Currently, I am wrapped tightly in a warm blanket. The morning sunshine has faded, exposing the chilly night air.
A rich, aromatic breeze of roasted coffee beans lingered past me as I stepped into the coffee shop.
The space was rather vacant, compared to all the other crowded Starbucks’ I’ve ever walked into. The location of this branch itself felt isolated from the rest of world–but I liked that. It gave off a safe, well-kept sensation. It blocked off the loud and busy streets of Westchester, which was a nice change.
I scanned the room for Blake; he was sitting on a a deep brown, shabby leather couch. He looked up from his phone and smiled at me before getting up. “Hey,” he said as we sat down.
“Hi,” I whispered, raking my hair away from my face. I felt like talking in a normal voice would disturb the calm air.
“Can I get you anything?” asked Blaked over a few hushed conversations.
“A non-fat hazelnut machiatto would be great.”
Blake’s maroon beanie bounced as he nodded, before disappearing to get our drinks. The sound of his vintage Doc Martens padding against the hardwood floor filled the quiet atmosphere. The dainty coffee shop was calm enough to rock a baby to sleep. I jumped in my seat as the sound of coffee beans grinding broke through the peaceful air.
I smiled as Blake placed my mug on the chestnut table. I wrapped my fingers around the cup. The warmth crawled up my arm, instantly warming me up. I took a sip, embracing the hot, heavenly liquid, while Blake pulled something out of the pocket of his subtly ripped jeans. He clenched it tightly in his fist, as if he was trying to stop it from escaping his tight grip. I set my ceramic mug on the table as he rolled the object onto the dark table. Blake shifted uncomfortably, sinking into the leather couch, as I squinted at the object. I recognized what the object was at that moment.Well, he didn’t pick it up yet, I thought, does that mean I should? I gently touched it with my fingertips, and observed Blake for a reaction; he perked up in his seat; I took that as a cue to roll the tiny bottle into my palm.
The bottle had a tiny, scarlet heart inside it. A blank tag was attached to the neck of the bottle.
“To the girl who stole my heart,” said Blake with a crooked smile on his face, “Better call the cops.”
“Cheesy,” I giggled over the (barely there) gentle murmurs.
Bottle. Heart. The girl who stole it.
It all made sense. It all clicked together.
The rest of the night flew by as jokes were cracked and laughters were burst into. As cliché as it sounds, I actually enjoyed it. I dropped a subtle hint about Alicia’s party as I savored the last few drops of coffee, right before leaving.
I force myself to type the final words of this post before nodding into deep sleep.
I know I took ages to get this post up. I had “technical difficulties”
Also, I’m trying to get to 400 views (keep your comments to yourself, haha) , so I’d really appreciate it if you gave me a few shoutouts! (: I’d be more than happy to return the favor.
I will be updating my Luxuriate page soon, so keep an eye out for that!
Also, Marvil Princess and I are co-hosting a contest. Click her for more info.
I have a lot of posts to read, and you know what that means. That’s right, a commenting spree!