Love At First Text ✔️

Her

Eden Holland chewed on the cap of her ball point pen. Not one of her best habits, but it was far better than picking at the skin of her lips with her teeth, which had left them bludgeoned and bloody on several occasions.

The material before her just made absolutely no sense. Not because the content was difficult - she understood it more coherently than most things she had learned in her life. No, she just could not comprehend it, and each time her phone trembled with a notification on her desk, she found herself discombobulated all over again. His name - or lack thereof - continued to pop up on her phone screen, with a message or two each time. Perhaps ignoring him would deter his need to respond, but every few minutes, she found her thumbs tapping away rapidly to respond as discreetly as she could between her knees beneath the graffitied table.

Her lecturer never minded seeing phoned in his classroom, however Eden reckoned that with the ratio of her texting to actually working, she was taking the royal piss.

Eden:
Is there truly nothing else you have to do other than message me?

Send. She placed her phone gently back on top of the desk. Screen down.

It would be a lie to say she minded the handsome stranger messaging her. When the puzzle pieces finally connected, and she realised who Zoya had given her number to, she was quite a little more than ecstatic. Eden had spent most of her night gawping at the male, and those few moments she averted her eyes, she spent talking about him. But that was Eden. A serial singleton, with a trail of failed dates and short lived romances behind her. Her frail little heart had suffered enough breaks that she refused to lay it on the line again, and so window shopping it was. Or in this case, playing completely hard to get and wholly uninterested.

Still, fantasising about her whirlwind romance with the man was good enough for her. She was bound to be shorter than him - Eden was petite, and he, tall and broad, wearing clothes that fit him in a way that accentuated the intricate work of muscle and sinew she knew sat beneath. There was no doubt she would forever blush around him, what with that boyish grin and those dark eyes watching as she traced the dark ink of the tattoos on his glowing topaz skin from his knuckles up to his shoulder.

So she was a romantic, and unashamed. Although, she had no intention of telling him all of this in her replies, for fear of dying with embarrassment. More so than ever, since coming to understand that Mr Perfect was a player. Player. When was the last time such a nickname was ever used, Eden? She could have kicked herself when she pressed send on that message.

Perhaps it was naive of her to think he could have been anything but. Model worthy, and sat on his own with the two other couples. Maybe his girlfriend could have been busy, but his friends did not seem at all off put by his gentle flirting with the glass collector. In fact, they hardly turned their heads, the blonde and the brunette too busy giggling between themselves and the other two... well, she wasn't sure which she marvelled at more. The handsome stranger, or the fact the pair left alive after the seriously intense drinking competitions that the boisterous girl won every time.

She wished Zoya and herself had a friendship group more like that. A close knit cohort of friends whom she could count on. Alas, in university and outside, it was just the two of them. Although, she was sure that table of five could squeeze two more...

Buzz!

Her hand instantly flew over to the phone, though stopped hovering above it.

No, Eden, she thought. Three minutes, always three minutes. Any sooner, and he would think she was eager. Any longer, and he might grow bored and stop messaging her altogether. Wasn't that what she wanted? For someone who strayed away from dating, falling into a rapport with the charming player seemed like a recipe for an epic fail. Yet, she couldn't stop the giddy feeling that strummed through her blood and pulled at the corner of her lips. She could settle for a regular exchange of messages for the time being.