Woso imagines

Alexia (coffee and cleats) 1

It was on a regular Friday morning when you see her for the first time, and she was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman you'd ever laid eyes on. She was dressed in what you could only guess was a football training kit, sat confidently at one of the tables in the far corner with her toned, tanned legs you couldn't take your eyes off on full display.

Her hair was blonde; like sunlight spun into silk, pulled back into a high ponytail with a headband to keep the flyaways out of her face. You couldn't see her face fully from your place behind the counter, but her side profile was perfectly symmetrical, jawline sharp and seemingly chiselled from the gods above themselves.

Her hands were playing with an empty sugar packet as she nods along to whatever her friend was saying, and you can't help but watch the way her long, slender fingers move alongside the thin paper, folding it as small as she could before undoing it and starting again.

It was an action so hypnotic you can't help but stare. What else could she do with those fingers?

You don't expect her head to suddenly turn and stare directly at you, catching you right in the act. You stand there like a deer caught in headlights, your hands frozen, clutching an empty plastic cup so tightly it splits down the front.

The first thing you notice were her eyes. They were brown, like the colour of mahogany wood, both comforting and steady. Then her lips. Soft. Both inviting and tempting, though pressed into a thin clearly giving away her dislike towards the situation.

She doesn't do anything; like get up and scold you for staring and her general facial expression gives absolutely nothing away. The longer she stares, however, the more her features soften, and you're unsure on whether that's because she feels sorry for you, or she finds you endearing.

You decide it would be best not to ask to save your already fragile ego.

Suddenly, another pair of eyes meet your own, her friends, and her face gives everything away. She looks between the both of you before her eyebrows raise, and her lips quirk up into a knowing smile as she slaps the beautiful girls arm effectively ripping her attention away from you.

They start talking between themselves in a language you didn't quite understand, the friend looking smug whilst the beautiful girl looked like she'd rather be anywhere else, and you force yourself to look away from them and busy yourself with starting to clean up.

The last thing you want was to get caught staring again. You were already humiliated enough and adding to that honestly brings you one step closer to throwing yourself out of the nearest window.

Loosening the death grip you had on the cloth still in to hands, you continue with the task of wiping down the counters. There were granules of sugar, dried brown marks from spilled coffee, fingerprints from the day's customers. All of it was gone in one wipe over. The coffee machine was cleaned a little while ago, sparkling slightly as the sun shining in through the windows opposite hits it in the perfect way. All that was left to do now was close up, and you couldn't do that with people still in the building.

Not knowing what else to do, you once again start wiping counters despite the fact they were already very much clean in a futile effort at killing a little time.

Someone clearing their throat abruptly startles you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see the friend of the woman you were horrendously crushing on. She was leaning against the counter, tanned tattooed arms crossed over one another as she stares at you with a small smirk on her face.

You swallow heavily as you tuck a loose strand of hair that had fallen from your braid behind your ear.

"Hola." She greets, and though you're terrible at Spanish, you do understand what she had said and return the greeting, your voice just as reluctant as it was cautious.