"Quin?" I question loudly over the stereo.

"Yeah, Beautiful?"

"Does this top go well with this skirt?"

"As I've answered for the past seven outfits, yes Scarlett," he replies exasperated, "Now would you quit worrying and just go to the damn restaurant?"

I look back to the mirror and huff in defeat. I feel like this should be easy: just picking out an outfit just like I would any other time before. Yet, somehow this time is different; I'm anxious and leery, but also excited and curious. It's as if my jumble of a mind has dumped itself into the physical world around me, because just about my entire wardrobe is lying in a circular heap. Currently, a cream lacy top and an ankle length teal skirt rests upon me, but I bet that's going to change soon.

"I don't know, I feel like it's too nice for just a lunch date," I ponder with my unsure tone.

"Well, why don't you just wear what you'd typically wear when you guys used to go on dates?"

Suddenly, realization hits me like a brick wall as I come to the conclusion as to why picking my outfit has been so hard: this is Damon and I's first date.

"We've never been on one before," I say with as much disbelief as is plastered across Quentin's face.

"What?"

"I...I really don't think we have. He forced me to go out with him once before, but that was just a quick dinner and I hated him then anyways. Other than that, every moment we've spent together has been at the camp site, his house, or my house; we've never actually gone out together."

"I can't believe my ears right now. So you two are madly in love and you haven't even been out on one date? This is insanity."

His comment catches my attention, "I am not in love with Damon."

"Are too."

"Definitely not. I mean, you said it yourself, we've never even been on a date before! How could I be in love with someone who I've never been on a date yet with?"

"I don't know. You guys are your own type of cliche."

"Mhm," I eye him suspiciously, "I will easily admit that I like him, maybe even love him, however being in love with him is uncharted territory."

"Well I guess we'll just need to get a map then! But first, let's make you super hot for your first date."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I open the heavy wooden doors to Tony's and walk inside. The aroma of pasta and bread immediately engulfs me and my mouth begins to water. The room is dimly lit with an individual light hanging above each table. I don't see Damon anywhere, but he may already be seated. I unconsciously tuck my hair behind my ear and walk towards the front desk.

"Welcome to Tony's! May I find you a table, or are there more joining you today?"

"Actually, I'm supposed to meet somebody here, but he may already be seated: Damon Black."

The hostess's face lights up and she smiles widely, "You're Miss White? My, what a lucky girl are you. Follow me."

Confused, I oblige and contemplate what exactly she meant by that. The only thing I can think of is she must've seen him and fallen head-over-heels for his obnoxious smirk and good looks. Annoyed, I cross my arms over my chest as I follow her through the restaurant. She winds in and out of tables until she meets a door. My annoyance shifts back into confusion as she holds the door open for me with a pleasant smile. I timidly step through and enter a small dim room with enough space for a single two-seat table. Instead of a hanging lamp, the table is illuminated by a large centerpiece candle and a couple candles surrounding the proximity. I take slow paces towards the middle of the room. Once I reach the table, I brush my fingertips across the satin cloth.

"I thought the candles were a nice touch over the lamp."

I jump, startled by Damon's voice. I hadn't even realized he was in here. I trace his voice to the corner behind me and am immediately taken aback. I've never seen him so clean-cut and groomed before. A fitted, black dress shirt sits tight across his chest along with charcoal grey chinos that hug his thighs. My eyes travel back up to notice a cream bow-tie wrapped around his neck, and he wore his hair just like I suggested. What amazes me most, though, is instead of receiving his signature smirk for staring, he makes his way towards me, grabs my hand, and lightly kisses my fingertips.

I feel my face flush, but he doesn't make an arrogant comment. He simply grabs the chair behind me, and pulls it out, waiting for me to sit. I'm stunned, but I sit before he notices. He takes graceful steps around to his side then sits down as well.

"Damon, what is all this?" I finally ask.

"You didn't think we were just going to 'have lunch' now did you? It is our first date Scarlett." he replies, a smirk starting to creep up.

"Well, quite frankly, I did. I mean, you've never shown any indication that you do this stuff before."

"May I remind you that you never knew me before I swore off to dating; I used to be very romantic."

I smile; another covered edge, and I thought I had found them all.

"So, if you're displaying a romantic gesture, and you did acknowledge that this is a date, does that mean--?"

"--That I want to date you?"

I nod my head and wait patiently for my answer.

"I do, and I think I always have. It's just...hard for me."

"I know, Damon."

He looks away and runs both hands through his hair. I watch as his fingers glide through unruly waves running down the back of his head. His arms fall to his side, but he still continues to look away. Nervous, I twiddle with the fork lying in front of me.

"Scarlett?"

I glance up at him through my lashes, "Yes?"

His face is stern, determined, "I'm going to try. If not trying means I lose you then I damn sure am going to try. These past few months have been so bland without you in them, and I couldn't even drop my pride to just text you and say 'I'm sorry'. But I am sorry."

"For what, lashing out at me yesterday?"

"For letting you leave that night."

"It's okay, you don't need to apologize Damon."

"But I do, so just accept it and quit trying to say I don't."

I laugh loudly and he looks at me quizzically. I calm down and give him an explanation.

"I like the romantic Damon I see now, but there's the Damon I know."

He gives me back a crooked half-smile, "I've missed your laugh. You look stunning by the way."

I feel my cheeks burn and I shyly reply, "Thanks."

The rest of lunch continued smoothly; our conversation carried on just like any other of ours would because, although it's been rocky, we're still completely comfortable with each other. We joke and eat; he says something arrogant and I get irritated, then he laughs, and so on and so forth. Before I realize, an hour and a half has slipped by, and as much as I hate to tell him, I need to leave.

"Damon, I have class in a bit, I need to go."

He looks sad, but stands up anyways and walks over towards me. He pulls out my chair and takes my hand. Before we leave, however, he stops us in front of the door.

"So, where does this leave us?"

I ponder his question for a few seconds, "I still need some time, a lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours. But, if anything, I'd say...courting."

Now it's his turn to laugh, "Courting? What, are we from the eighteenth century?"

I giggle, "No, but I don't know what else to call it! I suppose a more modern term would be 'talking'."

"No, I like courting," he says with a smile, but it soon turns dark, "As long as 'courters' still get to play, because you're irresistible Scarlett."

He leans in and nips at my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He follows a trial down to my neck, nipping and kissing along the way. I feel his arms snake around my waist and grab my shoulder. His hands don't stay put, though, as he drags them down along the curves of my body. I want to stand there forever, but I know I need to leave.

"Damon?"

"Hmm?" he asks quietly with his lips still placed against my throat so I can feel the sound vibrate against my skin.

"I really do need to leave," I say, although I have no desire to.

He releases me with a pout playing across his lips. I laugh and slap his shoulder before walking through the door. After he pays, we walk out of the restaurant and squint as we enter the bright afternoon sun. We walk all the way over to my class's building and stop right before the steps.

"I had a great time today, thanks." I say.

He opens his mouth to reply, but his phone rings. I nod to indicate that he can answer it, but as soon as he pulls it out of his pocket and reads the name, I can tell he doesn't want to.

"What do you want, Carter?"

I stand still, waiting to see how this conversation is going to turn out, although I don't expect anything good. I can hear Carter's mumbled voice, but I can't make out the words.

"Yeah, what's that got to do with me?" Damon asks, clearly annoyed by whatever Carter's saying.

Suddenly, though, his face blanches, and his eyes dart directly to mine. I'm starting to get nervous now, and I want to know what's going on.

"Okay, I'll tell her."

He pulls the phone away from his ear and continues to stare at me, as if he can't find the right words.

"What is it?"

"Well," he pauses, "Do you remember when my brother came up to get help from my mom on a case he was working on?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Remember how I said it was about some man that had been charged of domestic abuse and fraud, how he had been busted for it before?"

"Damon, get to the point."

"Scarlett...it's your father."