Maroon |H.S|

III

•Emily•

I lift my head, slowly and carefully hoping I wouldn't start crying again. It was one of the longest nights I have ever had since I was 12, I had a very big paper due the next day and I stayed up all night trying to finishing it. Of course I got a solid B+ on it, but I know for a fact that my mother was not impressed. I really could talk to my mother but of course all I would hear is how she she was right all these years about Cathy, a nickname that has been supplied to her after our our first year. At this very moment the only thing that was in my mind was Ross on the first episode of Friends and how I wish I had a Phoebe to cleanse my aura for me. Well for me to slap her hand away. Or a Rachel to enchant me for life, with her bewitching good looks to help me forget Carol. Well, Cathy in my case, but that's beside the point.

    I figured a few days inside was enough, enough without explaining anything to anybody. I felt if I talked I would just turn into the blubbery mess It was only a few hours ago. I figured if I spent a few days crying and and make out with people in hopes to kiss away everything. But then again I could be a bit of an adult about this and move on with my life and not let her get to me. I mean, don't get me wrong I'd love to do the first option over and over again. And over and over and over. As one can see she's sure as hell moved on with hers.

I slip on a pair of sweat pants and a comfy tee-shirt, which was actually maroon, with a pair of ratty old toms that have the comfort of cloud 9. Grabbing my keys and wallet, obviously not forgetting my book and headphones and hoping to god my phone is charged. Walking to my car felt wrong, that's where it happened first (if you know what I mean) and I just don't want to remember that. Anyways the place was only a few blocks away I like walking there anyways.

From afar you would think it's busy because of the lack of parking, then again parking in the city sucks anyways, but once I'm closer I'd see that it's just from the retails a around. Peeking inside the very familiar café I see a decently good looking young lady who looks very familiar, it's weird but if tea and a biscuit. A different pastry every time I go there, yet I only have a taste for one type of tea.

"Hello, what can I get for you?" A voice that never changes, except when his accent decides to change. I look into his emerald coloured eyes and accidentally burp in his face, I apologize so much while laughing.

"It's alright, I guess you haven't had any food for a while, but it was literally the most hilarious thing all day, a biscuit on me. Do you want to same tea as last time?" His accent didn't go away at all even if it wasn't even there to begin with it was stronger than last time. Like a lot, it's kind if scary.

    "Yeah, how'd you know? Wait! Are psychic or something! That would be awesome." Of course my imagination gets ahead of me, that's how I take the attention off of, well, me in general. Then again getting people to laugh at me being an idiot wouldn't really help.

"Yes! I can read minds, see the future, and make a wicked camomile latte." I mentally thank him for not just straight laughing at me, then calling me an idiot like literally everyone else, it was refreshing.

   "Alrighty then, you should actually whip me up some of that camomile latte, if it's as good as you claim. That biscuit though, sounds lovely." We both stopped laughing but we also started chuckling, very likely because we're most defiantly dorks. Well, chuckling, giggling, and maybe a bit of laughing as well but honestly that's not the point. I feel like this guy could become one of my best friends, not right at this very moment but in the future.

   "Of course there love. You brought your book right?" His accent never failing to enchant me. Then again, I do live in London so everyone's accent enchants me.

   "I never leave home without it. It's-"

    "Harry! What have I told you about talk-hello. I don't believe we've met, I'm Darla, but you can call me Darling." I could sworn she winked. But you know, a good flirt doesn't do any harm.

    "Why hello Darling, I'm Emily, but you can call me-dammit. Never mind, but might I say you are very pretty. What's a pretty girl like you slaving away here?" I winked right back at her. Only the first time she winked she wasn't winking.

    "No, my nicknames darling. A lot of people call me by that, not that I don't mind you flirting. It's nice, your good at it." She fully winked at me this time as I smirk at her, I sit alone at a table for two, and I just want to be served. Well so I can fully get into my book without any interruptions.

"Yo, here you go. Enjoy." There was a small note in the handle of the cup that said 'meet me at 6 at that table' I look up to see if I can tell who sent it. Well I guess it was obvious with the sloppy handwriting. Slightly laughing at his handwriting, I put the note in my pocket and plug my headphones and continue reading my book, only stopping for tea but honestly I was still somehow reading. Next thing I knew it was 6 and Harry had been sitting there.

"You have a scowl when you read, did you know that?" he must have seen my reading/concentrate face I've had.

"I got it from my mom, it's my concentration face." I kind of started laughing but in such an awkward way, I swear I served my time as an awkward human being what is this?!

****

Okay I know it's kind of short but it needed to be updated soooo here you go.