The "Rare Skillet Steak."

“Does it have to be rare?” Astrid asks.

You shrugged. “No, but it’s how I remembered having it.”

“I like it red,” she smiles. She closes her menu and takes yours, handing it to the waitress who materialized out of nowhere. Also, out of nowhere were two glasses of white wine.

“You drink?”

Astrid takes the glass and drinks. “I drink.”

“We drink,” you take the glass and share a sip with her.

Was this normal? Astrid laughed at your jokes and listened to your stories as if she hadn’t heard or seen any of them before. It wasn’t fake. You knew she was intrigued by your way of executing these stories. Her questions were honest, genuine, and sincere even.

You avoided adult subjects such as sex, but you didn't shy from the less-glamorous side of your life. The ****. The sadness. The loneliness or inner turmoil. Astrid offered many words of wisdom. You felt her passion in her words and the reality of them too. You could listen to her voice all night. You ate your steak. It tasted good, as you remembered. It drew picture-perfect portraits of your memory when you first had it. You explained the story, and Astrid listened, poking with frequent questions that showed her interest.

Dessert came— it was her turn to pick, and she chose a cherry syrup-coated vanilla cheesecake. The story with this was a little bitter-sweet, but somehow the flavor highlighted not the bad but reminded you of the good of the situation. You told her this story too, but Astrid stopped you when you started to tease the morbid aspects of the meal.

“Don’t taint it,” she lightly scolded. “It’s good. And now, if you ever get this again, we can remember this.”

She stood up, and you followed her. She looked back and smiled. “I know we’re supposed to wait before swimming, but this hotel has a great pool too. We can dip in for a bit before turning in.”

“We’ll have to go somewhere for a swimming suit,” you explain as you pass through the doors that should have led to the lobby.

The smell of chemicals and the change of damp air told you it was the pool, however. Astrid is wearing a two-piece bikini with blue material. “No,” she giggles. “We’ll be fine.”

You were also dressed for the pool. Your suit was gone. All that was on you were swimming trucks. You wanted to focus on Astrid, but you had to admire the layout of this jungle-like environment that surrounded the pool.

Around you were the sounds of a jungle at night. It sounded realistic, but you somehow knew it was all coming from speakers in the trees.

Astrid submerged herself waist-high in the pool before turning to face you. Now that you’ve seen her from the front, the details around you didn’t matter much. You felt your throat tighten, as well as your trucks. You quickly slid into the water and waded toward her. Astrid pressed her chest together unintentionally as she moved.

“It feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You were confused at first, but she wasn’t done talking, so it gave you an accuse to stay quiet. “The cool air while being in heated water,” she purred. “It feels incredible!”

“Oh,” you said, sliding over to her side. “Yeah, it’s kind of like a hot spring.”

Astrid hugged herself. “I’m sure there’s a hot spring somewhere here, too. We could change where we are if you’d prefer.”

“Depends,” you grin at her. “Will you still be wearing that?”

She splashes. “You’re a flirt.”

“Can you blame me?” You splashed back, making her giggle. “You haven’t seen yourself dressed up like that. You’re practically screaming at me to shower you with compliments.”

She rolls her eyes before lowering herself into the water. Her hourglass figure becomes odd as the water shifts her shape. Her nose hovers above the water as she looks at you.

You lower down, too, so you are at eye-level with her. She squints and then lifts her mouth out of the water, spitting a mouth full of the pool water at your face. You jolt and wipe. “That’s gross.”

“It isn’t like the water you’re used to. You could probably drink this stuff all day, and you wouldn’t so much get a tummy ache.”

“—yeah, well—??”

Astrid tackles you playfully but quickly pushes away. “Oh, my God!” She wails. “You’re harder than a rock, Warren!”

At that moment, you became bashful, and your mind started to come up with excuses. But Astrid’s expression softens with a shade of pink. She bites her lower lip. “I don’t mind it,” she manages. “If it were anyone else, I would have been disgusted.”

You hold your breath; your eyes fixated on her eyes as the blue becomes brighter. The reflection of the sapphire water makes everything about the angel before you seem much holier. “But when it's you, I can’t help but feel somewhat successful…”

You can’t remember who initiated the last time you went intimate. Still, if Astrid wasn’t dealing her cards to treat you well, then you didn’t know what color a clear morning sky was. However, as you already recalled, your time with Astrid was always short. Did you really want to waste it with sex? You could simply swim with her for the rest of the night and sleep in the same bed without the sense you somehow wasted it to fill a void that would soon desire touch and climax later. Astrid was playing her cards, but would you let that ruin your night with her?