Crash Landing [✓]

13

Chapter Thirteen | WILL YOU GIVE HIM A KISS FROM ME?

The Coffee Shop in the city was busy as per usual. The baristas were speedily pouring cups of black coffee, and a variety of hot beverages. Customers were grabbing their orders and leaving, some were sticking around to munch on baked goods and sitting with their friends and family, chatting about the little things in life that made them happy.

I sat listening to the warm chatter, soaking in the sound of coffee machines and batches of cookies being laid out at the front, perched on a high stool, facing the tall, glass windows which revealed the world outside of the building.

For a moment I stared and digested my surroundings, the different smells and sceneries tickling my senses. It felt good to be here in good nature. I felt positive even, as I sighed and admired what was outside the window.

Only a few weeks ago, the weather was hot and the streets along the vast avenue were a rich, summer green, with the rustle of the leaves only detectable once the midday traffic had ground to a halt. The streets were already coloured with flaming red and gold, and the trees had yet to abandon their tall branches in the gusts that pierced my jacket's fabric.

I loved denim, even on cold days as such. Cute jackets and sun dresses, I'd never get sick of. Something about this outfit held sentimental value, since only less than a few months ago Milo had taken me to the restaurant before we left for Ohio, and I had worn the very same attire.

Speaking of him, Milo himself, had texted me last night. He wanted to see me. He said it was important.

Part of me was overjoyed, a huge impartial part in fact, which tricked me into wearing the outfit I hoped would manipulate our best memories together. While the other part of me, the logical, rationalist part simply felt angered because it seemed more plausible that he probably just wanted to talk to someone after losing Zachari. Yet the texts, weren't clear enough to me.

He wanted to meet for coffee. I didn't even know Milo was a coffee person. Nevertheless I was so relieved he'd finally snapped out of whatever he was experiencing within himself, to meet with me.

It was 12 pm. He should have been here by now, I thought anxiously, losing all patience.

The sound of the shop door opening, snapped me out of my overwhelming erratic thoughts. I could feel his tall figure approaching me. I assumed he was scanning his eyes around the vicinity, until he found me.

I smiled before I could stop myself, slipping off the stool to push a styrofoam type of cup into his nimble fingers, hoping he too held the same shining gleam of excitement in his eyes, which were covered by the Yankees snapback he handsomely wore.

"Milo, I'm really glad you reached out to me last night. I knew you'd come to your senses," I desperately told him, my plan to stay quiet and emotionless before him, flying out of the window, "Milo?"