Unlike You

Twenty One

After a little while, the chocolate chip cookies are finished and cooling on a tray. I don't know where this sudden kindness towards other people has come from, but it's scaring me slightly. Lawrence's face is lit with a wide grin, his grey eyes twinkling. He actions are new and are making me slightly uncomfortable. It's just odd seeing him this happy.

"Why are you so happy?" I ask, washing at one of the bowls. Lawrence looks up from his cookie tray that he is washing and raises his eyebrows, the grin never sliding from his lips.

"Nothing," he shrugs, but his smile only grows wider. I stop washing and dry off my hands. I place my hands firmly on my hips and stare at Lawrence intently. He just continues to smile down at the tray he's still scrubbing, completely oblivious to my stares.

"Nothing," I repeat. "Lawrence, you don't smile like that on a daily basis. What are you thinking about?" Lawrence finally stops and dries off his now wrinkled hands. I rub my index finger and thumb together and feel that mine are as well. Lawrence turns to me, a smirk replacing his grin. He starts to step towards me, his tall figure looming over me as I step away. His grey eyes become darker and darker as he comes closer to me. I feel my back collide with a wall and I realize now that I'm trapped. 

Cliché.

I could make a run for it. No, there are to many things that could break if I potentially ran into them. Lawrence is a mere three feet from me before he's inches from my face. I slowly allow my eyes to drift up to his eyes which are still dark with what seems to be admiration, but then again, I've never seen that in anyone's face before when they look at me. Although, that makes it all the more reason that it could be.

"Do you want to know why I'm so happy, Ser?" he asks deeply. My eyes shift to his lips quickly, then back to his eyes. I nod stiffly, coaxing him to continue. "I'm happy, because there is a storm brewing outside, which is my favorite type of weather, I'm in my mother's cafe which I've been in since I can remember, and..." His voice trails of has his eyes trained on my hand. He lightly takes it in his, raising it so it's at eye level with us. He delicately plays with my fingers and laughs to himself.

"And?"

"I am trapped in here... with the love of my life," he answers in a whisper. My breath hitches in the back of my throat. The love of his life. I repeat this over and over in my head until I notice Lawrence leaning in towards me. He stops, almost teasingly, and I glare at him in a playful manner. 

"You suck," I mutter before crashing his lips to mine. The feeling sends a spark of electricity through my body, making my legs wobble. Lawrence presses into me, holding me against the wall, preventing me from falling. 

Our lips move in sync as it gets progressively more heated. A low groan rumbles through Lawrence chest and I allow myself to smile against his lips. He does the same, so he pulls away so we can see each other.

"You know," I begin, "we met in the most unfortunate way. You know that, right?"

"Your not wrong," he replies after pondering it for a moment. Lawrence takes my hand in his, smiling slightly. "Come on, people are waiting."

~*~

We serve the cookies to all of the anxious customers who have been so kind about the inconvenience. The storm has gotten worse to the point where tree branches have fallen into the streets, a wall of rain makes it impossible to see the shops on the other side of the street, and thunder booming loudly through the atmosphere along side the blinding lighting.

I love storms, yet this is entirely different than I had previously thought.

Lawrence is talking with the elderly couple who we sat near earlier, making conversation about the weather. I smile at the boy in a leather jacket, catting up an elderly couple. To say it's taboo would be an understatement.

I smile softly and watch as Lawrence explains some made up tale to the elderly folk about how he had ended up in juvie. They don't seem to mind that he's a delinquent, they actually seem very interested. Lawrence's arms flail up and down and side to side as he explains his tale of bravery. Basically, he's saying that he was being robbed. But it's a lot more complicated than that. He's saying that he was sleeping peacefully, next to me I might add, when suddenly, he heard aloud bang coming from downstairs. He jumped out of bed, grabbing the closest weapon which happened to be a knife, which is to far of a stretch for me, and he creeped downstairs. He walked quietly over to where the ruckus had came from when he saw a man in a hoodie rummaging through his shelves and such. 'Wanting to make sure I was safe', he ran over and stabbed him in the shoulder.

"Turns out," Lawrence continues, "it was my uncle. He was looking for his watch that he had left on the shelf. He called the police on me and I was taken in for assault."

"Wow," the elderly lady smiles. "Such a brave boy."

"Thank you ma'am," Lawrence nods before getting up and meeting my eyes. I raise my eyebrows at him, a smirk on my lips. He grins, not showing his teeth and walks over to me as I lean against the wall.

"Funny, I don't remember the story going like that," I tease, staring up into his grey eyes.

"Shh, they don't have to know that," he whispers playfully. Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder echoes through the tiny cafe. I squeal and run into Lawrence's arms making him laugh. I punch his stomach and continue to cower away from the loud noises coming from the outside.

"Bully," I mutter into his chest.

"I think it's cute," he replies.