24

EIGHTEENTH HOUR

She stared at the side of his face, admiring the contour of his face and the shadow formed from the angle the light shone through the window.

Shit like this made me want to get up every morning.

She thought to herself as she thought about opening her eyes in the morning to see this vision in front of her. She thought, for him, she would probably get up willingly just to see him off before going back to sleep. It would be worth it, especially if she got to see him fresh out of the shower and in a suit with his signature scent invading her nostrils. She would even tie his tie for him just to show that her knot was way better looking than his. She would button up his shirt because it looked so fitting on him.

She had a thing for men in suit, and this man in front of her was her fantasy come true.

"Yo like what ya see?"

Her eyes came back to focus and she blinked a few times. He was still looking out the window at the water, but the smirk on his face told her that it was indeed him that had spoken earlier.

She narrowed her eyes to a slit knowing that he was watching her from the corner of his eyes. She couldn't quite fathom his mood or what his thoughts were, but she hated him for breaking her out of her trance.

"You're staring." He pointed out the obvious when her gaze refocused and met his eyes. She nodded acknowledging the fact. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know. You seemed upset and it must've been something I've done."

"No," she shook her head genuinely confused. "You've done nothing wrong, baby. I was just thinking about our conversations. We are too different and it makes everything hard."

"Hard between us?"

"Yeah. You don't understand my life and I don't really get yours."

"What part of my life don't you get?" He hated the idea of them not working out. He knew they were different, and that was what he was attracted to about her.

"You can't loosen up." She murmured, looking down at her empty cup.

"I'll show you 'loosed up'." He promised in all seriousness. She was skeptical about that declaration but dropped it, so she shrugged in response.

"We'll see." She looked up at him with another purpose. "Shall we go?" She asked as he finished up.

He nodded, standing up and reaching for her hand as his other one reached for the cash, leaving a hefty tip on the table. It made her wonder if it was what he usually would do or was it because he was grateful that the waitress didn't tip them off after recognizing them. She did see the waitress subtly taking pictures of them from the counter from afar, but she didn't alert Christian knowing how he would react.

"You know, I never mentioned it before, but I overheard a conversation between Taylor and Sawyer." He clutched on her hand as if she would pull away once they stepped out of IHOP. "Fancy another walk?"

"Sure," she shrugged. If she wasn't strolling with him right now, she would either be in class in Berkeley or somewhere exercising since sometimes she just couldn't stop moving; hence her fast metabolism that kept her very fit.

"Do you want to know what they were talking about?"

"No," Anastasia deadpanned. She could already guess the topic of the discussion and she knew that Christian was only doing this to strike a light conversation, but she hated the lame and cliché way he was using at the moment.

"Come on, I thought you're curious about everything."

"I don't gossip."

"That's not gossip!"