We leave the theater in silence. The quiet between us is ringing, almost tangible. I suggest a walk—Katrin nods, but something about her silence is unsettling. It feels strained, foreign.
She walks ahead, and I follow, each step deepening my doubts. Is she upset? Disappointed? Maybe she doesn't want to talk to me anymore? My thoughts race until guilt tightens around my chest like an iron band. Is it all going to happen again? Will she throw me out with my things, like she had before? This time, at least, I know what I've done wrong, and I feel the weight of my guilt. But what can I do? How can I fix this?
I catch up to her, stepping forward and gently taking her hand to stop her. Rebel Girl turns, and her eyes meet mine. I search them for answers, but they are as enigmatic as ever.
"Did I upset you?" I ask openly, trying to sound calm, though inside I am boiling with anxiety.
"Did you upset me?" she frowns slightly, as if she genuinely doesn't understand what I am talking about.
"I mean what I said in the theater. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I'm sorry," I force the words out, feeling them stick in my throat.
She steps closer and wraps her arms around my waist. Her touch is soft but firm, and it instantly soothes my nerves.
"You didn't upset me. I was just thinking…" Her voice is thoughtful, but there is no trace of resentment.
Katrin has left me stunned again with her behavior. She is so unpredictable, and it both fascinates and terrifies me.
"What were you thinking about?" I try not to sound too insistent, though I desperately want to know what is going on in her head.
"About our first time. I really wish it could be at my place. I feel safest there, and it'll be easier to relax," she replies, and her words make me freeze.
"You want us to, I mean, me to…" I don't know how to phrase it, afraid of saying the wrong thing.
Is Katrin really thinking about this? I'm not entirely sure she'd allow anything beyond kisses. We are close, but until now, everything has felt so fragile, so uncertain. And now she is bringing it up herself, and it fills me with a mix of excitement and fear.
"Yes, I want to make love with you too. But when—I don't know. Maybe at the end of your… desire, while I'm still your girlfriend? What do you think?"
I stand there, still unable to believe what this girl has just said. My thoughts are tangled, my heart pounding so loudly it feels like it could be heard from the other end of the street. My face burns, and my hands tremble slightly.
"Max, don't just stand there. Say something," her voice brings me back to reality.
I stand there like a fish, opening and closing my mouth, trying to find the words. Nothing comes out, my thoughts are a mess, and I feel like a complete idiot.
"Um… Well…" It comes out more like incoherent mumbling than an answer.
"I'm not forcing you, just suggesting. Let's go home, I'm tired," she says, turning to leave.
Her calmness only deepens my confusion. Rebel Girl is always like this—confident, bold, yet tender. And now, as she starts to walk away, I feel something inside me twitch. I can't just let her go. In a panic, I step forward and wrap my arms around her from behind, pulling her close. Her body is warm, and I feel her shiver slightly, but she doesn't resist.
"Do you really want me? Do you like me? As a man? Does it bother you that it's my first time? If anything, it doesn't bother me that it's not yours. Well, it does. I'd like to find him and punch him in the face as hard as I can," I begin to ramble, spilling everything that has been building up in my head. The words pour out as if I can no longer hold them back. I have been standing there, gathering my strength, and now, seeing her walk away, I decide to ask all the questions I've been holding onto.
"Wait, wait, baby. Slow down, I'll answer all your questions," she turns to me and begins softly stroking my face. Her touch is so tender that I start to melt under her hands, as if all my fear and tension are dissolving in her palm. I smile at her with the happiest grin, like a fool, unable to take my eyes off her. How I love her!
"As for my first time, I don't even consider it my first. I've erased it from my life, and for me, it never happened. Though, of course, my subconscious thinks otherwise, and it left its mark, but still."
She always knows how to find the right words to comfort me, even when I don't understand what I need myself.
"Let's go, I really want to go home. We'll talk about the rest there," she takes my hand. Her fingers intertwine with mine, and that simple gesture makes me feel like everything will be fine, and there is no need to worry.
"Alright," I agree, following her.
We walk home, and in that moment, I realize that despite all my fears and doubts, I am ready to do anything for her. She is my light, my meaning, and I know that no matter what happens, we will get through it together.