The restaurant sat just north of the river, tucked between a florist and a bookshop with fogged windows, it announced itself only with a single brass lamp above the door and the faint smell of rosemary.
Mira stood outside for a moment, the rain had softened to a mist, she wore a deep charcoal wrap dress with a narrow belt that she had tightened twice before leaving the flat. Low heeled, dark burgundy boots, the only pair she owned that weren't built for running or standing in the rain for three hours. Her hair was down which was unusual enough that Chen would have commented on it had he seen her, she wore a thin silver ring on her right hand and left the coat on the bed after taking it out of the almirah.
She glanced at the warm glow in the window and reminded herself she was allowed, she deserved one simple, carefree evening, with that thought, she pushed the door open.
Arthur was already there, dressed in a white Oxford shirt with the collar open, no tie and the top button undone, tucked neatly into dark navy trousers with a sharp crease down the front. His jacket was soft charcoal wool, paired with brown leather shoes, well-kept, but showing just enough wear.
Mira stared at him in awe, unsure if he realized how effortlessly put together he looked while trying not to appear so, she sat down across from him, "You're early."
"When it matters." He poured her a glass of water.
They ordered without looking at the menus for long, Mira chose the lamb, Arthur chose something with mushrooms and laughed about it.
"I have never had mushrooms before but tonight feels like a night for new decisions."
Across the city, in his flat, Chen sat on the kitchen counter eating cereal, his eyes were fixed on a photograph of the railway platform. He'd zoomed in on a detail Mira hadn't noticed, a small scuff on the marble, almost like a heel had stopped short. He set his bowl down, nearly messaged Mira, then put the phone aside; she was on a date, her first real one in years as far as he knew. He studied the scuff again, picked up his cereal and didn't sleep that night.
Miller wasn't resting, no matter what Arthur had said, he sat upright in the dark room, he'd given Mira what she needed, at least believed so but he knew what he hadn't spoken and he wasn't proud of that. Morse had moved from the foot of the sofa to the kitchen counter which Miller figured was either the cat sensing something was off or just preferring higher place, he decided to believe the latter, he did not sleep either.
Arthur walked Mira to her car, the rain had stopped completely by then and the river was flat and dark, she had her keys in her hand which should have been the natural end of it.
"I meant it." Arthur said like he was talking about weather, simply.
"I know you did." She turned the keys over in her palm.
"And you needed time before you said anything back, which is fine."
"I needed to be sure I wasn't just responding to a situation, adrenaline does things, cases do things, I wanted to know the difference."
"So now you know?"
"Now I know." She looked at him.
"My place is ten minutes from here." He smiled in the slow way he had, it started from his eyes and she felt something settle in her chest.
"I know where your place is." Mira looked at the river.
"I know you do."
She looked at him then really looked, the way she rarely let herself look at people, without noticing, without filing anything away for later.
He looked back, the brass lamp from the restaurant was still faintly visible behind him and in that light he looked certain and exactly like himself.
"Ten minutes." She held his hand.
His apartment was on the fourth floor, he unlocked the door without fumbling which she appreciated, inside it was warm and lived in, it smelled like coffee and old paper.
He kissed her in the narrow hallway before they'd made it properly inside, one hand at her jaw and one still holding his keys. She kissed him back without hesitation she'd expected from herself, the moment of internal negotiation but there was none of that, there was just his hands, the warm dark of the hallway, the keys finally dropped somewhere onto the side table with a soft clatter.
He took off his jacket, she helped, her belt fell somewhere near the door, which neither of them noticed.
Later in the quiet that followed, she lay on her back listening as his breathing slowed and settled into sleep, the room was silent, his arm rested across her and she didn't move it. She stared at the ceiling for a while feeling something close to peace, something she hadn't felt in so long she'd stopped expecting it.
Arthur's breathing was slow and steady; the room smelled like him, she gazed at his strong arms and sleepy face, he was heavier than she'd expected, she gently ran a finger through his hair, brushed it over his eyelashes, wrapped her arms around his bare back and kissed his forehead.
Arthur pulled her closer in his sleep, rested his head on her chest and his hand on her waist. She studied the line of his jaw, the way the sheets draped over half his body, she realized she wasn't thinking about anything at all, just existing in a warm room with someone who had looked at her like she was worth being certain about, with a man who had known he wanted her from the moment they met.
She was completely in the moment, which was rare for her. She kissed him, closed her eyes and drifted into sleep sooner than she'd expected. Through the crack in the curtain, occasional light spilled into the dimly lit room, the city carried on without them.
To be continued...