“Do you want to have dinner with me on Sunday night?”
Kara asks the question casually—almost absentmindedly—as she sets out their lunch on the table, Lena busy finishing up the last bits of paperwork for the meeting with her new Japanese investor later on.
“Sure,” the brunette says without looking up. She puts another signature on the crisp white piece of paper in front of her before her hand stills suddenly as the other woman’s words sink in.
Because Sunday isn’t just any old day. This Sunday is—
Kara just asked her out for Valentine’s Day.
She can feel her heart stumble in her chest before it starts hammering against her ribcage with so much force that she’s afraid it’s going to burst straight through.
Because Kara just asked her out for Valentine’s Day.
Her hands shake as she slowly puts the pen down and she knows she’s being absolutely ridiculous—that she is severely overreacting right now.
But Kara just asked her out for Valentine’s Day.
Kara, her beautiful, wonderful, absolutely oblivious best friend who she’s been in love with for longer than she is willing to admit just made the first move.
She’s a wreck for the rest of the week, unable to concentrate on much of anything until Sunday rolls around and she’s in her bedroom, discarding outfit after outfit because none of them are right and nothing fits and she looks terrible and this whole night is going to be a disaster and—
Her phone chimes with a text from where it sits on her nightstand, effectively putting a stop to her rapidly spiraling thoughts because the ringtone alone tells her it’s a message from Kara.
Maybe she’s cancelling because she realized it’s a terrible idea is the first thing that pops into her head and she quickly reaches for her phone.
Kara’s message is the exact opposite.
[5:13PM] Really excited for tonight 💖
The restaurant isn’t one Lena has been to before—and, if she's being honest, probably one she wouldn’t be seen dead in if it wasn’t for Kara. It’s small and slightly dated, walls full of photos, memories, trinkets. There are candles on every table, the lights appropriately low, making it more intimate than the minimalist, well-lit restaurants Lena usually patronizes. It’s... romantic. (And she is definitely overdressed.)
Kara is across the room and stands up from her seat as soon as she sees Lena come in, pushing her glasses further up her nose in a gesture that's somewhere between habitual and nervous before a smile appears on her face, almost splitting it in half.
It helps put Lena at ease—at least a little bit.
She tries to remind herself that it’s just Kara, that they’ve done this countless times before. But none of those times were Valentine’s Day. None of those times were a date.
Well, there’s a first for everything.
“Hey,” Kara says softly once she reaches their table and her own “Hi” sounds equally breathless in response.
“You look beautiful.”
Lena can feel herself blush at the blonde’s words. It’s not something she usually does when she’s being complemented—quite the opposite, actually—but the way Kara says it, the way Kara is looking at her, makes her feel like she has never felt before.
“I got you these,” Kara says then, offering Lena a bouquet of flowers she can’t name. They’re beautiful, though.
She can’t remember the last time someone has gotten her flowers.
True, she gets them all the time from investors and business partners and men trying to sleep with her but they don’t matter. They don’t mean anything. This, though? This means everything.
They sit down across from each other at the small table, still smiling, and, immediately, a waiter appears next to them with two menus.
“The moussaka here is amazing,” Kara says not even bothering to open hers.
“Well, I guess I’ll take that, then.”
Kara beams at her in response.
“We’ll take a bottle of red as well.”
“Of course,” the waiter says, scribbling their order down onto his notepad before picking up their menus again.
“Thanks, Demi,” she replies and Lena isn’t at all surprised that Kara is on a first name basis with the waitstaff at this place.
She feels something—someone—nudge her knee under the table and, when she looks up, Kara is grinning at her once again.
“I’m glad we’re doing this!”
“Me too,” Lena agrees, folding her hands on the tabletop in front of her. She knows that she looks calm on the outside, collected, but—on the inside—her heart is hammering so hard that she’s sure it is going to jump out of her chest because she’s on a date with Kara and it’s Valentine’s Day and, for once in her life, everything is great.
There is one thing she is dying to know, though, so…
“What made you ask me out?” she asks, adding a finally in her head for good measure.
It’s not like she can blame the other woman for taking her sweet time—after all, she hasn’t asked her out either. But they have been best friends for so long—Lena has been pining for her best friend for so long—that she pretty much gave up all hopes of this ever happening (in this universe or any other) quite a while ago.
“Well, I thought we deserved a nice meal out instead of sitting at home moping around about the boyfriends we don’t have.”
This isn’t actually a date.
This is just Kara being friendly, just Kara being her best friend.
God, she is so stupid. Of course Kara isn’t interested in her like that. Why would she be?
She can feel the shame burn in her eyes, tears threatening to spill because she feels like an absolute idiot—a giant, lesbian idiot.
She needs to get out of here.
“I—excuse me,” she says before placing her napkin on the table and getting up, quickly hurrying off toward the bathroom.
She’s not going to cry in front of Kara. Not tonight. Because crying in front of Kara would mean admitting her unrequited feelings for her best friend and, thus, losing her—and she’s definitely not ready to do that.
So—like the mature adult and Fortune 500 CEO she is—she decides to hide instead.
Thankfully, the restroom is completely empty when she steps inside.
She should have known that this is too good to be true, that Kara would never—could never—actually reciprocate her feelings. Hell, she’s so goddamn stupid.
She looks at herself in the mirror, sees the rapid rise and fall of her chest and forces herself to take a few deep breaths. Panicking won’t help her right now. She needs to be rational about this.
The first thought that crosses her mind is that she should just fake an L-Corp emergency and get out of here but before she can come up with any specifics, the door opens and Kara steps into the small space.
“What’s wrong?” she asks immediately, closing the door behind her. “Did—did I say something or…?”
There is so much concern and worry in her eyes that Lena instantly feels bad about her reaction to all this.
“No. No. It’s fine. You’re fine.”
Kara takes a step closer, hand reaching out for her best friend, but Lena turns around—turns away from her—almost instinctively.
She can sense the blonde hesitate behind her—can almost see her bite her lower lip, her forehead creased in worry.
“Talk to me. Please.”
Lena closes her eyes as she lets her head hang in-between her shoulders because she knows there is no way she can resist the other woman; not when she’s pleading like that. (Not ever.) She should have known from the moment she left the table that this is a losing battle.
So she takes a deep breath, steels herself, before turning to face Kara again.
Might as well put it all out there.
“I thought this was a date, ok? A real one. And I realize how stupid that is but I just—”
She gestures helplessly, unable to explain exactly what she is feeling—what she was thinking.
She’s never been great when it comes to talking about emotions, probably thanks to growing up with the Luthors where repression and constraint were valued above all else. Maybe that’s why her relationship with Kara is so strong—because the other woman wears her emotions on her sleeve, has no issue talking about her feelings in minute detail. She carries the emotional weight for both of them. It’s one of the things Lena admires most about her.
Right now, Kara is quiet though, gaping at Lena with an unreadable expression on her face as seconds of silence seem like hours.
Lena can see her throat move as she swallows.
“Do you want this to be a date?”
She shrugs, a self-deprecating half-smile on her lips.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters,” Kara insists without hesitation and it sounds so earnest that Lena can’t help but scoff. Only Kara would try to be nice about this whole thing, reassuring her that her feelings are valid and that they should talk about it.
God, she really can’t do this.
She doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to embarrass herself even further. What she wants is to wallow in self-pity and drink herself to the verge of consciousness.
“Let’s just call it a night and forget this ever happened,” she says as she turns to leave.
“I want this to be a date,” Kara blurts out behind her without warning before she can make it very far and Lena whips around so fast she can hear her neck make a cracking sound at the suddenness of the movement.
The other woman’s next words are so quiet, she almost doesn’t catch them.
“I like you, Lena. I like you like you. I have for a long time.”
Lena can do nothing but stare at the blonde in surprise at the sudden turn of events.
“I was just too chicken to do anything about it because you’re way out of my league and I didn’t know how to bring it up and—”
Lena doesn’t let Kara finish the sentence. Instead, she makes a snap decision to throw caution to the wind for once in her life and go for it, no time for doubt or second-guessing herself. So she kisses Kara, right there in the middle of the small, run-down restroom.
It’s obvious that she wasn’t expecting Lena to do that because, for one terrible, horrible moment she doesn’t react; just stands there, stiff and slack-jawed. The apology is almost on Lena’s lips already when Kara reaches for her waist and pulls her closer, finally reciprocating.
Gently, Lena cups Kara’s face in her hands like she is afraid she might break under her touch as the kiss deepens to the point where it makes Lena’s toes tingle.
“Oh Rao,” Kara mumbles when they eventually break apart, eyes glazed over slightly.
Lena carefully runs one of her thumbs over the blonde’s kiss-swollen bottom lip.
Kara chuckles as she pushes her cheek more firmly into the palm currently holding it in confirmation.
“More than ok.”
“Good,” Lena breathes, pressing another quick kiss to Kara’s lips.
“And, just for the record: you’re definitely not out of my league, Supergirl.”