Love At First Text ✔️

Him

Seb decided it was no wonder than Eden wasn't interested. His game absolutely sucked. He hadn't realised how badly, because he had never had to work for a woman.

That wasn't what he was doing. He wasn't going to make Eden feel something towards him, only to shut her down. That was cruel, and vindictive, and not the person he was. He was only trying to see the authenticity in her claim – that she was, in fact, not interested. He wated to see if she flirted back, or at the very least, offered him some ground to work with.

Then again, telling a woman you don't know and had only messaged for a week that you're horny was not the greatest idea his drunk mind had ever had.

He was being completely genuine, however, when he had said he wanted to meet her. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He wanted a name to a face, a tone of voice to those messages. He wanted to see if she was really half the size of him, and he wanted to see her shade of hair in the light. He wanted to meet her, because if nothing else came from this exchange, it was too good to pass up. A friendship born from the most absurd, movie style moment. A single phone number, left by a stranger at a bar.

If they stayed friends, it could be a story they shared among others. They could go out drinking, and for food, or for coffee and a walk. Seb liked doing all those things. He loved doing them with Charlotte and Eli, and Collins and Lena, and Nat too, when she resurfaced from between a woman's legs. He enjoyed doing them alone, and frankly, he knew he'd enjoy doing them with Eden.

There was a part of him that wanted to meet her in person for an entirely other reason too. It is far harder to mask your truth when you not hiding behind a phone. Would she blush if he touched her. Would she look at the floor if he stared into her eyes. Would she hold her breath if he made a move on her. He hadn't quite grasped the reality that Eden might simply not be into him, and for all its childish connotations, he liked this chase. He liked that there might be a person out there, that would not sacrifice it all to be with him one night.

He'd had sex offered up to him his whole life. There was something about having to work for it that promised it would make it that much better.

He knew it made him sound sleezy and persistent, and maybe it was. Yet, Seb knew, with the surest of hearts, if Eden said no, just once, or looked even the slightest bit uncertain, he would stop. He would never force her. Not her, not anyone. That much, he was certain of.

He pushed away from beneath the car, wiping his forehead with his t-shirt. He was not in the focus of work today.

Seb:
What are you up to?

They'd spoken normally the past few days. The dynamic hadn't changed after Sunday night, thankfully. She was busy – work and uni – and so was Seb. The garage was constant, and he was there five days a week. He didn't despise his job, but he didn't much love it either. It was his own fault. He relied far too much on his parents' money, so skated through school and sixth form with no ambition. Then, when he turned eighteen, and his parents told him to start paying his own way, he shit himself. Found a mechanic that offered him decent pay and to train him up as an apprentice, and never looked to change the course of his life.

He wished he'd gone on to further education like his friends had. Sure, they complained to no end, about the workload, and their lecturers, and how they were so skint they'd had a breath of fresh air for breakfast for the past three mornings, but they were doing something. They would go somewhere, whereas Seb was stuck here, getting covered in grease and oil, sweating beneath vehicles, and giving himself callouses from holding the wrenches too tightly.

He supposed that was why he liked the freedom of dating so much. It was his enjoyment, the constant spontaneity. The different personalities of the girls that sat across from him or beside me, who looked different and laughed different and had polarising dreams and ambitions. They always smelled the flowers differently, some blushed in response to him, while other lidded their eyes and returned his flirting with a comment of equal calibre. Some wore short dresses, and others loose fitted jeans and a graphic tee. Some were chatty, some were shy, some were dominant, and some were submissive. But they were all fun, and distracting, and they offered him an escape from the mundane nine till five he was bound to for the rest of his life. They were what broke up the monotony of his days, and the sex was an added bonus too.