a wonderful foreigner // mélovin.

one

It's a calm and silent autumn day, in the centre of London. What better way to spend your time, but by drinking a big mug of coffee; not too bitter nor too sweet, whilst reading your current favourite book at the coffee shop. As you went through the pages of your read, whilst fumbling with a graphic pen in your left hand which you by the way had for too damn long, you can't help but to occasionally glance around the shop. People in the middle of their busy days, getting their daily dose of caffeine; a nice elder lady with her grandchildren standing next to a small fridge near the coffee counter trying to decide which muffin should they buy. But one person, simply too handsome not to look at.

A black haired man, probably in his early twenties, stood near the entrance with a plastic cup of warm coffee in his hand. Like he was waiting for someone, but for some reason you were hoping that that wasn't the case. He had his hair neatly lifted up and groomed, he wasn't smiling but his cheekbones could tell stories of how adorable you saw this man. The slim, so soft looking fingers, wrapped around the cup had two or three rings on them. Your bliss got disturbed once he looked back; perhaps you were staring for too long. Not so long after your eyes met, he exits the coffee shop.

It didn't take a long time for you to encounter the young man again. That day wasn't so different. Except the London weather likes to toy a lot so it was so warm, almost too warm for September, like it was spring. You were just about to finish your book, with your bottom carefully snuggled in the couch in the coffee house. As you were reading the last two sentences, God like the waiter knew, he disturbed your slumber "Miss, I apologise if I am a bother, but this gentleman has decided to treat you." He said and placed a small blue plate with a chocolate chip muffin on it. "What gentleman?" you ask. The waiter points at a table not so far away from yours. The handsome man you saw yesterday was sitting there with a group of friends. You had no clue how to behave in this situation; do you thank him or send something back? You just continued to sit there silently, for some reason not even bothering to finish your book; you know how it ends. Whilst nervously nibbling on your lower lip you turn around to look at the man, but he was gone.

The next morning, the weather had decided to toy even more than he did yesterday. The rain was pouring whilst you were waiting for the tram. You had no clue the weather would be like this so you were nearly soaking. You could take few turns, just down the street to take the tube but there was no use anymore. With your fingers you rubbed your face, trying to think of a solution, but there was none. You were about to end up drenched in rain, since the bus is not supposed to arrive in another 15 minutes. That was until you noticed a black umbrella above your shivering body. It was him. The station is near the coffee shop, perhaps that's how he saw you. He didn't spoke, and neither did you. You two were just looking at each other. There was something different about him today and you noticed he had a very interesting contact lens in his right eye. It looked way too real, terrifying but also sort of attractive. You mumble a soft thank you but he doesn't say anything. So you repeat it again in case he hadn't heard you say it. He just nods and says okay.

The only reason you're seeing this wonderful human for three days now is that the universe is telling you to do something. But you still had no clue how to behave. Not that it was awkward, it was good. You've never met someone, that you could just spend time staying silent; the silence was so comfortable and intriguing. You felt so excited yet so scared, your heart was racing and your hands were shaking. But at this point you had no idea was it the cold or him. So you offer your hand in a greeting manner, saying your name and looking directly into his tempting beautiful eyes. He carefully holds your hands and shakes it, his fingers almost too soft to be from a man. "Konstantin" he says, flashing a small smile in your way.

The next day you found yourself in a desire to walk along the main street. You're not usually a morning person but this felt right. You brought your scrap book with you and it was time to write some poetry. You sat on the round corner of the beautiful fountain. Since it was really early the only sounds beside the water and the birds were children passing through, making their way to school. You weren't the one to like children or to desire on having one on your own but there was something about the sound of that innocent laughter.

After a few minutes of just sitting with your coffee, and scrabbling a few words that your thought was useless poetry, you noticed a presence near you. It was him, it was Konstantin. He was looking at you in such a dear way; he even smiled for a second. With your hand you wave a little hello and smile in return. His presence was so warm and comforting. You closed your scrap book and placed it aside, not even bothering to think it might get wet from the fountain water. You were about to ask something but you felt his delicate fingers already brushing yours on the warm concrete fountain wall beneath you two. He slid his fingers in between each of yours, somehow managing to lace them. You just looked at him in a tad shy manner. Trying your best not to smile like an idiot.

"I am happy to see you again"

"How did you know I was here?"

You wanted to ask so much but also desired not to nag. You shouldn't blame him, he doesn't speak English well. Instead of answering he took a black pen from your other hand, and lifted the one he was holding. Carefully he started drawing a small black rose in the right bottom corner of your palm. His focus and the way he pouted his upper lip a little was so adorable. Bellow the rose he started writing a series of numbers; he was giving you his number, phone number. These made you smile a bit more, because it made you realise you're both looking for the same.

You decide to follow his lead and careful unravel his palm. At times you feel like you can't doodle anything ever, but you did your best. You draw a small heart and a cheeky sun next to it, the kind from child's imagination with eyes and rays around it. And bellow you've written your phone number, digit by digit. I know he was the one that gave you his number first, but you were going to expect him to call you.

Two days had passed since you last saw Konstantin. It was nerve wrecking. Your mind was filled with thoughts. There was no reason for him to be uninterested; unless he was expecting you to call first. But everything was to be resolved tonight. Your phone had started to ring, waking you up from a small nap you thought was a good idea. Without any awareness of who it was you pick up.

"Konstantin here um"

Shit it's him "Hello there, you good?"

"I'm good, you good?" you giggled at his adorable accent, both doing your best to understand what you're saying. He invited you to a wine tasting gathering tonight. Of course you said yes but totally forgotten about to agony of trying to dress up real nice for such an event in a short time.

But thankfully you had a lovely black dress to your knee, with a little lace around your waist and it sleeves. After a shower, shave and some light make up; you got into the pretty dress and made your way to the art gallery. You're not usually a person to go to such events but he sure does seem like a person that might enjoy this. And why not, it might be an exciting experience.

The art gallery was beautiful, you were offered some black wine, right away, the moment you came in. The cheese was also offered but God knows how this night might and you also might not need it. Just the moment you began to wonder why is Konstantin late. But soon enough he appeared at the front door, dashing. He was wearing black pants, not too tight or too wide. A white shirt with that suited his torso so well and, and a black a bit longer jacket. He looked so good. You couldn't help but have a few dirty thoughts around in your mind. He grabbed a glass of wine himself, carrying it so delicately as he made his way towards you.

The works displayed at the gallery were simply amazing. You two weren't exchanging a lot of words, per usual, but it was enjoyable. Sometimes you weren't even looking at art, just at each other. And he smelled so damn good. How could he be so perfect? Around ten o'clock you both figured it would be a good time to leave, but you were so desperate for this night to continue. Both of you exited the gallery and just stood there near the entrance, just taking in the wonderful evening breeze. He looked at you with that wonderful gaze, the way he usually does. You just smiled and blushed, trying to figure out what to do and relaxing both at the same time.

Konstantin placed his hand on your cheek, just looking at you for a few seconds then pressed his lips against yours. It was even better than you imagined in your thoughts late at night. You kissed him back, allowing him to mould your lips together with his. He gently caressed your cheek, continuing the kiss which probably lasted for two minutes but felt like hours. Like the time has stopped and it was just you two there.