Halfway In Love (#Wattys2016)

Epilogue

<Update : 07/07/17>

A/N : Hi there people! How are you guys doing? Amazetastic I hope :D

So, here's the epilogue, quite a short one, but I do hope you like it :) 

If you like what you read, please vote, comment and share !!!

Happy Reading ! :D

*****

The barista cleared his throat rather loudly, giving her an impatient look. She looked up from the magazine she was so engrossed in reading, she hadn't realized she was at the counter already. The man behind her tapped his foot incessantly. She peeked up, her eyes disoriented, the lower half of her face hidden.

"Hot chocolate, please." She said.

"Your name?" He asked gruffly.

"Melanie." She smiled, lowering her magazine as she reached into her bag for money. It was the barista's turn to stand in trance, as he looked a bit dazed by her presence that seemed to suddenly glow once she smiled.

"There you are." She smiled again, paying and turning to go find a seat. The cafe was surprisingly full this evening. She once again buried her head in the zine she had been reading for the last two days.

Not that the magazine was good, it was like any other, but there was one particular article that had seemed to snatch her attention. She read it, again and again, riveted, lost to the world.

"May I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

Her breath caught at the Harry Potter reference and she looked up to find a devilishly handsome man stand there with a coffee in one hand, a laptop bag hung across his shoulder, smiling softly, gently, as if it came as easily as breathing to him. He looked dapper in that sharp tux and yet managed to look comfortable and casual. He stood with an air of authority yet simplicity and humility. She didn't care for it though and shrugging her shoulders and went back to the article.

Taking it as a yes, he sat across her, the sight of a beautiful face hidden behind a book tugged painfully at his heart but he pushed it down as he got down to work on a few important documents. But as he did, he couldn't help his gaze as they wandered over to the girl across. She sat leaning against the window, reading from the zine she had folded backwards. It itched to his slightly clean freak side but he let it go.

His eyes went to the ones across, gleaming, like molten honey, as they devoured the words, the straight of her nose, the slight smile that made those lips quirk up at the sides, his eyes followed the curve of her neck adorned by a thin necklace with a small diamond pendant resting gently between her collarbones. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, a stray strand tickling her cheek, which she often pushed behind her ear.

None said anything as they drank their drinks, she unsuspecting of the stolen glances he threw at her. Try as much, he couldn't help noticing the changes of expression that took place as she read whatever she was, giving him yet another flash of memory he had tried so hard to keep locked within.

It was some time before she closed her magazine, pushed it in her side bag, and got up to leave. Her eyes met his with uncertainty, debating whether to say something or not. His green-blue eyes did something to her she didn't want to think about. Deciding against making acquaintanceship, she smiled and walked away, passing him as she went to the door.

He tried describing for how she walked because you couldn't say it was poised and slaying, or that it was clumsy. She didn't walk straight like a stiff rod up her back or hunched and slouching.

She just walked. Simply.

And yet, he watched, struck by the normalcy of everything that was her.

Something nagged at the back of his mind as she walked out by the glass beside him out in the footlane. He couldn't place his finger on what it was but he could feel it was something of importance. Something he had been waiting since forever.

Then something clicked.

Hastily putting down his coffee mug on the table, he dashed after her.

"Hey.. Hey there!" He called out and she stopped, turning with confounded expression.

"Hi!" He smiled, not at all winded from the short run. After all, hours in the gym had their benefits. "I'm Dave Maxwell."

She looked uncertainly at his outstretched hand but gave in finally. "Hi. How can I help you?"

"Can I have your magazine?"

"I'm sorry?" She was startled. This was some really weird guy she thought. No matter the striking looks, but something's definitely not right in the top level of his head.

"For a second." Dave explained. "That article you were reading. Something in it caught my eye. Can I see it? Please?"

"Have fun." She said, handing it over quickly and getting out of there as soon as she could. Dave didn't mind though. All he cared for was to look for what he thought he had seen. He ruffled through the pages and finally, it was there.

He blinked twice.

He shook his head, messing up his hair.

He pinched himself to check if this wasn't a dream. 

When I finally felt alive again - An evening in Paris.

- By Stephanie Jones.

His heart squeezed with joy and he felt ready to burst.

He had found her again.