Sweet Creature * {h.s | AU}

ONE.

You would have say that this is a perfectly normal Tuesday – where people go to work and do their shits – except that this is not a normal Tuesday, today is Valentine's Day. The day where all the singles silently hoped that the 24 hours would slip by as fast as you can say 'love'.

You silently hoped, too, that just maybe, you wouldn't be single anymore after so many dry years that you've wasted on nothing but works and foods, not even one second on romance. And just maybe, tonight is the night you could say goodbye to all those crappy nights you spent eating chips while switching between channels on the TV.

Marie's was the best place to which you want a perfect date but not an expensive one, sort of. You agreed to go on a blind date your friend had set you up with but it seems like you've already been blinded by the PDA-ing of other couples before you even started the date.

"Jesus, get a room!" Someone yelled from across the room. How many people has the nerve to make out in a public place where people serve foods? Well, there's two already, and neither one of them was you.

You stir the tea in front of you, even though it only contains a few sip before the cup is empty. And after an eternity of waiting, it is official to say, that you have been stood up on Valentine's. (That's something you don't get to brag about every day.) You sighed and stared aimlessly at the void across you, where your "date" should've been sitting at and laughing his heart out with you. You raised your hand for the bill so you could go home and stuff some more chips to muffle your sadness. No one came. No one came to give you the bill. Maybe they didn't want to be the one to cut your sad tension and ask about your date with the air. Or maybe you're just too sad for them to deal with on a Valentine's Day.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but notice your desperate screams for help." The voice was deep and smooth, like the creams smear on top of a cake, so smooth. The accent was heavier on all the vowels, British.

You lift your head up and a beautiful face came into your sight. Though you weren't sure that beautiful are for men but that was what best describe this charm in front of you. This man was wearing a black sheer button down shirt, which was barely covering his chest with only two of the buttons in the middle fastened, and black jeans. Curly short hair that bounces like the ones you see in shampoo commercials. His arm were covered in tattoos, a mermaid, an anchor, a lock and a key. His shoulders were really broad too, like he has been working out lately. He was also extremely tall, from your position, the goddamn legs that were too long for any human being. Maybe he's not a mortal.

"I did not scream." You looked away when he caught you staring at him like a prey.

"Well then we must be telepathic," he chuckled and sat down across you. Where your blind date should be sitting at.

"More like tele-pathetic." You finally looked at him, which didn't help much because you were staring at him and observing every single minor detail on his face again.

"No offense, Miss, but I'm not the one who's sitting all alone in a booth on Valentine's Day," he smiled, and for the first time you notice his dimples. It was so deep that you find yourself resisting the urge to poke it.

"You know, just because you said 'no offense' doesn't mean it's not offensive," you said, pulling your brows into a frown.

He looked down at his hands which are now locked together and clutched tightly on the table. "I'm sorry, have I offended you?" He looked up and smiled again. Gosh, those dimples.

"No," you said, "but I am mad that you are sitting on my boyfriend's lap and intruding our date."

He looked around him frantically, "oh gosh, I'm squashing him, aren't I?"