Little Miss Valentine

Chapter II: Oui?

Little Miss Valentine | Chapter 2 | Oui?

"Haven't we met? You're some kind of beautiful stranger. You could be good for me, I have a taste for danger." - Madonna.

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"God, I'm sorry. So, so, so sorry. This is totally and completely my fault. Here, I'll help you out." I profusely apologised, kneeling and helping the boy pick up the papers he dropped, or rather that I knocked out of his hands. I watched him haphazardly shove the ones he'd already picked up into a yellow folder. The boy started muttering to himself angrily, not looking at me once.

I didn't exactly speak the language, so I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I listened to enough Aya Nakamura music to recognize that he was speaking French.

"Um... oui?" I said sheepishly, closely followed by a sigh and the sound of Robbie's palm slapping against her forehead.

The boy looked up from the mess on the floor and made eye contact with me, giving me a good look at him for the first time. Judging by the look etched on his face, I clearly didn't have the right answer.

I've been going to Ivy Rose for years, so I've seen different faces pop up now and again and walk in and out of those two front doors, some of them stand out to me and some tend to blend in with the crowd after a while. I knew instantly that this boy was new here because his face isn't one I'd easily forget, I'd recognise him in a crowded room from a mile off. 

To call him gorgeous would be an understatement. Bright, icy blue eyes, defined cheekbones with a jawline that could cut iron, both his earlobes were pierced with small black rings. His general attractiveness was unfortunately balanced out by the ugly scowl he was sporting, his glare cut deep and he looked at me as if I was the biggest idiot on the planet... which I honestly felt like right now.

So I'd just made a complete tit of myself in front of a hot French stranger. Nice going, Aja.

"Sorry, I didn't see-" I began.

"I don't care." he snapped, cutting me off and snatching the papers I'd collected out of my hand and standing up. He slowly began to walk away. "Just don't be an idiot and watch where you're going, thanks."

Just like that, any apologetic feelings I had flew right out the window.

"Jeez, who shit in your Weetabix this morning?" I called after him, standing back up and straightening out my blazer. The boy stopped in his tracks and slowly turned back around to face me, tucking the yellow folder under his arm and staring me down with a mixture of confusion and agitation.

"I'm really not in the mood for this, you know." Mr French Asshole said, raising his eyebrow at me and cocking his head to the side.

"Well, it's your lucky day, because neither am I." I fired back. I like to think of myself as a non-confrontational person 95% of the time, unless you catch me at the wrong time, on a wrong day, in the wrong mood, and happen to be the wrong person to do it.

"I'd take that tone right back down if I were you." the boy fixed his cold gaze onto me and took a few steps forward. I think expected me to start backing up, but I stayed still and rooted to the ground, my hands firmly placed on my hips.

If he was trying to intimidate me, he was failing miserably. His threatening expression only made me want to laugh in his face and he had no height to tower over me, he was just as tall as I was, couldn't be any taller than around 5'11.

There was nothing funnier to me than when boys tried to act all hard-ass, but they wouldn't know what hard was if it slapped them across the chops.

"Or what? What will you do? C'mon, make my day." I took a step closer to him and clasped my hands together, still not breaking eye contact.