𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐢𝐞 | t. holland

2.

2 o'clock came and went and you still hadn't reached the place you were to meet Peter. Cursing silently to yourself, you trudged through the half-foot of white powder beneath you.

As the place came into view, you could just make out a large tree with a boy standing under its canopy of snow. You couldn't decide if your footsteps got lighter, heavier, or stayed the same as you neared the spot. But you knew you felt butterflies in your stomach. 

You hadn't gone out with someone since breaking up with your boyfriend. You'd thought everything was going well—until you'd discovered the cheating. 

Peter turned and smiled when he realized you were almost to him.

"Hey," you said, slightly out of breath from the walk.

He held out his hands to catch you as you almost fell forward, slipping on the ice. 

"Woah, you alright?" He laughed a little and his breath brushed your nose gently.

Apologizing and out of breath, you straightened yourself out. 

"No trouble," he assured you. "Shall we be going then?" He offered his arm like a gentleman. 

"Shall?" You took his arm as you mimicked his strange choice of words. "What, are you British now?"

He laughed it off. "I have English relatives, I guess a little has rubbed off on me."

It was good that he'd given you his arm, because you slipped again as you reached the front of the coffee shop. "I got you," he said lightly. 

You went pink in the face, but you hoped you could pass it off as effects from the cold wind. 

After both of you had ordered your drinks, you found a table and sat opposite each other.

"So, Y/N," he said. "Sorry, I guess it was pretty forward of me to just ask you out like that. You caught me off guard I guess." He smiled a rosy cheeked plea at you and you could feel your butterflies again. 

Taking off your scarf and mittens, you replied, "Oh, it's no big deal. I haven't been out like this in forever; it's about time I got back into it. And guys who just go with instinct are the good kind."

You two flirted back and forth about it until the coffee came.

Peter insisted on paying. It was a nice refresher from the treatment you'd had from your ex. 

"Okay, so you obviously aren't from around here," you said, venturing into deeper waters. "So... who are you? I'm on a date with a stranger." A smile played on your lips before you took another sip of your warm drink.

Peter clasped his hands together and set them on the table all professional-like. 

You raised your eyebrows playfully.

"Well," he began. "As you already guessed, I'm Peter." He took a sip.

"Peter..." you made a rolling hand motion, signaling him to go on.

He just about choked on his coffee and some sort of realization seemed to hit him. His eyes widened. "Uh, Smith." He cleared his throat. "Peter Smith."

You smiled uncertainly. "Smith, okay."

"And you are?" He raised his eyebrows, completely calm now.

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Peter seemed to blush. But maybe it was just the cold draft from the door. "I like that name," he said.

The two of you talked till your coffee went cold and classes started up again. But today was your free day, so you didn't have to go.

You leaned that Peter was twenty-one—two years older than you; you learned he held a job in Hollywood on film sets; you learned that he had a dog, that his family was originally from London, but he lived here in the states now, and that he was visiting your college because he hadn't been to an American college before and wanted to see one while he was in town. He had seen you walking and had decided to try for a date with you before he left again later that week.

It sounded like he had an exciting life. You told him about yourself, about coming to college almost two years ago now, and you told him where your family was from. Peter seemed interested particularly in the fact that you were at college for design. He apparently knew a few designers in Hollywood and respected their work a lot. 

By the time your date ended, you had gone out into the snow again and were walking around campus, talking and you pointing out college-based landmarks to him. He asked for your phone number so he could contact you again and "maybe do this again before I leave on Friday."

So with a smile on both your faces, he pulled you into a hug at your dorm entrance. "Thanks for taking your day off with me." He smiled a cheeky grin.

"Text me," you said, smiling, as you walked inside and made you way to the stairs.