OtherWorldly

2

Aaliyah's POV
"I want to learn how to fight," I said to the strikingly handsome boy that entered the restaurant where I was eating. I don't know why I told him that. He was a stranger with a weird forced accent.

"Oh." He said quietly.

Although he sounded calm, his face was one of obvious confusion. I wasn't surprised. Being the 5'2, underweight shrimp I was, I wouldn't expect someone the looks of me to be fighting either. I scanned the boy carefully. Chiseled jawline, muscular arms, nice hands... My eyes landed a little lower than they probably should have been. Apparently, there's nothing shrimpy down there...

The look on the boy's face went from one of confusion to one of utter shock.

"What did you just say?"

"Did I say that out loud?" I asked like a moron, obviously knowing the answer. He laughed. "Wanna be fighter, and a freak... Yet she sits here and eats her- what is that? Black bean? Her black bean burger so quietly. Interesting."

"I'm not a fre-" I began.

"Yea, yea. Its okay. Not the first time someone has lost their cool over me, not the last."

Who the hell does he think he is?

"Trent," he said plainly. "And you are? Miss first-name, Think-alot, last name, Think-aloud, I'd assume."

"I'm sorry, I should really g-"

"No, stay," He stopped me.

I paused, looked once more into his eyes and melted.
"I- okay" I said sheepishly.

"So what's your name?" He asked.

"Its- uh- Mirabelle," I stuttered.

"Come on. Stop bullshitting, just tell me."

"Okay, fine. It's actually-"

"Aaliyah! AALIYAHHH!!"

"Oh, no," I muttered softly. My uncle was calling me. I turned to Trent. "I- I'm sorry, I have to go." I'll see you okay?"

I then sprinted home to see what my uncle wanted.