The whole cafe was packed and was screaming with nostalgia as the short-haired girl seated in a two-person table subtly scanned the room, her eyes scrutinizing all the faces that entered using the chimed door.
Her hands were clasped together while she nibbled the bottom of her lips. The Dawn Lychee Ombre bubble tea she had ordered remained sitting on the table, untouched, droplets of condensation sliding down the cup down to the moist table; the last two cubes of ice fighting for their dear lives.
When one specific guy entered the vicinity, she immediately sat with such stillness that the trembling of her legs became even more evident.
Their eyes met, and the guy took a few seconds to stare at her. He was wearing a clean haircut, and he looked even more presentable with the clean polo shirt that he was wearing. After a few seconds that felt longer than they should be, he started walking towards her direction, his right hand clenched inside the pocket of his jeans.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat on the vacant seat in front of her.
Niña pursed her lips before looking away. With one deep breath, she replied, "You're not late. I'm just way too early."
"Then I'm sorry if I wasn't early enough." She wasn't able to see how his hands trembled when he tried resting them on the table. Before she got to see, he decided to rest them inside his pockets, clenched and still.
Their gazes met once again, and if there was only one person that could read their eyes then they would both know all the things they had been wanting to say to each other, all the words that had been resting at the bottom of their stomachs, all the words that had been wanting to climb up to their throats and not just to rest at the tip of their tongues.
Maybe right at that moment, the both of them had silently looked back at those times when their eyes were enough to converse, when they would immediately know what the other had to say just by looking at each other's pair.
Those moments felt like a time from the classical period for the emotions were there, but they no longer spoke to each other like they used to be. They seemed like strangers who had forgotten the days of their acquaintance.
No one knew how long they shared the silence between the both of them, and when Niña opened her mouth to say something, Owen's hands went out of his pockets and gripped the sides of the chair tightly.
"Owen, we can't be together." Niña looked away, and tightened her grip around the strap of her bag. Owen, on the other hand, remained looking at her. Whether he was nervous or distressed, only he could know for he wore an unfathomable countenance, and Niña couldn't see how tightly he grasped the sides of the chair.
She took a deep breath before meeting the guy's eyes. There was a slight pause as they looked at each other. The heaviness of the atmosphere in their bubble could be felt even from the seat farthest from their direction, and they could blame no one whenever the passing people turned their gazes towards them, shotting them a look of curiosity.
Maybe the whole situation really looked like something out from a movie, and she wore an apprehensive countenance, probably while she tried to string the words that she wanted to say.
"I don't want to force myself in your life if you no longer want me," he said. She bit her lip upon hearing that. "But I just want to ask for a reason why, at least something that could shut all the fantasies away. Please?"
She looked away, still biting the bottom of her lip. Her face becoming a brighter red the longer she sat there, the longer she sat in front of him.
Her left hand subconsciously rested at the top of her belly before rubbing it in circles.
Owen's eyes dropped at the bubble tea that was sitting quietly on the table. It was as if it was listening to the both of them as well.
He looked carefully while he waited for her answer, still grasping the sides of the chair tightly.
The last cube of ice in her bubble tea had probably melted finally, rejoining with the group.
"I'm getting married."
