What do you associate love with?
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"So, Harry, you said you live a few meters away from here.." I began, bringing both of my hands to my lap. Harry and I had been talking about whatever for at least half an hour. I believe it was exactly nine thirty in the evening when I decided to ask him about this cottage.
"Correct." He nodded, taking the last sip of his 4th coffee.
"What do you exactly do here?" I asked him, hoping he wouldn't find my question a bit personal. Harry frowned a bit for some reasons unknown to me, then quickly recovered.
"Well, I usually invite people for coffee to murder them later." He said, shrugging his shoulders.
I laughed it off, "Should I feel concerned?"
"Very. You're just finishing the 5th cup of coffee." He said and I felt a bit embarrassed. "I'm serious though. You know, about the murder thing."
"I know you are, it's fine." I said, chewing on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from smiling.
"So... I guess your parents will worry about you." He said. He basically just ignored my question so I guessed it was private information. I just met him thirty minutes ago, why would he tell me anything? But fair to say, I started thinking whether he was seriously planning a murder when he politely kicked me out of the house.
"What, are you going to hide some dead bodies in here?" I asked him, trying to look serious.
"Maybe," He shrugged. He did that a lot. "You may want to join your parents before you become the first dead body I have to hide." He added. This time, his words sounded a bit rude to me but I ignored it. It was obvious he did not want me here.
"All right, I'll get going." I said, standing up. He stood up as well and walked me to the door, hands in his pockets. "I can always call the police on you, you know." I added. I was afraid I was being annoying. I had to leave. He did not want me there.
"I can call the police on you as well, for trespassing." He said with a smile that soothed my worry a bit.
With a nod, I walked out the door and when I almost reached the sand, I turned around to see Harry still staring at me. I waved my hands to get his attention but he did not move. I assumed he was staring at something else behind me and kept walking thinking about how awkward this was but mainly about whether or not I was going to see Harry again.
...
I kicked my shoes off before entering the house. Sand was still tickling my fingers but I ignored it and ran towards my mother who was sitting on the sofa in the living room, with a ball of popcorn watching what appeared to be an 80s movie called Sixteen Candles. I was afraid her date was still there at the house but when I noticed that she had completely taken off her make up, I realised she was lonely.
My thoughts were confirmed when I darted my eyes to the dinner table to see the food untouched and the candles blown out.
"Mom," I started as I sat down next to her and grabbed some popcorn. "I have a question."
She put her thumb and index on her forehead and looked down, "Please don't ask me about the da–"
"What are the odds of seeing a stranger another time?" I interrupted her. It wasn't like Harry caught my eye or anything, actually I was pretty sure I was never going to see him again but I just needed to know if those fairy tales my dad used to tell me were true.
My dad always told me stories about God's unique plans. He told me stories about His magical way of bringing two people together. That's when I learnt that most of the times when I think that person is the one, the reality turns out, he isn't. Sometimes you meet strangers more than once, but it turns out that it's just a casual coincidence.
