Write Me A Love Story

03:

It wasn't long until my food came. It looked like Reece took his time with his remaining onion rings so I wouldn't eat alone. When the cashier brought over our tea, I smiled. "Thank you," I said to her.

"Oh, you're welcome," she said before looking out at the storm. The rain slapped against the café's door. "You two take as long as you need." She clapped her hands with a smile, taking slow steps back. "If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen."

"Got it, Mel," Reece said.

As she left, I grabbed a fry and looked at Reece. "You know her?" I asked. Then I cringed. How was that any of my business? Chill, Camila, chill.

"I mean I'm here a lot during the week," he chuckled, a sound so deep, I got good goosebumps. "I don't know her personally, but, her name," he shrugged and drank what was left of his lemonade, "feel like I gotta know that at least."

My brows lifted. I was curious. So, of course, I had to ask. "Why's that?"

Reece chuckled again. "I mean, how can I say thank you if I don't know your name, ya know?" He licked his lips before cocking a brow. "That's rude, don't you think?"

Well, I couldn't argue with him. He had a kind, personable way of approaching manners. It was nice. Really. Most people were so quick to just leave without a word, or too into whatever was on their phone to even acknowledge your existence. The fact that someone would purposely get to know you, even in the smallest way, to be polite, was friendly.

He was delightful. I liked him. But still, I had to ask another question. "So, um," I needed to break the ice a little more while I had the chance, "did you ever think of asking for my name?"

Reece lifted his brows as an innocent, almost shy grin graced his face. The look alone made me blush and bite my lip. As he rubbed the back of his neck and turned away, I reached for a fry before it became awkward.

"I did." He faced me. "But I didn't, does that make sense?"

Finishing my fry, I blinked at him. I was confused, but then again, I wasn't. Was he shy deep down? Did I do that? I giggled. "Maybe?"

Reece licked his lower lip before a husky chuckle left him. He reached for the tea he hadn't touched. "I guess I was waiting for the moment to fall on my lap." Taking a sip, he glanced at me. "Like today."

My butterflies swarmed again. I found myself staring at him, and I hoped I didn't look like an idiot because I felt warm, nervous, and excited all at once. I'd never had a guy take this kind of approach.

It was always: "Damn girl, can I get your number? You're fine, you know that? You got a man? If you do, he don't got to know."

That kind of introduction. I wasn't that type of girl. Honestly, because of those approaches, there weren't relationships either. Not that I was looking for one, I was too shy to try, but I didn't want a guy to focus on my body. I needed someone to focus on me.

Like Reece, who remembered the food I liked before knowing my name.

Thunder roared again. I glanced at the storm, biting my lip. Suddenly, the sound of the water reminded me of dystopian winds; a society shrouded in darkness disguised as a peaceful light. There was nothing good in a storm, but some found it relaxing, and calming. Like lies that blanket horrible truths.

"Do you like the rain?" Reece asked. His voice quickly pulled me from my thoughts and potential story idea. I looked back at him. With a smirk, he sipped his tea. "I kinda lost ya there."

I'd done it again. The blank stare into the distance. Following the plot bunnies as they weaved together innovative ideas that could possibly, maybe, absolutely be a story if I could just write it. This is why some writers prefer this weather, huh?