flight mode and making a beeline for my car when he stops me. I turn, and he's standing in the courtyard, his arms held apart, the expression on his face clearly saying, hug? I sigh internally, go back, do as desired, then run for it. I am jittery and burning up with the desire to escape, to suck down a lungful of sweet clove-scented smoke.

And that was date 2.