David's POV
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The sound of the clock on the wall swirls around my fragmented mind as I contemplate whether this impulsive decision was the correct one. I assure myself that I want to go through with this, although I am forcing myself to cling to the burgundy leather chair on which I am sat with every muscle in my body. Especially my gluteal muscles. It's not comfortable.
I try to tune out the upbeat music coming from the rather generously distributed speakers above my head, and focus on my thoughts. Why did I message him? This is just going to ruin everything.
I scour the menu for something that I will find appealing. I don't know why it!s so hard. I've eaten here a thousand times before...but never without him. Hopefully, not without him this time either.
I give up on the menu and stare blankly at the newly decorated wall. A cyan colour, painted thoroughly and neatly. An analogue clock to my right. And above my head, a curved lampshade made of metal. It's industrial, yet comfortable.
I feel my hands clench and the butterflies build up in my stomach as I look forward and see an attractive man getting out of his car wearing sunglasses and half-buttoned white shirt, exposing a chest with a medium amount of dark hair coating the top. His teeth are perfectly aligned with one another and his hair perfectly styled in that messy way that makes you look like you don't care even though we all know that it took you hours to get it perfect. He walks towards the shop entrance and I plaster a smile on my face as he enters the shop and walks towards me.
"Hey, David."
"Hello, Simon."
