I especially didn’t believe in love at first swipe, considering the only thing I ever got from dating apps were guys who posed with fish, gym mirrors, or worse… their moms.
But then came Him.
Profile name: “HotTeaGuy88”
Bio: “Fluent in sarcasm. Might spill tea. Bring biscuits.”
Against all logic and better judgment, I swiped right.
And to my surprise, he messaged me first:
> HotTeaGuy88: Do you believe in love at first sip, or should I spill it again?
I laughed. Out loud. In a café. While holding a full cup of hot chocolate.
The cup went flying. My lap was soaked. The barista gave me side-eye. And that’s how I began my first online conversation—sitting in public with brown stains and dignity gone.
Chapter Two: Latte, Lies, and the Lying Blazer
A week later, I agreed to meet him. We picked a quirky book café called “The Stacked Shelf.” I wore my best blazer, pretending I wasn’t panicking. My best friend texted me mid-walk:
> Bestie: What if he’s a 60-year-old tea smuggler named Gerald?
> Me: Then Gerald’s getting stood up.
I entered the café and spotted him instantly.
Tall. Disheveled curls. Holding a paperback titled How Not to Be Shy on First Dates.
I snorted. He looked up, caught my laugh, and grinned.
> “Is that book helping?” I asked.
> “It told me not to sweat or say anything weird. I’ve already done both.”
We sat. Talked. Spilled actual tea. Literally. He knocked over his cup while mimicking a dramatic owl impression. I should’ve been embarrassed. But instead, I was smitten.
Chapter Three: Of Fake Breakups and Real Feelings
By date three, we were those people—laughing too loud, ordering one dessert with two spoons, texting memes at 2 a.m.
Then came the wedding invite.
My ex’s wedding.
I considered faking typhoid. Instead, I asked HotTeaGuy88—whose real name turned out to be Theo—to be my fake boyfriend for the event.
> “Are we talking ‘stand-there-and-smile’ or ‘passionate-fake-make-out’ kind of fake boyfriend?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
> “Just don’t let me catch the bouquet.”
We pulled it off flawlessly. Except for one detail.
He kissed me.
Not fake. Not uncomfortable. Not for show.
And I kissed back.
Chapter Four: When Accidents Are On Purpose
The morning after, I tried to play it cool.
> “That was… a very convincing performance,” I said.
> “I wasn’t acting,” he replied.
Cue heart stutter. Cue internal screaming. Cue me knocking over an entire box of cornflakes in aisle three of a supermarket where we happened to be buying cereal like a married couple.
That’s when he blurted, “I like you, okay? Accidentally meeting you was the best kind of accident.”
I stood there with cornflakes in my hair, smiling like a lunatic.
Maryshh
5 hrs agoChapter One: Love at First Swipe (Sort Of)
I never believed in love at first sight.
I especially didn’t believe in love at first swipe, considering the only thing I ever got from dating apps were guys who posed with fish, gym mirrors, or worse… their moms.
But then came Him.
Profile name: “HotTeaGuy88”
Bio: “Fluent in sarcasm. Might spill tea. Bring biscuits.”
Against all logic and better judgment, I swiped right.
And to my surprise, he messaged me first:
> HotTeaGuy88: Do you believe in love at first sip, or should I spill it again?
I laughed. Out loud. In a café. While holding a full cup of hot chocolate.
The cup went flying. My lap was soaked. The barista gave me side-eye. And that’s how I began my first online conversation—sitting in public with brown stains and dignity gone.
Chapter Two: Latte, Lies, and the Lying Blazer
A week later, I agreed to meet him. We picked a quirky book café called “The Stacked Shelf.” I wore my best blazer, pretending I wasn’t panicking. My best friend texted me mid-walk:
> Bestie: What if he’s a 60-year-old tea smuggler named Gerald?
> Me: Then Gerald’s getting stood up.
I entered the café and spotted him instantly.
Tall. Disheveled curls. Holding a paperback titled How Not to Be Shy on First Dates.
I snorted. He looked up, caught my laugh, and grinned.
> “Is that book helping?” I asked.
> “It told me not to sweat or say anything weird. I’ve already done both.”
We sat. Talked. Spilled actual tea. Literally. He knocked over his cup while mimicking a dramatic owl impression. I should’ve been embarrassed. But instead, I was smitten.
Chapter Three: Of Fake Breakups and Real Feelings
By date three, we were those people—laughing too loud, ordering one dessert with two spoons, texting memes at 2 a.m.
Then came the wedding invite.
My ex’s wedding.
I considered faking typhoid. Instead, I asked HotTeaGuy88—whose real name turned out to be Theo—to be my fake boyfriend for the event.
> “Are we talking ‘stand-there-and-smile’ or ‘passionate-fake-make-out’ kind of fake boyfriend?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
> “Just don’t let me catch the bouquet.”
We pulled it off flawlessly. Except for one detail.
He kissed me.
Not fake. Not uncomfortable. Not for show.
And I kissed back.
Chapter Four: When Accidents Are On Purpose
The morning after, I tried to play it cool.
> “That was… a very convincing performance,” I said.
> “I wasn’t acting,” he replied.
Cue heart stutter. Cue internal screaming. Cue me knocking over an entire box of cornflakes in aisle three of a supermarket where we happened to be buying cereal like a married couple.
That’s when he blurted, “I like you, okay? Accidentally meeting you was the best kind of accident.”
I stood there with cornflakes in my hair, smiling like a lunatic.
> “You’re ridiculous,” I said.
> “But charming.”
> “And mine,” I added.