I came to this café because it's the only quiet one in town. No one comes here because the coffee is so watery.
There was, however, a really hot guy sitting a couple of tables away from me. I found it really hard to concentrate on Pride and Prejudice. I mean, honestly, he was so hot I could fry an egg on top of his head. Not that his hair was greasy. In fact, it looked so soft and silky that I wanted to—
Yeah, now you see why I read Pride and Prejudice. I'm a sucker for romance. Not just any romance, but ones with hot guys involved. This guy looked like a modern-day Mr. Darcy.
Anyways, watery coffee aside, this café is pretty nice. I mean, their éclairs are good. Always got to love the éclairs.
Okay, so it's not just the éclairs, though they're pretty much orgasmic. The walls are painted warm earthy tones like a rich chocolate brown and a deep mahogany. It makes me feel cozy. I could curl up on my favorite worn leather armchair and read for hours. The barista knows me and always gives me a knowing smile when I come in.
Back to Darcy. That's what I will call him from now on. So, I stared at him for a couple of seconds when I realized how creepy I was being. I wasn't even trying to hide my stare! It was so obvious.
That's when I noticed the mirror in front of me. Well, that was stupid. Here I was, turning my head a whole ninety degrees, when I could be discreet and stalk him from my handy dandy mirror.
Oh my God. I sound like a creep, don't I? Well, you would be reduced to a mirror stalker too if you saw how delicious he was!
So, I alternated my gaze between the mirror and my book.
" 'I cannot fix the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation—'"
Oh, drat it. How could I read about Mr. Darcy in a book when I had my very own hot guy with me? I stared at Darcy in the mirror.
Once I got comfortable with his chiseled face, my gaze moved lower. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter! I mean, I looked lower to see what he was looking at.
What was weird was that he was staring very intently at his glass mug. He looked to be in awe. Like he was eating an éclair. You, know, orgasmic.
Like I said, strange. It didn't really faze me though. You wouldn't care if he was stark raving mad either if you saw how—yeah, I think you get the point.
His emerald eyes didn't move. He would blink a couple of times before looking back at the glass. Yeah, okay, I was a bit curious. What was so interesting about the glass? It was just clear…and clear. I mean, why couldn't he stare at me? At least I was more interesting than a chipped little glass. Sheesh.
My curiosity got the better of me. I stood up and decided to call it a night. But not before I carefully passed his table to see what the hype was about.
I shuffled by innocently with my backpack in tow and made use of my peripherals. As I looked at his glass, I could only see one thing.
My favorite worn leather armchair.
His green eyes met mine.
Author's Note: Just a short little one-shot. My first one-shot ever! If you review, I'll send you cyber eclairs. I swear, they really are orgasmic. Hehe, I like saying that word. It makes people feel uncomfortable x
Oh, by the way, you might notice that I switched up the tenses a bit. That's 'cause I was making her tell her story as if she was telling it to her friends. You're the friend, I guess :)