Forged Through Fire
After what felt like far too long, Torva finally had a chance to do something she’d been longing to do since that fateful night some weeks back: message Jaren and see if he was available for a get-together, especially now that she had some free time on her hands.
It would be the first time they had seen each other face to face since the Zinder event, and so she hoped and prayed that he would have some free time available as well. She had yet to cook him a steak, or bake him any of her goodies. She wanted the chance to do so, to prove to him the claims she had made in the light of the bonfire - and so much more. She had wanted to learn more about him, his likes and dislikes. She wanted to have the chance to see his smithing work in person, and to finally give him the small gift she’d been working on in their absence, when time had allowed for it.
But as she sat down and opened up the datapad and pulled up Jaren’s contact information, Torva hesitated. She chewed her bottom lip as a sudden jitter of nerves came over her.
What if he had lost interest? What if he had moved on? She half expected it to have happened; she wasn’t naive enough to think that what had started to blossom between them was what others might call “love” - but there certainly was a strong attraction there.
They had kissed. Perhaps foolishly, recklessly, in hindsight. They had only just met, afterall.
But Torva had heard stories of others finding their partners and doing the same - knowing in their heart that the other person was someone special, someone to pursue and not let go. She had felt that way with him…did he feel the same about her?
There was only one way to know for certain - and so she pulled her courage together and sent him the message:
Hey Jaren! I hope you are well. I finally have some free time on my hands, I thought maybe we could actually meet up and spend some time together in person, if you are available? I still owe you a steak and some cookies you know. Talk to ya soon! -Torva
The red head’s thumb hovered over the ‘Send’ button for a heartbeat or two, before she pressed it and exhaled a breath she had been holding. She sat back on the couch, and stared at the screen for a moment longer. Now, all she could do was wait and see if he would respond. He was a busy man, sometimes he would go days between responses. She told herself that she understood why, but there was still that voice in the back of her mind that made her uncertain.