I've been sitting here thinking of what to say but my mind has drawn a blank. I don't know what to say. - 170k is a lot of different people reading this and I never imagined this story to get this big. Why!!! And how! I'm honestly speechless.
I read every single one of your comments and I have to say - you're all fúcking hilarious. I want all of you to be my friends. We'd have a good time. LOL.
Thank you for reading and being funny.
- L
•••
You put the key in the ignition and sigh guiltily as the engine comes alive. It's a chilly night as you drive down the empty streets with the growing lump in your stomach.
You need to see him. You know you shouldn't, but you don't care. You're going crazy; this isn't fair of you to do, you know that. You were the one that ended it, yet, now you're the one that need him.
You thought you were doing great - you haven't called him in two weeks. But a couple of thoughts too many and a moment of weakness lead you to the driver's seat of the car, on your way back to him.
He's working tonight. - Serving pretty girls and getting hitted on by anyone with eyes. The insight that he now has free permission to actually act on it sends a chill down your spine. Your foot instinctively presses down harder on the gas pedal.
It'll be just a quick stop, you tell yourself pathetically as you try to focus on the road. He doesn't even have to see me.
You gnaw on your lip and consider what you're about to do one last time as you park the car outside the entrance. Is this considered stalking?
"Fuck it," You mutter as you open the door and step out of the car, leaving the little dignity you had behind.
The smell of beer and something else hits you as you step foot into the bar. It's roudier than usual around this hour - it's still only 10 pm, yet every booth is peppered with people.
You scan the room and ignore the eyes on you; you're well aware of how lost you must look, dressed in a simple grey hoodie and a pair of skinny jeans.
You make your way through the crowd on the floor and try to keep your head high as you catch glimpse of his familiar curls among the many people.
The group of girls in front of you move to the side and your heart drops at the sight of his back behind the bar desk. You keep your distance and watch him serving pretty girls - though you can't see his face, you know he's wearing his polite smile as he replies to their flirty comments. They're probably throwing him all sorts of inappropriate remarks by the way they're currently pressed up against the counter with their tongue practically hanging out of their mouth. But you don't blame them, either. You probably look the same way as you watch the way his back muscles flex as he mixes his drinks. He looks...bigger. More...masculine.
And then it hits you.
He's here, working, living his life, doing his routines, while you're here ogling him like a dog. You look down with a shake of your head. What am I even doing?
You're about to turn around and walk out, but you're too late. - Because the second you look back up, your eyes lock with his.
And you freeze.
Fuck.
You release a shaky sigh as his jaw locks at the sight of you. You know you should turn around; leave, head home and never come here again. But you can't - you're stuck, frozen, too mortified to even move. Though as you watch Shawn whisper something to his colleague and walk around the counter with his eyes locked on you, your body finally reacts. Your first instinct is to run; but you're quick to realize the stupidity of that idea.
