Meeting Him in a Coffee Shop ✓

Porridge, cause that's what we eat here in England

"So, is Arches Cafe any good?" I ask, letting his arm go so that I could take a better look at his face as I talk to him.

"It's actually really good. My mates and I come here for breakfast often. I know I said I would get you a coffee, but would you possibly also like to have lunch with me as well?" His face shows vulnerability as he asks, ready for rejection but seemingly holding on to a bit of hope.

How much would one lunch hurt I ask myself?

"I would love to!" I smile and excitedly tell him.

"Well then, shall we?" He extends his arm again and this time I don't hesitate, wrapping both my arms around his arm this time. Not only have the butterflies grown this time, but it seems that the sparks have decided to turn into electric shocks. I still choose to ignore them and continue to walk alongside him to the cafe.

Once inside the cafe, I see of all the beautiful artwork hanging on every inch, or rather centimeter, of the walls. I take note of the intricate brush strokes and the colors that seem to blend together beautifully with the wall behind it but also the other paintings next to it.

"Do you like art?" he asks, gently placing his hand on the small of my back.

Even though it is only one hand that is touching you, I feel the warmth passing all through my body through the jacket.

"Yeah," I breathe out, unable to articulate anything else.

His blue eyes show confusion at the sudden shift from the constant flow of conversation to one-worded answers.

I send him a small smile, hoping to appease him and calm the stampede in my stomach that doesn't seem to ever stop. "So, what's the best thing on the menu?"

As I step towards the counter looking up at the menu his hand falls off my back, but I try to ignore it.

"Well, the Brunch Platter is a crowd favorite," the man behind the counter says.

I wasn't expecting him to answer the question, but am glad that he was able to interject and ease the awkwardness that was slowly growing between us. I look back to where he was standing and raise my eyebrows, "Well, what do you recommend?"

He takes this as his cue to join you in front of the teller. "Yeah, I normally go for the Brunch Platter when I'm here as well. And if I'm feeling healthy I also try to get a bowl of fruit."

"Sounds good," I turn away from him to look back at the teller, "Yeah, I'll have a Brunch Platter, a bowl of fruit, and a bowl of oatmeal. Oh, and an Earl Grey Tea."

I'll have the same thing, except instead of oatmeal," he turns to look at me, "Porridge, cause that's what we eat here in England."

I roll my eyes at his comment, but happy because we have returned to our playful banter.

The tell asks for his drink order, "A black coffee please." He takes his wallet out to pay.

I grab his arm, trying to stop him. "Wait, let me get my wallet."

"Absolutely not!" he wrestles his arm free and hands his card over, "I said I would treat you to lunch, so I'm paying!"

I roll my eyes again at his childish behavior. "Fine thank you," I send him a shy smile.
"How 'bout this, you pay for the next time we eat out?"

"Hold on now, this date isn't even over and you're already planning the next one? Cocky much, are we?"

He laughs, "What can I say, I'm pretty amazing! And this date is going to be the best one you've ever been on!"

My eyes widen when I realize what we had both just said.

I hurry to fix the problem, "Wait, this isn't like an actual date. Just like two friends, hanging out, with mutual interest. Nothing else." I pause, walking towards the table so that I don't have to look him in the eye when I have to say the next part, "Besides, I'm leaving tomorrow. It would be pointless to start something that can't be continued."

He gingerly takes the seat in front of me. "Oh," his voice comes out quietly as if saying it any louder might cause me to leave earlier.

"Yeah," I'm unsure of what else to say.

Thankfully our food comes to break the awkward silence. But even as we start eating, it remains mostly quiet except for the occasional remarks of the tastiness of the food.