Kier's POV
As usual, I spent my morning at the local coffee shop. It was a routine for me; it's not like I had a job to go to, who was going to employ someone like me? A twenty-two year old with blood red hair, a lip piercing, tattoo's, and severe social anxiety. My therapist says I’m improving, I’m capable of ordering coffee now anyways; that’s an improvement from a few years ago. However, I still struggle with every other damn thing. I don't have many friends; maybe one or two. I don't want to say for definite in case they didn't actually like me and were just pretending to. There was this guy called Luke who was my friend/bodyguard in high school; I still speak to him on occasion, when I'm feeling up for it. There's also another guy called Drew; I met him in college, before I quit out of fear; things just got too much for me and I couldn't physically bring myself to get up anymore. Now I'm here; unemployed, alone and reading poetry at the back corner of the shop, trying to make myself as small as possible.
It was a tradition of mine. I’d go and see my therapist in the early morning, have an hour session with him then go into this rundown cafe and order a hot chocolate and a sandwich and sit in my usual space in the back left corner, to lose myself in Carol Ann Duffy's poetry for a few hours before returning home to my miniscule flat until the next appointment.
Nothing was out of the ordinary; my beverage was as sweet as always, the regular ham and cheese triangle shaped sandwich was still sat in front of me, and I had no new analysis' to any of the poems. However, I felt the presence of another beside me, causing my heart to beat faster and my eyes to widen as I stared down at the pages in my book.
"Hey, mind if I sit here?" A deep voice sound and my head flitted upwards to meet the eyes of a tall, dark haired male who was pointing to the seat opposite mine.
My throat swelled up, preventing me of projecting words towards the man as I shook my head, eyes boring into his form as he placed a mug of coffee on the table, and slumped into the seat. I returned to my book; however my eyes darted towards him every few stanzas. He was quite attractive – my cheeks reddening at my own thoughts – his hair was the colour of a raven, his eyes outlined with a thick trail of eyeliner; much like my own, and was wearing a thin leather jacket, not really suitable for the freezing temperatures outside, along with a smart black shirt underneath.
As I finished a poem I took the quick opportunity to glance at the man in front of me once more, however I wasn’t quite as successful at hiding it this time. The man was already looking at me and smirked as our eyes met, raising his eyebrows quickly and winking. I felt my cheeks heat up at the action and my eyes to dart back to the book in hand.
“So,” The male started, obviously in the mood for conversation. “What you reading?”
My tongue licked the surface of my lips nervously as I lowered my book to the table, placing a bookmark inside as my large eyes glanced at him. I felt my hands tremble and my stomach do flips when I realized I couldn’t get away with a simple nod or shake of my head.
“U-Umm,” I trembled, inwardly cursing my own stupidity. “J-Just P-Poems.”
The man nodded, giving me a small smile. He was probably mocking me. I raised my shaking hand to my piecing, twisting it in circles with my forefinger and thumb and I looked down at the table; fearing the conversation to turn awkward soon.
“I’m Laurence.” He informed confidently, reaching out a hand for me to shake. I simply stared at his hand with wonder; why was this guy talking to me? There were other places to sit in this café, why come near me?
With a trembling hand I took his own, shaking it timidly. “I’I-‘m Kier.”
Laurence grinned, releasing my hand after a few short moments. “Nice to meet you, Kier.”
