The ride was quiet, the only sound coming from the low hum of the radio near the dashboard.
Neither of them spoke.
Salomé stared out the window, watching the city slip past in streaks of light and shadow. Beside her, Giovanni sat still—hands resting loosely in his lap, gaze fixed ahead.
By the time the cab pulled up in front of the theater, the sky had deepened into night.
The theater was bustling—maybe because it was the weekend. The air buzzed with movement and laughter, the sidewalk pulsing with energy.
People weaved past them—talking, laughing, some already clutching tickets or popcorn.
Giovanni paid the driver, and they got out, walking to the entrance shoulder to shoulder.
Salomé's eyes swept over the crowd, catching glimpses of couples everywhere—hands intertwined, bodies leaned close, easy smiles traded like secrets.
Some were practically meshed against each other, giggling, murmuring, wrapped in their own soft little bubble.
She swallowed.
The flicker of unease wasn't jealousy—more like disorientation. Like she'd stumbled into a scene where everyone else knew the script, and she was still flipping through the first few pages.
Beside her, Giovanni walked calmly, his expression—as always—unreadable.
They entered the building, the lights inside were dim and cool.
Giovanni reached into his pocket and pulled out the tickets, handing one to her.
"You go ahead," he said, nodding toward the hallway. "I'll grab popcorn and drinks."
Salomé nodded. "Okay."
She walked toward the screening area, but hadn't taken more than a few steps when she heard quick footsteps behind her.
She turned and Giovanni was there.
"Do you, uh, have any preferences?"
She blinked. "Oh—uh. I'm fine with anything."
He studied her for a second, then nodded. "Alright."
And just like that, he turned and disappeared again, vanishing into the glow of the concessions area.
Salomé stood still for a moment before making her way down the carpeted hallway.
Something felt off about him.
He wasn't distracted. Just… somewhere between thoughtful and overly alert. Like he was either lost in his head—or trying hard not to be.
Or maybe, she thought, pausing at the theater door, maybe it was enthusiasm. A kind he didn't quite know what to do with.
She pushed the door open and slipped inside. The theater was quiet, lit only by the dim glow of the screen where previews were already rolling.
A low murmur of voices filled the space—people settling in, unzipping jackets, rustling snack bags.
Salomé made her way down the steps, scanning the rows for their seats. She found them toward the middle—two empty spots side by side. She slid into the one on the left and let her bag rest on her lap.
The screen glowed softly with previews, casting flashes of color across the room.
A few minutes passed. Giovanni still hadn't returned.
She kept turning toward the entrance—subtly at first, then more openly, her neck growing sore from the repetition. Each time the door creaked open, her head snapped up. Each time, it wasn't him.
Her fingers tapped restlessly on the armrest.
Just as the lights dimmed fully and the movie title stretched across the screen, he appeared—stepping into the theater, silhouette framed by the soft glow of the entrance light.
He held two bags, one in each hand.
He moved down the aisle carefully, scanning the rows. She lifted a hand.
When he spotted her, a breathless little smile curved his lips. He shuffled down the row with quiet apologies, the flickering screen catching the slope of his jaw, the soft curve of his mouth.
"Didn't know what you'd like, so I got a bit of everything," he murmured as he sank into the seat beside her, placing one bag on the floor and the other between them.
Salomé glanced inside. Popcorn, soda, water, chocolate, gummies, candy—and five different drinks.
She blinked. Then looked at him.
His eyes were fixed on the screen, but his posture was stiff—shoulders tense, hands clenched loosely on his thighs—like he wasn't sure if he'd done too much or not enough.
A small smile tugged at her lips, unbidden.
And then, unexpectedly, her heart ached. Softly. Silently.
She reached into the bag and picked out a chocolate bar, leaning in just slightly.
"I think you outdid yourself," she whispered in his ear.
Giovanni felt goosebumps rise along his skin.
But he said nothing.
The movie began. It was an indie piece about a woman who left her job in the city, moved to a quiet seaside town, and started over.
Salomé was drawn in—completely captivated.
Beside her, Giovanni's eyes stayed on the screen, but his mind was elsewhere.
He wasn't following the plot. He didn't even know what the movie was really about.
His thoughts kept drifting to the young woman sitting next to him.
From the corner of his eye, he could see every flicker of emotion on her face—the small smiles, the stillness, the way her eyes shifted with the story.
Everything she did was beautiful to him.
He didn't know how yet, but he was going to tell her tonight. Somehow, he'd find the right moment.
He hoped he'd be brave enough.
He loved Salomé.
And he wanted her to know. Whether she felt the same way or not.
The credits rolled and the lights came up two hours later. Salomé exhaled and leaned back in her seat.
"Wow. Probably the best movie I've seen in a while."
She glanced at the bags between them. The snacks were still nearly full—only one chocolate bar and a single drink had been touched.
"We barely made a dent," she murmured, glancing at Giovanni.
He gave a quiet shrug. "We'll just take it home."
They stayed seated a moment longer, neither in a hurry to move.
When they finally stepped out of the cinema, the night air was crisp. The city hummed gently around them—bustling with people, the glow of streetlights, and the murmur of passing conversations.
They walked side by side, no real direction in mind.
"Are you sure I can't help with one of the bags?" Salomé asked again, glancing at the overloaded plastic bags in his hands.
"I'm good, really," Giovanni said with a small smile.
"I should've been more specific," she muttered. "It just feels like unnecessary cargo now."
"It's not that heavy if—"
"Street food!" Salomé suddenly exclaimed, startling a few passersby.
Before Giovanni could respond, she darted ahead, weaving into the crowd toward the stalls, leaving him blinking in confusion behind her.
He laughed under his breath, adjusting the bags in his hands before following her.