casablanca, ˚⊹ trent alexander-arnold

003. ❝pretty little idiot❞

"Will I see you again?" Trent searched her face for a response, as she moved further and further away from him.

Yara had already made it back to the corner they had come from, before she looked over her shoulder and threw him a dazzling smile. "What's meant to be will be, Trent!"

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

003. - PRETTY LITTLE IDIOT.

It was around midday, an unusual time for Yara to be out in public in disguise. But her parents were out of town visiting relatives in Rabat, and she had taken the mere opportunity she saw. 

She was further out into the main town this time, and still wearing her excessively large sunglasses. But it was unusually cool, and so she could hide under a hoodie instead of that hideous cloak she usually wore as it was the only inconspicuously large garment either her or Faiza had, with thin material. Yara could hardly wear a silk gown worth more than the cafe she sat in; if she was trying to be covert.

A book in her hand, and a cappuccino on the table at her disposal, Yara couldn't be happier. It was duly refreshing to bask in the midst of the scenery, than have to solely witness it from the so-called safety of her bedroom balcony.

Yara's attention was soon drawn away from Khalid Hosseini's A Thousand Splendid Suns, as a familiar voice called her name.

Or rather, that of her housekeeper.

She peered over her the chunky frame of her sunglasses only to make eye contact with Trent; the culprit of her disturbance.

"You again," he smiled, putting his hands on his hips as he panted slightly. "Are you following me?"

"Hah," Yara scoffed. "I'm already sat here, and you just appeared. I must be following you." She nodded sarcastically.

While he smirked and caught his breath, she took that moment to indulge in his appearance. He was wearing a red, sleeveless tunic that perfectly displayed his muscles. Yara concluded that he must have been on a run, as his biceps glistened with the fruits of his labour. 

"You like what you see then?" Trent smiled mischievously at her, baring a few of his pearly teeth while doing so.

Yara rolled her eyes. "You can't say shit like that so loud in countries like this." she muttered through gritted teeth, beckoning him to come closer so that he didn't have to so belligerently raise his voice.

"Shit like what?" he feigned confusion; going as far to scratch his chin for full effect.

"You know you're talking provocatively, now don't be coy." Yara mumbled. "Do you want a coffee?" she asked, turning a new leaf as he took a seat at her table.

Trent paused for a moment, pondering. "I could use a little bit of sugar after my run, I suppose." he nodded. "Do I go inside to buy, or is it table service?"

Yara slowly stood up, waving him off with one hand as she inserted her bookmark with the other. "Don't be silly, I'll get it."

"What?" The boy looked taken aback; as though he wasn't used to others paying for him. "No, don't do that." Trent leaned over, grabbing her hand.