Yours insanely

5.Knight in bloody armor

"A chocolate mousse, mini apple pie and three marble cupcakes," you mumbled the order to yourself before looking at the customers again. "Anything to drink?"

"An iced americano, please," he added courteously and you nodded.

"It'll take about five minutes," you said with a polite smile at the end before leaving the table of two.

It was the same person from yesterday. And you assume she's with a friend today.

You're just very observant. You don't want to come off as intruding or stalkerish but you just couldn't help but notice small details.

Your brain would save them in your head and you wouldn't even realize it until later.

One might say that to always remember is a blessing. Yet sometimes forgetting is the blessing we wish for.

It gets too crowded otherwise, with all the memories fresh and unforgettable, unable to move on.

Like that one time when you were eating in a restaurant by yourself and the fork slipped out of your hands and dropped loudly on the floor.

Adding to that, you tried getting the prawn out of the skewer with the barbeque fork.

But it wouldn't budge and you ended up knocking at the glass plates, after which the prawn you worked hard to get out also fell to the floor.

No, you don't even want to think about it.

You had kept glancing at the seafood on the floor ceremoniously for the rest of your meal, lips pursed in a thin line as you wondered why you were the way you were.

Nor did you want to think about the man that just stepped inside. All in the glory of his two piece suit and a natural strut.

No wonder the place was booked out for the afternoon. But why here?

The brownies were the current best. That should be the only reason.

You were standing by the serving counter, facing him as he looked at you steadily, almost intently.

It must be the brownies.

He did not avert his eyes, as if it was important that you see each other.

'Is there something on my face or does my outfit look weird?'

You thought, controlling the urge to look down at yourself.

It was a black t-shirt, your uniform, paired with your own jeans and it cut down on water bills.

Y/n.

He saw your name on the tag you were wearing, still standing there, and you wished the floor was really lava.

Shubman Gill, you admit, is very good looking. Very much indeed.

The beauty of a perfectly defined jawline. His toned chest revealed by the black button up undone on the top. His arms flexing under the sleeves of his blazer.

Tall, slender, graceful, bending in the breeze, yet someone made more cold than the weapons he possessed.

You didn't want to think about him like you did yesterday, after all the gossiping and information provided to you by fellow staff.

As long as you stayed out of the way and were minding your own business, you were all good.

You didn't realize how monotonous your life has been until you saw him, with such ethereal beauty presented in front of you.

Wouldn't it be nice to have a prince in your life too, sweep you off your feet and take you to your happily ever after?

All that happened only in fairytales. Reality was much bitter.

Shubman was a man of high social position, a sovereign person, trained to kill, living up to his title as the prince of the underworld. He was the knight in bloody armor.

He held his gaze for what seemed like hours to you, but was actually ten seconds, until he walked to his sister and his best friend, sitting across them on the more private side of the café.

It had a lounge couch, for specific people and other reasons.

You were let in on a small news that sometimes such spots are chosen for shady business, and the couch always comes in handy for people who meet up and decide not to kill each other.

Still surviving in the town.

The order was taken to the table by a different waiter, and there was a flash of disappointment in Shubman's eyes. He wished to see you closer once again.

But you were asked to do something in the kitchen by the manager who thought it was probably the best for a new face against someone with a reputation as his.

"Do we have to redo our conversation?" Shahneel asked and he tore his eyes away from the door you disappeared into.

"Not all of it," he said, fingers closing around the glass of iced americano. It didn't compare to his (used to be) frozen heart but the ice was starting to melt.

"Is it love at second sight then?" Ishan asked. Truth be told, he'll be the happiest to see his best man happy and in love.

Shubman never believed when people deluded about falling in love, nevertheless at first sight.

Falling for someone, to love them, cannot be explained by words. It takes time. But at one moment, at one glance, you just don't think about anything else.

The moment he looked at you, he didn't belong to himself anymore.

"Not at second sight," Shahneel said, able to read her brother's thoughts as if they were a book on display.

It was love at first sight.

He just didn't want to believe it yesterday. That he had gotten to this point. But goddamn was it hard to deny.

Shubman thought about it. How it would feel to hold someone's hand in his own.

The feeling of wrapping his arms around them in a hug, for a head against his chest to hear his heartbeat, to press his lips in a tender kiss. How it would feel to love.

Mostly, he thought about you.

And suddenly as he stared back at his sister and his best friend, he was laying out his whole future in his mind.

He can't take it back now and he was sure that he never wanted to.

It just got stronger.

The signs of a forthcoming smile appeared in Shubman's eyes and he spoke with every single one of his being agreeing that you were his, and he was yours.

"I love her."