Memories Within Centuries

Instincts.

I mumbled something incoherently as I stepped into my walk-in closet. I quickly pulled on some jeans, buttoned a white shirt and shrugged on my coat. I wasn't really sure why I was in such a hurry, I just felt that I had somewhere to be.
I slid into the drivers seat of my Mercedes. Then turned the key to ignite the engine. My foot pressed the pedal and I sped out of the lot, just following the highway, going in and out of lanes at whim. "I'm not sure where I'm going but I might as well follow instinct," I said with a small grumble, turning on the radio. It locked on a news forecast and he just lowered the volume, "It's always cold here, why bother." I tugged on the collar of my coat and drove into a parallel park space. After turning off the engine I sauntered out of the confines of my car and into a rustic looking café for a bit of breakfast.

The waitress sat me down in a minute round table over in the corner. I mumbled a thanks and shrunk down behind the tall menu. "How am I going to do this? I only know one thing about her now, her name. And I'm not even sure about it." I looked around and ducked my head further behind the menu, "Rosemary," I breathed out nervously. I let a small smile spread across my lips as I touched them, I was oddly happy to taste her name on my lips again.
I heard someone clear their throat in front of me. I jumped, being skittish, I peered over the menu and took it down, "Y-Yes," I asked with a nervous laugh. A tall blond stood before me, she wore too much mascara and chewed her gum too loudly, occasionally popping it rudely. "What'll ya have," she asked briskly, pressing the pen tip to her tongue. "Uh", I briefly skimmed over the menu, "Only a coffee and croissant, thanks." She scribbled something down and flitted away into the kitchen. I sighed, slumping down into my chair. "What am I going to do," I grumbled, "Why isn't anyone else like me? Why do I always have to be alone?" I shouted mentally.
I clenched my fists as the waitress ambled over to my table. I looked up, trying to seem normal for once, "What is normal?" I inquired silently. I looked up, my green eyes meeting her honey ones. I gasped audibly, but before me stood a rather petite girl, probably around 18-20 years of age. She set down my coffee and tossed a warm, glazed croissant on a rotund dish. She jutted out her hip, a stand of stray brown hair falling before her face, "Anything else?"
I blinked a few times, snapping back to reality, "N-No," I stuttered, "Thanks." I guessed this is what they meant by 'eye contact': a very awkward moment at which you stare at someone for half a second. She turned on her heel just as she was about to leave, I raised my hand, "'Scuse me, but what's your name, miss?" I slapped myself mentally. "Wrong year, prince Charles!"
She quirked a brow, "Rosemary," she murmured before walking off. I looked down at my feet, unable to contain my ecstatic feeling. I sat there, grinning like a complete idiot at my shoes, oblivious to the world around me. I left my drink and snack untouched, leaving a few dollars for the bill. "I have no time to waste, I need to get close to her."