Blind date by dakdae on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

Scene:

The restaurant had a soft, cozy light, with tables separated by plants that added a touch of privacy. In the back, a young man sat nervously at one of the tables, checking his phone for the umpteenth time to make sure he was in the right place. He didn’t know much about the girl he was meeting, only that she had dark hair and was wearing a jacket with bold colors. He looked up when he heard the faint sound of wheels approaching.

She appeared at the entrance of the restaurant, her long, dark hair tied in a high ponytail, her large, bright eyes looking confidently around the room. Her black jacket with red details stood out against her fair skin, and her expression was serene, even warm. She moved forward with determination in her wheelchair, completely ignoring the curious looks that followed her.

When she saw him, she gave him a smile that disarmed him completely. He quickly stood up, but couldn’t help his gaze from flicking briefly to the wheelchair, noticing how her legs were missing, ending just above her hips. It was a detail he hadn’t expected. His surprise was obvious, though he tried to hide it as best as he could.

"Not what you were expecting?" she asked with a soft but firm voice, raising an eyebrow, her smile still intact.

He scratched the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. "No, I mean… I didn’t know, but it’s fine."

"Don’t worry," she said, waving her hand dismissively as she wheeled closer. "I’m used to that 'I didn’t expect it' face. What matters is that you don’t run away," she added with a light laugh that made him smile despite the tension.

She rolled up to the table and gestured toward the chairs. "Come on, I don’t bite. Unless you give me a good reason to."

He laughed with her, already feeling more at ease, and sat down. Throughout their conversation, she kept her eyes firmly on him, refusing to let the chair or her disability define the interaction. There was an air of strength about her, a presence that radiated confidence. Yet, as the conversation went on, her small gestures softened the atmosphere: the way she tilted her head when something made her laugh, or how she leaned in slightly, as if wanting to be closer to the conversation, her fingers absentmindedly playing with loose threads on her jacket.

At one point, she noticed he was still a little nervous, and in a soft, almost whisper-like tone, she said:

"Hey, seriously, don’t worry about this," she mentioned, gesturing lightly toward her wheelchair. "I’m much more than this. But if you ever want to ask something, I won’t be offended. I’d rather we talk about whatever, instead of pretending it’s not there."

He was moved by her honesty. As he looked into her eyes, he realized how strong yet sweet she was. In that moment, the fact that she was in a wheelchair stopped mattering; all he wanted was to get to know the incredible person sitting in front of him.