POV: you finally asked me out πAnd here I am, sitting across from you, looking straight into your eyes over the table. Thereβs something thrilling about this moment - the tension of βwhat happens next?β Do we just talk, laugh, taste each other's food? Or does the heat between us make it impossible to keep it innocent? π I like this kind of game, where every glance feels like a tease, every smile is a promise. If you had me across the table tonight, would you be able to focus on dinner, or would your mind already be undressing me undressing me with your eyes? π₯What are you hungry for?