Jordan Clare's POV
I rode down many streets and finally came past a few rows of houses and stores where came across a small coffee shop. I parked my bike outside and looked through the window. Looks clean, I think. I grab my backpack off of my bike and head into the shop. I found a table next to the window on the far side so I would be able to watch my bike. I forgot my bike lock back at the house. I set my backpack down in the brown stool chair, grab my phone and money out of it and head up to the counter to order.
After getting my coffee and a fresh biscuit I head back over to the table that I had claimed for myself. I was only halfway there when I looked up to see that someone else was sitting on the opposite side of my backpack. The first thing I thought was, he's going to try and steal my stuff. But this boy looked way too innocent to even think about stealing something from someone. He looked to be about my age, maybe a year older. His skin looked to be unblemished besides the freckles that flake his nose and tops of his cheeks. They seemed to be just a slight shade darker than his skin and you barely could have seen unless you were staring. Which, I was. He had jet black hair and it curled just before his eyes. The top of his circular black glasses touched just the very ends of his hair. His hair and glasses were the cutest thing I have ever seen on a boy. Or a person in general. I began to think, I bet he's a whole package. Smart and cute. Even though I shouldn't have thought that I did and I immediately pushed it away as I began walking towards him again.
I could feel the butterflies in my stomach multiply with every step closer to him. Why is he sitting there, couldn't he have picked somewhere else to sit, I begin to think. "What am I supposed to say to him? How do I tell him I was sitting there."
"Continuerai a fissarmi o cosa voui?" ("Will you keep staring at me or what do you want?") He said leaning back in his chair and pulling away from his phone. He looked a bit annoyed.
Shit. I must have said something out loud on accident. Shit. Shit. Shit. I mentally curse myself for my carelessness. I continued to look at him while I decided what to say when I noticed his eyes were a deep purple and I couldn't seem to get a grip as my thoughts slipped away from me and I fell into his eyes.
He seemed to look even prettier like that, God what the hell am I thinking, of course he's not pretty. "No, but he is handsome as fuck." That time I heard myself say what I was thinking and I could feel myself turning red.
"Okay, you definitely said something that time." This time he set his phone down on the table in front of him and turned his full attention to me.
I was full of embarrassment and not sure what to say, so I grabbed my backpack from the seat on the opposite side of him and found another table on the other side of the shop where I could still see my bike sitting out in front of the coffee shop.
After a few minutes of sitting at the new table, trying to drink the coffee, which I will never be getting again, and overthinking what the fuck I just did, a guy comes over and sets his drink and phone at the spot in front of me. Since I was looking down, trying to avoid eye contact with anymore strangers, i could see that he had nice strong legs. They weren't those legs that were fat with muscle but they were slim and neat. He was wearing dark gray pants and black shoes. The colors were so close in shade, you would only see the difference if you were staring at them. Which, I was.
"Ti dispiace se mi siedo qui?" (Do you mind if I sit here?) The voice was calm, it sounded like the one I heard at the table before. I suddenly found myself wishing it wasn't the guy from before. I can feel my cheeks flush a bright red when I look up to it being the same boy from before. I nod my head even though I have no idea what it was he asked me. If he even asked me something.
He gave a small chuckle and took a seat in front of me where he set his phone and drink. I watched him get situated with my head titled down so he wouldn't see that I was watching him. He gave another small laugh when he realized that I was not going to look up any time soon. His laugh was infectious and i began to feel butterflies the longer I felt his eyes scan over me.
"You know you could have told me you were sitting there, right? I would have moved, or we could have shared. That's a thing, you know." His accent was thick, but was still easily understandable. I blushed again as he spoke and quickly tried to hide it by pushing my face and burying it in my hands.
"Umm, I didn't know that people spoke a whole new language here. I would have learned it before I.." my voice became quiet. I can feel his eyes wandering me while I continue to stare straight down at the table in between us. I will myself not to look. Not to look up at the beautiful purple eyes that are already staring right at me. As long as you don't look into his eyes, nothing can go wrong, I think.
"They don't," he says calmly. "I'm from Italy." I ever so slowly look up at him as he continues to explain where he is from and that there was no reason to freak out. Some of that were his exact words. I first looked at his hands that were clasped around his drink causing his veins to pop out in them to. Then, I followed up from his hands to his arms which were covered by a gray long-sleeved shirt which hosted a black and white spitfire fireball on the backside of it. My eyes finally rested on his face. He had a sharp jawline that could probably cut fruit, and nose that fit perfectly in the center of his face. His black hair screamed to be touch, and for a second I wanted to. And finally, without meaning to, landing on his eyes. But this time, they didn't look purple, they looked almost black. And thankfully, the whole time I looked over him, he was looking down.
I quickly looked away and then we were thrown into a moment of awkward silence so I grabbed my phone and began scrolling through Instagram not knowing what we should do. I took a sip of my coffee hoping to steal a glance at what the guy was doing so that I wouldn't do anything stupid. Exactly what I had set out to not do became the very thing that i did. Make myself look stupid. I choked on the disgusting coffee pushing it away. Definitely not the same as it is in Atlanta, I think to myself as I take a bite of my biscuit. I was trying really hard not to pay any attention to the guy across from me, but I could feel his eyes on my like they were lasers.
Finally he spoke up and said, "Devi essere nuovo qui, (you must be new) everyone here knows not to get that drink. Where are you from?" After not answering him, he speaks up again. "Devi davvero imparare a parlare con le persone." (You really have to learn to talk to people.)
"I, um..." I say shaking my head no so that he at least knows that I have no idea what he is saying.
"I said, 'You really have to learn how to talk to people,'" His accent was even thinker than it was before and before I knew it, thinking about his accent started to give me butterflies. I willed the butterflies that were fiercely flapping their wings around in my stomach to stop, but they wouldn't seem to stop now that he was sitting here in front of me.
"I'm so sorry, but-," I was going to say that I needed to leave. Which, was partly true because I did need to go home, but I did not need to leave right this moment.
"Here, let me buy you a different drink. It can make up for taking your original table, and replace that nasty drink," he says crinkling up his face at the last part, but then laughing. Clearly this guy had other plans than leaving me alone. Which I guess wasn't to bad, except that he makes me feel nervous.
Don't do it Jordan, I think repeatedly, You really need to leave.
"I.. erm..., yea sure, why not?" I say mentally scolding myself for falling into his "trap".
"Here, come on," he says standing up to walk over to the counter. "I can show you what drinks are worth it and what drinks are worth it." At first I look a bit confused, but he offers and explanation. "I just meant, in case you decided to come back here or if you don't that's okay, just in case you do." He says beginning to get nervous but still offering a small smile. I smile back.
I end up settling on a white chocolate hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. I can tell you that when, if, I come back, this will be my go to drink. After talking for about another hour, I finished my hot chocolate and decided that it was time for me to head home.
"Hey, erm..." I begin not knowing how to phrase it. "I never got your name before we started talking," I say shyly offering a small laugh to ease the awkwardness that I had just created.
"Luca," he says, "Luca Marcello."
"Okay, Luca Marcello, I have to leave. Will I... Will I see you here again?" As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret saying them. If he knows that I want to see him again, of course he is not going to come back, I think. Out of embarrassment, I shove both my phone and my left over money into my backpack, mutter a quick and quiet "goodbye", and head straight for the coffee shop door.
Once I open the door and hear the hanging bell rings, I hear Luca say, "I'm always here," I turned back only for a second without meeting his eyes I nodded quickly and was out the door. I knew because of the heat I felt rising to my face that I was in the right to only nod instead of say anything because I would not be able to trust my voice.
With my heart beating harder against my chest each time and my cheeks, though probably bright red, felt like they were burning, I rode my bike down the few streets it took me to get here.
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