Selina spent the whole day with a soft hum under her ribs.
Not anxiety. Not fear. Not the old instinct to brace for impact.
Something gentler. Something hopeful. Something that felt like wanting — real, honest wanting.
Tonight wasn’t just a date. Tonight was the second date.
The one where things begin to mean something.
She finished her shift, changed into a clean shirt, and walked toward the riverside food truck park where Elias had suggested they meet again. The warm Brisbane night wrapped around her, cicadas humming, the river shimmering under soft lights.
Elias was already there.
He stood near a string of lanterns, hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels like he was trying to contain excitement. When he saw her, his smile lit up — warm, relieved, quietly thrilled.
“You came,” he said softly.
“I wanted to.”
They walked slowly along the river, the air warm and fragrant. Elias didn’t rush the conversation. He didn’t fill every silence. He let things unfold naturally, like he trusted the space between them.
Selina felt herself relax — not because she was hiding, but because she didn’t need to.
They stopped at a small lookout over the water. The city lights shimmered, the breeze gentle. Elias leaned on the railing, glancing at her with a softness that made her chest flutter.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked.
Selina nodded.
“I like you,” he said. “Not just the easy parts. All of it. The quiet. The steady. The way you think before you speak. The way you care about things.”
Selina felt her breath catch — not in fear, but in recognition.
She liked him too. She liked his steadiness. She liked his gentleness. She liked the way he made space for her without asking for anything in return.
“I like you too,” she said — steady, honest, brave.
Elias’s shoulders relaxed, his smile softening into something tender.
He reached for her hand — slow, careful, giving her every chance to pull away.
She didn’t.
Their fingers intertwined, warm and sure.
Selina felt her heart open — not in a rush, not in a flood, but in a steady bloom she didn’t try to stop.
She wasn’t afraid of wanting more. She wasn’t afraid of being wanted. She wasn’t afraid of letting something real begin.
Tonight, she let herself want — fully, quietly, beautifully.
At home, she cooked something that tasted like wanting.
Something warm, rich, and a little bold. Something that felt like leaning forward instead of stepping back. Something that matched the soft thrill inside her.
She found beef strips, butter, garlic, pepper, and rice.
Perfect.
Tonight she would make Butter‑Pepper Wanting Beef, a dish she’d invented during a week when she needed courage but now cooked because she had courage — and something worth wanting.
As she seared the beef, she felt her thoughts settle. As the butter melted into a glossy sauce, she felt her chest loosen. As she plated the dish, she felt the truth settle into her bones:
She wanted more. And she was ready for it.
RECIPE — BUTTER‑PEPPER WANTING BEEF
Warm, rich, cheap, and perfect for nights when you let yourself want more.
Ingredients
250g beef strips
2 tbsp butter
2 cloves garlic (or garlic powder)
½ tsp black pepper
Salt
1 tbsp oil
1 cup cooked rice
Method
Heat oil in a pan and sear beef strips until browned.
Add butter and garlic; cook until fragrant.
Add black pepper and a pinch of salt.
Simmer until glossy and coated.
Serve over warm rice.
Notes
Costs around $6 for two servings.
Add peas or spinach for colour.
Tastes like warmth, bravery, and the quiet thrill of wanting more.
and then Add to home screen.