I'm Not Excited [DISCONTINUED; REBOOTED]

Never Met Prince Charming

[ The Coffee Shop ]

"... So my wife and I are fighting - as usual - when she starts accusing me of not spending time with her. PFFT! Excuse me, but the fact that you're pregnant says otherwise!" Ezra said, drinking his cup of coffee.

Illyana laughed, marveling at Ezra's sense of humour. "So what happened? You two divorced?"

Ezra furrowed his brow. "Are you asking me if I'm single, bambina?" He asked, winking.

Illyana blushed, though quickly shook her head. "No! Course not! I'm just worried about the poor woman!" She said, taking a drink from her hot cup of coffee.

"Well, we ended up divorcing, yes. She and our son, Einar Ezrasson - born in Iceland for tax reasons - are living in Atlanta. Scary place, wouldn't take my devices there, nor my abuela." He nodded, as if agreeing with himself. "And you, Romanov? Any ex husbands?"

"No, never been married," she said, sitting up straight. "Been in ill advised relationships. A few flings. Nothing more. I just think I haven't met my so-called 'Prince Charming'."

Ezra nodded, turning to the windows. "See that city? New York City? Well, odds are - yes, I'm an accomplished mathematician - that your so-called 'Prince Charming' is not out there. Maybe the poor bastard is inside a building, who knows?" He shrugged.

"He's definitely not outside. He's in."

Illyana crossed her leg and pressed her lips together. "You really think so?" She asked nervously.

Ezra chuckled and nodded, turning away from the window and to Illy.

"For sure! It's all in the maths. Not me. The maths!" Ezra replied. "So, what else do you want to know about me, gracious and ever adoring fan of mine."

Oh shit, he still thinks I'm a fan.

"Well, um, I'll be honest with you. I'm not exactly a fan. I'm a um... B-blogger for the New York Times' Arts & Music Department. And to be honest... I had not heard of your band 'til today. I'm so, so, SO sorry," Illyana confessed, looking extremely embarrassed.

Ezra nodded, looking expressionless. "So, what you are saying is that you are now a fan of Vampire Weekend and you'd accept to see me again - for another interview, a proper one, that is," he said, a smile slowly forming on his lips.

"I- Uh. Well. Hmm..."

"Or do you not want your interview? Or even - GASP! See me again?" He asked, pretending to gasp dramatically. "I will go back to my wife and Einar if you reject me, I hope you know that."

Oh God, he's being adorable. I can't. He's too much, oh God. Stop being so a-fucking-dorable, you nerd.

"Alright, you win. I'll interview you and your band of blood sucking vampires because you sound unbelievably miserable when you're with your ex-wife. I- I can't allow for such inhumanity - to her, of course." Illyana smirked, proud of her dry humour.

"Offended! I'm offended!" Ezra said. Illyana giggled, covering her mouth. "Oh please, the fact that I'm here offends my schedule," she said, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Hey! You take that back and say you're having the time of your life! At least because it was I who payed for that coffee!" He pointed at Illyana's half full cup of coffee.

She slumped her shoulders and frowned. "Fine. Whatever. Hmph." She turned away, crossing her arms defensively.

Ezra bit his lip.

She's perfect.

"Has anyone ever told you how adorable you look when you're pretending to be mad at me?" He asked wittingly.

Illyana cocked a brow, slowly turning back to face Ezra. "No, because no one has A) Ever seen me with you and B) Because I'd never met you before. Hmph."

And she got my joke! Score!

"Witty response, Illyana. Well played," Ezra congratulated her.

"Heh... Thanks," Illyana replied coldly, still pretending to be mad at Ezra.

"Psst. I see you," teased Ezra, moving his foot under the table to softly kick Illyana. "And so does my foot!"

"Fine! Okay, see, I'm happy!" She smiled widely, showing teeth. "See?"

Ezra laughed softly, shaking his head. He couldn't believe his luck; they'd only met today and already he knew she was something else. Determined, funny, witty and smart - and that was just the surface for Ezra.

Illyana took her iPhone out and pressed the home key to check the time. "Holy Mar- holy cow! It's almost twelve!" She said, looking shocked.

"... Not possible. Nuh uh, I refuse to believe that. Nope," Ezra said, shaking his head.

Illyana facepalmed, getting out of their booth. "Come on! We've gotta get home!"

Ezra stopped. "We've? As in, our shared home?" He gave her a sly look.

Illyana frowned. "You nerd. Come on! Move!"

Ezra let out a frustrated sigh, getting out of the booth. "Fine!" He yelled after her.

Illyana opened the door, keeping it open for Ezra. "Come on, princess! We ain't got time!" She hurried him.

Ezra raised his hands, walking out the door. "The kids at a fat camp would be scared of you, bambina," he said jokingly.

Illyana pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. "Mhm, sure. Move it, Vamp!"

__________________________

"So... I guess this is goodbye?" Ezra asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, we planned an interview, no? So, if I were you, I'd take it as anything but a goodbye," Illyana replied. "Here, I'll write down my phone and office numbers." She grabbed her journal, tearing a piece of paper out and jotting down the numbers. "Just call me whenever you and your friends are free."

Ezra grabbed the paper, placing it in his pocket. "It'll be soon, I promise..."

Illyana half smiled, nodding. "See ya then, Ez," Illyana leaned in, extending her arms and wrapping Ezra in a hug. The frontman's toes curled as he hugged her back. He shut his eyes for a moment, desperately hoping the moment wouldn't end.

"Soon, bambina."

__________________________

Hold me in your everlasting arms...