Late afternoon light poured through the skylights of the mall, painting the tiled floors in soft gold. Racheal and Felix strolled together, the soft hum of chatter and distant music echoing around them. They weren’t in any rush—just wandering, browsing, letting time slip quietly by.

Racheal—ever the practical one—picked up a few bath products she’d run out of. But even as she shopped, her mind was miles away. She kept glancing into store windows without really seeing them, her ears twitching in thought. Felix noticed; he always did.

He offered a small smile and nudged her shoulder. “C’mon, let’s take a break. Food court’s calling our names.”

A short walk later, they found a spot by the window, trays set down between them. The smell of fried food and sugar hung in the air. Felix unwrapped his sandwich, but paused when he noticed something unusual—Racheal hadn’t touched a thing. Her juice sat untouched, her tray perfectly neat.

He leaned in, concern softening his features.

“Alright, what’s going on, Racheal? You’re not eating—that’s a rare one for you.”

Racheal blinked, caught off guard. She looked down, brushing a paw against her cheek as if trying to gather courage.

“It’s kinda nothing…” she began, voice quiet. “My family reunion’s coming up in a few weeks. My mom wanted me to invite you, but I said it was too early to meet everyone. Then she suggested dinner—with both our parents.”

Felix leaned back slightly, the words settling between them. The mall noise seemed to fade, leaving only the soft clatter of dishes nearby.

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked carefully. “I’m sure my parents would love to meet yours. You know I could bring some great food to the party. Why’s it bothering you?”

Racheal hesitated, her ears drooping. The silence stretched just long enough to sting.

“I just think… we’re only starting this relationship,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “It feels like things are moving fast. My head’s spinning. I don’t wanna rush you—or myself. I like the pace we’re going.”

Felix nodded slowly. For a moment, neither spoke—just the soft scrape of plastic forks and the distant call of a smoothie blender. Then he sighed, looking at her with a small, understanding smile.

“I get it. I don’t wanna rush either. I like our pace too. But I don’t think dinner’s too much—it’s just that, dinner. They’re not expecting us to be planning a wedding or anything.”

He leaned forward, his tone gentler now. “How about this: we start with dinner with your parents, then mine. After the reunion, we can think about doing one with both.”

Racheal looked up, a small smile breaking through her nerves. She exhaled softly, relief loosening her shoulders.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Good,” Felix said, chuckling. “I love you, Kitty Cat.”

“And I love you, Whiskers.”

They both laughed—softly, genuinely—as they finished their meal. The tension melted away, replaced with something warm and steady.

Hand in hand, they left the food court, the mall lights gleaming above them like quiet stars, as the evening ahead waited—uncertain, but full of promise

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