𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍 ✔

❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 ❞

i suppose a little bit
of company 
wouldn't hurt,
would it?

  THE SMELL OF RAMEN broth and herbs are the first to greet me as soon as I slide the door open. It wafts strongly around the quaint shop and tingles my nerves to ease. I take a deep breath to ingest the homely aroma of it all - the floury scent of the raw noodles acquainted with the damp  steam coming from the line of casseroles filled with boiling water. My nostrils are pleased at the all-too-familiar fragrance of the dish. I was so immersed in enjoying the pleasure it gave my senses I didn't notice that I was still outside and that somebody was looking at me.

"Hello," greeted a man from behind the counter. "Aren't you coming in? It's raining like bullets outside."

I flinch a little, realizing that I was standing outside like an idiot. "Oh, right, right. Thanks," I mumble under my breath. I closed the umbrella and gave it a good shake outside to get rid of the excess rainwater from earlier. "Where do I put this thing?"

"Just leave it by the doorway, it'll be fine." He replied. 

I walk over to an empty seat next to the wall stiffly, feeling awkward because I noticed that someone had been staring at me the whole time. It wasn't the man behind the counter, but a customer. I made a quick glance over just to ease the curiosity I had in my mind and ended up looking at another man/woman. Guy/Lady, I mean. Calling him/her a man/woman makes him/her sound old, which he/she wasn't. He/She was fairly young, and if I were to guess, he/she was around my age.

The man behind the counter turned his gaze back to me and I flinch. A bright smile amidst sad weather never fails to take me by surprise.

"Hello love," he chirped. There was a slight Irish lilt in his voice that I didn't hear earlier. "Want anything?"

"Uh," I looked down at the wooden counter and searched for a menu, but there wasn't any. "Water, I guess?" I shrugged, "there's no menu or anything."

The shopkeeper quickly slid a worn out, laminated piece of paper and chuckled to himself as he went back to tending one of the many casseroles. "Old man's forgot, darling," he looks at me from the corner of his wrinkly eye, "I thought I'll never have a new customer step foot in this shabby ramen place."

I leaned closer to the wooden counter, crossing both my arms as I rested it comfortably. The other customer was probably staring at me still, so I tried my best to focus my attention on the idle conversation. It was better than having to feel his/her eyes on me the whole time. 

"Is it because you open during the rainy season?" I guessed. "I mean, I found this place by accident awhile ago." But the truth is, I was looking for something like this shop. My heart was hoping the whole time I was walking aimlessly down the streets like a homeless person. 

"Yes," he answered. "Do you want anything now?"

I nodded. "I'll go for a (size)-sized (F/R) ramen."

"Roger that," he quickly snatches a pack of uncooked noodles and throws it into the boiling hot water. "It'll be right up."

I sighed, letting my back slouch from trying to keep my composure. I then attempted to do a little glance towards the stranger a couple of empty seats beside me to see if they were still staring back. Yep - he/she was still staring at me, only now I couldn't look back.

The stranger's face lit up and smiled. "Ah, you finally looked at me!" He/She beamed. "I knew you were a new customer."

"Um, yes?" Didn't he/she hear our conversation earlier? I'm pretty sure it was loud enough to be heard across the whole place. "Do you need anything from me?"

"Sadly, yes," he/she replied, setting aside the empty bowl to where the shopkeeper could see it. "You see, I've gotten bored and tired of the old geezers that come by this place starting June. They're all weather and newspapers when they talk. Nobody talks about young people's topics."

"Young people topics?" I frowned at his/her choice of words. "You mean millennial?"

He/She kept on talking, ignoring my pathetic attempt to respond as much as I can in a sudden, unwanted chat. I didn't want to complain though since I didn't have to talk and just let him/her babble as much as he/she wants. 

"Like, people look at you weird when you talk about relationships - or anything about romance. They have this nasty smile that I'm a hundred-percent sure says 'inexperienced-fetus' just because most of them are married or had an ex-husband or wife," he/she sighed with closed eyes, propping his/her chin in the palm of his/her hand while it rested against the counter. 

"It's like romance for us 'youngsters' sound like a pathetic playdate to them. Tch." 

He/She was right - the old people that always came here sounded like assholes, but then again there were still some that found young love stories entertaining, some magical, even. I think he/she just needed to find the right person to tell all those experiences to.

"Not all," I replied, mumbling a quiet thanks to the shopkeeper as he set down the piping hot plate of (F/R) ramen. "There are some old people who'd die for those stories. I know a few and they always swoon over the littlest daily encounters I have with my boyfriend/girlfriend."

The stranger's eyes widened in from what I could tell was a surprise. I was a bit offended, but I brushed it off with a chuckle. "You're in a relationship? Wow, I never thought."

"I don't know if that's a compliment or not," I  grin like an idiot. "But I'll take it as one. I was surprised I got into one myself, anyway."

"And are you happy in that relationship of yours?" He/She inquired. The innocent look in his/her face tells me that he didn't mean to cause any harm or offense, and I felt a little irritated when he/she asked it with such an oblivious look, so I felt happy to enlighten him/her with a simple answer.

"No," I look down to fish some noodles that were submerged by the oily broth. "It used to be, but now I feel like it's losing it's... you know."

"Spark? Fire? Charm?" 

"Yeah, that," I say. "I don't know if it's me, or him/her, or maybe it's our relationship as a whole is the problem. I've never felt so confused about my life."

He/She went quiet and stared as I ate my ramen. I didn't bother looking back.

"Hey," called the stranger. His/Her voice was a lot softer now, I liked it. "Look at me, please."

I did what I was told and looked; I saw his/her eyes, looking back with a squint as if he/she was trying to fish something out of me. Deciphering, scrutinizing, looking. "Lovely eyes, I see," he sent me a warm smile - much warmer than the heat coming from the bowl in front of me and I felt my cheeks burn at the sight of it.

"I'll have to wait for centuries just to see one like yours again, so keep 'em looking up, prince/princess." 

[ a/n ; this is spontaneously written, so expect lots of errors! stay tuned~ ]