Under the Umbrella ✓

-12-

How the fuck did he know that? She could feel herself turning crimson. Her mind was trying to trace back to every time she had glanced at him, and the count didn't help the rising fire on her face. She just couldn't understand how he'd notice that when it seemed like he didn't even see her the last time. She thought she was very subtle at that too.

"I saw your reflection from the window," he clarified as if he read her mind.

That explained everything, but nothing at the same time. Did it mean he purposely avoided looking at her? Why?

Aria squared her shoulders and waddled to the chair across from him, where it wasn't facing the counter of the café. It was the side she usually sat by whenever she got to the window seat, so she thought she wouldn't feel the unfamiliarity of it. Aria believed her decision was well-thought. If she had declined his offer, it would have meant that she was looking at him – even though it was the truth, which she didn't want him knowing.

Let him think that I'm just very hooked to this seat. Not like it's a lie... I am a fan of this seat. Everyone likes window seats. It's obvious. He would know. Okay, okay, shut up!

"I'll pay for your drink," Aria cut through her dashing thoughts and told him, letting him discern the obvious reason behind her advance.

"Okay." And he returned to peering back at his phone.

Just then, the middle-aged woman she had forgotten to acknowledge dropped by at the table to take her order. Once the two exchanged a brief greeting, she requested her drink, and the woman was gone right after.

Now it was just the two of them. The stiffness was internally gnawing her out to the point she regretted deciding to sit with him just to dodge any implication. She was still holding on to her assignment, and with nothing else to do, she went through it over and over again, but she didn't take in a word she read.

The woman had already brought her drink over by the time she realized all that reading was hurting her head. So this time, she looked out the window and observed the events of the slow street while she took the occasional sips of her cappuccino.

Still, she really couldn't help it. It wasn't that she was obsessive, but her eyes instinctively kept sneaking peeks at the stranger. She couldn't tell if it was because she was curious about him or if she was curious about what he thought of her. He must have thought something about her if he was willing to approach her twice and let her use his umbrella when he could have saved himself from an unwelcomed shower. She particularly wanted to ask him why he carried his umbrella around.

Her mind raced with thoughts of the stranger and about why she was concerned with him. Was she attracted to him?

Is he attractive? she asked herself, looking intently at him. It didn't astound her that she had recognized it belatedly. It had been a long-time problem of hers where she tended to overlook obvious things. So when she acknowledged that he was in fact quite good-looking, she eyed him up like how an artist would. She noted how the white shirt he wore now enhanced his features since he was rather tan-skinned. He had nice shoulders too.

Had her subconscious already perceived that he was good-looking? Was that why she was captivated by his gestures?

Was it the deep voice? Maybe the whole mystery aura?

She almost laughed aloud, knowing she was playing with her mind as if she were tricking someone else. Because she knew; she knew why. So elementary and yet so unfortunately pathetic.

Because for the first time in a very long time, there was something out of the ordinary and something interesting enough that albeit knowing nothing would come out of the interaction – or whatever it really was – wouldn't last long, she wanted even a day to be different. It was naïve of her to feel this way. She was only making herself look miserable.

He hadn't glanced up once from his phone, even between the short movements from when he had to sip on his drink, as if he was deliberately eluding her eyes. Or maybe he really was focused on whatever he was doing, but since it meant she wouldn't get caught this time for staring at him, she didn't mind.

She didn't realize her eyes were still on him at one point while her thoughts were elsewhere that when he abruptly looked up, she didn't have the time to avert her eyes. They had the strangest five seconds of eye contact before he stood up all of a sudden, pocketed his phone, grabbed his umbrella, and left the café.

She watched him carefully through the window to see if he'd open his umbrella to shelter himself from the sun when he was about to cross the street, but he didn't. She waited until he got to the other side but then failed to spot him after a car passed by. No one really uses it for the sun. Did he just carry that around everywhere?

When she went over to the counter to pay for their drinks soon after, the woman shook her head again. This time Aria was adamant about paying for it but to her surprise, the woman said, "That man you were with paid for it before he left."