Means to an end

And so it goes

I went into the coffee shop with a clear plan in my mind - find a man who was sitting alone and talk to him.

Easy enough in theory, but I've kind of forgotten about my social anxiety, so when I stood in the middle of the room, I looked very out of place, like a little child who's just lost their parents in a supermarket.

Well, nobody said this is going to be easy.

I sighed, searching for a half-empty table, a large cup of black coffee in my hands.

Maybe it would've been best if I'd gone with Tinder or something, but I convinced myself that I had to be able to talk to strangers at all first, preferably men, before I would actually start trying to flirt with anyone.

Well, it wasn't my idea, actually. Cola'd suggested that as the best approach, and I was just being a good, dutiful student.

I sipped my coffee, attempting to be casual about this whole thing, still discreetly looking around.

"Hey, lady, wanna sit with me?" A tall (not as tall as Nicolas), muscular (differently from well-built Nicolas), smiling (way more creepily than Nicolas) man offered, patting his table, like I was a puppy who needed guidance.

It all instantly felt like this was a huge mistake, I was not cut out for this.

I faked a small smile, politely stepping closer, my heart pounding fast, because I was too nice to be able to say no, even if the guy's gaze made me feel incredibly uncomfortable.

Then a familiar shape suddenly appeared in front of me, blocking my path.

"Hi, sorry you had to wait." Cola announced loudly, so the man would hear. "Let's go." He sent me a beautiful - if a little stiff - grin, and took my hand, gently leading me out of the café. "I'm sorry, but what the hell was that, Josie?" He demanded, visibly frustrated, as soon as we stepped out of the place. I wasn't sure what to say, since he was still holding my palm, our fingers intertwined, warmth radiating from them.

"What?" I asked, berating myself mentally for focusing on the wrong things. Not the time to worship him, brain.

"That was like the most creepy looking dude you could've picked in the twenty-mile radius, and you were happily walking up to him, like you hadn't noticed it. What the hell?"

"He invited me to his table, what was I supposed to do?" I frowned, attempting to defend myself. "You've told me to try interacting with strangers."

"Strangers, yes, but not the ones looking at you like you're a snack they'd like to devour." He exhaled sharply, crushing my hand in his. His golden-brown eyes closed for a few seconds, as he calmed himself down.

I've never actually seen him that worked up about something I did. It was strange. A bit pleasant maybe, because he clearly worried, and that showed he cared.

I squeezed his fingers experimentally, not to pry mine free, rather to call his senses back to Earth. He immediately fixed his attention on me.

"Next time that happens, ignore the dude completely, okay? Walk away or pretend you know someone who appears to be more friendly. A woman." He instructed, waiting for me to nod in understanding. I did. "You're too kind-hearted, J. Just because someone starts a conversation with you, doesn't mean you have to participate in it. Don't be afraid to say no."

"Yeah, I got it." I mumbled with my sight on the pavement, ashamed for knowingly going against my instincts, only to not be rude.

He picked up my chin with his free hand, making sure I looked him in the eye as he leaned closer. Almost too close for my lovestruck mind to bear. I could see the barely visible scar above his left brow, which he'd got when he'd fallen off his bike at twelve years old. My breath quickened, and my cheeks flushed.