Work before play

Two hours later, at the public plaza, a sublime figure was standing next to the fountain. Smooth, shiny skin showed between the tops of thigh-high stockings and the hem of a jade skirt. A blue blouse softened the look, subtly complementing the tones in the shoulder-length blonde hair. The round chestnut eyes were partly hidden behind rounder glasses—but we both knew it was also to dissimulate the blushes.

The arms—sturdier than the delicate outfit suggested—clutched a pastel-pink designer handbag. Great choice for a birthday gift, I know.

The little creature sprinted towards me with sparkling eyes and arms flung wide. Before I could brace myself, I was wrapped in a tight, bouncing hug that lifted me off the ground like a burst of joy.

That little whirlwind of affection was my boyfriend, Elian. Not my girlfriend who was born a boy, not a boy who was sometimes a girl, just a very cute boy who liked dressing even cuter.

On that particular date, I was the one in the crisp white shirt. Buttoned just enough, it hugged my shoulders in all the right ways, paired with loose designer jeans that swayed with every step. The short black wig—okay, maybe not a summer's best choice—added just enough flair to make the sweat worth it. Beauty demands some sacrifice, after all.

I did wear sunglasses at least. I know hiding the emeralds that adorned my visage should be considered a crime—but for the next few hours, they were meant only for him.

Once my lovingly fierce Eli finished squeezing the air out of me, he gently lowered me back to Mother Earth and nervously shifted his gaze. His cheeks were already gaining color.

"Sorry, Dahlia. I missed you—a bit, a lot, too much."

I simply stroked his hair, a gesture that felt natural given our height difference. Then I flicked my hair and offered my hand.

"Shall we go?"

The sun beat down harder than I liked, making the air thick and sticky against my skin. Thankfully, relief came as we slipped into the cool shade of the local mall—one of our regular haunts. As usual, the place hummed like a busy hive, and I caught more than a few lingering glances admiring our every move.

I welcomed the attention—but I knew Eli hated when our dates got interrupted. That's why I only dressed like myself when we were out of town, where people were less likely to recognize me. I didn't mind, though. I was beautiful no matter my outfit, and I enjoyed the thrill of trying different looks.

Our first stop was our fave clothes store. We both had our eyes on a few new pieces for our wardrobes.

We were welcomed with a smile from the clerk, and a dazzling greeting from the rows of clothes waiting for us. I helped Eli choose between a beige and a light brown blouse—a particularly tough choice—to go with his best skirt. As for me, I knew exactly what I wanted: the same dress I already had at home, just one size bigger.

Wipe that grin off your face, you hear? I admit it, the zipper and I had a disagreement—and I lost. Turns out that when you start eating like a human being your clothes take it personally.

Still, it was for the better.

Taken to the extreme, anything turns ugly. I had taken the sacrifices too far. And you might ask: did I really care about beauty that much? Was it enough to justify pushing myself that hard? First—yes. Second—no. That wasn't the main reason.

I did it for Eli.

So when he broke down in tears after I collapsed the summer of the previous year, that was exactly the wake-up call I needed.

After that, I made a vow: health would come first. And honestly, a healthy body is a beautiful one—so the shift wasn't hard at all.

If only I'd applied that lesson to the rest of myself too…

Whoops, that got a little heavy. Let's return to the sweet stuff, yeah?

After we each got our piece we headed toward the register—until a pair of high heels gave me puppy eyes. Then Eli spotted a leather belt that would go marvelously with one of his jeans, and… let's say we stayed a few minutes more than expected.

We could've happily spent the whole evening trying on outfits—and the date would've been just as satisfying. But we had more plans. After all, we never knew when we'd get another chance to see each other.

And so, with a heavier weight on our hands—that would soon make our wallets lighter—we got in line. There were only two people ahead of us, but that number doubled when Eli kindly let a mother and her child cut in—"Just one item," he said. The gesture was so heartwarming I wanted to pinch his cheeks, but I restrained myself. At least that time.

We left the store with three full bags—not much by our standards, to be fair. And we still had a hand free to hold each other's.

Next, we headed toward a coffee place we frequented. The strong, energizing aroma was already filling my chest from half a block away.

But we never made it there that day.

Let me explain: nearby, a slightly flustered girl struggled with her map—flipping it upside down repeatedly as she glanced around.

I didn't notice her at first—I just felt Eli tug my hand, steering us toward her. His voice was sweeter than sugar when he spoke.

"Excuse me, miss, do you need some help?"

Her brow furrowed, and her lips trembled slightly as she answered with… well, I didn't actually catch what she said.

She spoke Spanish.

Neither of us knew a word.

But Eli put his public service experience to work, pulling out his phone and opening a pinned app without missing a beat.

He didn't just break the ice—he melted it.

It was such a sight, watching him effortlessly overcome the language barrier and turn the girl's frown upside down in just a few moments. His round eyes shone with warmth, comforting her, while his clearly improvised but confident hand signs made her chuckle as she nodded along.

Of course, I wasn't about to be left behind. Phone in hand, I was already searching for clues about the place she was trying to describe, as Eli translated word by word using his phone.

We both looked as radiant as stars.

Eventually, Eli translated a "thank you very much" from the girl, who now looked much more confident with her map—by the way, her phone was dead, which was the main reason for her predicament. As me and Eli were just about to wave her goodbye, she said something that unintentionally prolonged our conversation.

"I love your looks. You both are pretty." Was the rough translation.

"Thank you, miss," Eli replied through his app. The girl then looked at me.

"And you are very handsome. Did not expect that a girl would look so well in clothes of man."

"Aww, thank you. It's just a matter of putting in the effort. The great thing about our time is anyone can look dazzling—as long as they really want to."

"Really? Can you give me some tips, please? Want to try an outfit like yours one of these days?"

And with that, there was no stopping me. I went into full-on preaching and boasting. From the outside, it may have seemed like a simple, cheerful conversation—but beneath, everything was rotting.

It was supposed to be our date, yet Eli spent the next thirty to fifty minutes acting as a mere translator. Our time together was already running short before, but at least we were working together—and helping someone is never a waste of time. But this last part was more about me stroking my ego than actually helping, since the girl didn't have a use for half of the three dozen tips I was giving.

Both the girl and Eli were too polite to call me out on my ramblings. So I kept going and going, never noticing how Eli's smile twitched more with each sentence I forced him to translate. And I would've continued for who knows how much longer—if he hadn't received a call.

Taking advantage of the moment, the girl waved goodbye while Eli was on the phone.

I felt like a child whose playtime was over, and I even had the nerve to get bitter about her leaving. I'd give anything to go back to that day and slap myself right then and there.

Anyway, he soon finished the call, and from what I caught, I had a fairly clear idea of what was going on.

"Eli, did you leave work early again?" I asked, my tone more scolding than curious.

"No, they just wanted me to work overtime. But I told them I had a date and left at my usual time."

"And now they called because they can't handle the clients without you, right?" I said it, deliberately trying to make him feel guilty.

He shifted his gaze. "Yeah."

"You know what I'm going to say."

"But Dali, our date—"

"Work before play. Dodging your responsibilities isn't pretty."

He sighed—not a deep one, but a contained breath. He was holding himself together and I can't blame him.

Blind to his feelings, I placed my hands on his shoulders. "Come on, Eli, they need you."

"Yeah, I know."

But he needed me too, and my head was too far in the clouds to realize.

I gave him my warmest hug, followed by a kiss—more a consolation prize than a proper goodbye—and then gently ushered him out.