You give me the type of feeling; people write novels about (unknown)
Eastern Europe
London, United Kingdom
6th of August 2006
As the sun rose up from the treacherous depths of the dark, bleak aftermath of nightfall, its rays radiated through the white rimmed panel windows. An alarm clock rung in the silence of the 5am morning light, whilst the birds began chirping in unison, her arms stretched out to the alarms snooze button, her eyes still barely opened as a yawn escaped her lips, she was content, as she sat up against the head rest of her bed, she began reading the book that was once kept opened on her nightstand from last night, she had been catching up on a good book and couldn't wait to finish the last few chapters, she felt happy for these brief moments.
Once done she closed up the book and made her way to the bathroom to do her morning routine, brushing her teeth first before she took a shower, stepping out she noticed the condensation had fogged up the mirror that hung on her beige coloured walls, using her hand she wiped the steam off and proceeded to put on her makeup, her eyes were droopy from the scarcity of sleep she had last night reading her book.
But as she looked at herself, she knew that reading till after midnight had been worth it, with yet another lazy yawn she added the final touch-ups before putting on her clothing, she opted for blue skinny jeans, a white tube top with black knee high boots, she paired it off with pearl earrings and a matching necklace, a slave bracelet hung loosely on her arm decorated with charm rings of flowers, she added lip balm and was ready to leave the house.
The seven thirty sun hit her face considerably, the fresh air engulfing her senses, the new city smell doesn't dissuade her anymore, it had become a familiarity in these few months, walking over to a local bakery, its sixties inspired theme feel, brought a sense of calm as she entered, the bell atop the door chimed gently, and a friendly baker greeted her with a smile.
"What can I get you young lady", the old man asked her as she approached the counter, she took in his appearance, he wore a dirty apron filled with what seemed like jam and flour, the heavenly scent of baked pastries filled her nostrils, it was enough to overlook his appearance, yet the hunger caused by the aromatic smells instigated her stomach to rumble rather vociferously. Her eyes swept through a variety of appealing delicacies behind the display glass, some with fruits, some with nuts, chocolate, vanilla cream, plain, but she was feeling a little rebellious this morning, "I'll have the brioche, the one with chocolate chips and vanilla cream, also could I have a palazzo with that please?", she hated cooked fruits in anything she ate, so she couldn't stomach something she craved so bad to have that, and a cold coffee never hurt anyone on such a sweltering day despite her fatigue, she did need some caffeine to rouse her up.
The kind, elder man gave her – her order and thus she proceeded to pay, giving the man a kind smile as he handed her – her change before making her way towards the exit, her gaze fixed on putting her change in her bag, with her attention now below ,she began closing up her bag, she bumped into a hard masculine frame, spilling some cream from her palazzo onto his crisply pressed black shirt, what a day to be clumsy she thought, as she looked up meeting the stunned and exasperated stare of the man she never thought in a million years she'd see again, five years is a long time to remember a face you have only seen once, but some faces leave an image in your mind so prominent it's hard to expunge, despite this, Eros seemed unfazed by her behaviour, he knew she recognised him, but the irony was quite funny, the day they met, he was the one causing other woman to spill coffee bean beverages on their matches, yet here he was, with the girl he avoided for five long years, in fear she was his, dabbing his shirt with a napkin, apologising profusely at the reality of the now distinct stain of white on his black shirt.
"I swear, I'm habitually more intuitive about my surroundings, I just-", she was flustered and fumbled for words, any reason to help ease the tint of pink that coated her pale cheeks, "it's fine, just walk away before you do something even more stupid, like destroying my shirt with the roughness of that appalling thing you call a napkin, feels more like sandpaper if you ask me", she was aghast at his rude demeanour, he hadn't changed since the last time, were he totally had brushed her off, her body burned with anger, "I think that the white stain actually makes that thing you call a shirt more appealing if you ask me", it felt as if someone had lit a match and flicked it against her skin, her anger was ablaze, "well isn't that a good thing since nobody did ask you", scoffing his way pass her, she stood there, at a loss for words at this man, though his retreating figure screamed at her to follow him and give him a piece of her mind, maybe teach him some of the basics of courteous behaviour.
With his back facing her, Eros couldn't help but crack a smile, even though he knew his behaviour was tremendously hostile, he couldn't help but melt over her flushed cheeks and quivering lips, yet he kept himself stable and walked away, disregarding the desire to turn around and kiss her till her knees grew feeble and he had her breath knocked out of her lungs. She was a spitfire and he so desperately wanted to get burnt, leaving the inflicted scars to turn to ash beneath his feet. Grabbing his coffee after paying, he noticed the girl had left, disheartened he walked out the bakery and sighed deeply, maybe he had been too uptight, but even though the desire to look at her for the rest of eternity was what he wanted, he didn't miss the reason that she would suffer far worse than him if she stuck with him, resentment and disappointment flared in his aching bones, why did he have to suffer he thought.
To his sheer luck, the red haired ravenous spitfire was seated on a bench across the bakery, her pastry in her mouth, the cool beverage she had coated on his shirt lay upright on the bench, right by her side, a smirk crept on his face as she noticed him staring, her pastry, half chewed in her mouth, as she gaped at him in confusion, a chuckle made its way to his throat as he began walking over to her, "May I have the pleasure of keeping you company?", she looked at Eros quizzically before swallowing the remnants that had been in her mouth, "You may but as long as you leave your snarky personality at the invisible line five centimetres away from you", she remarked, he couldn't help the smooth, profound laugh that escaped him, and she thought of how beautiful it was, his laugh made her smile wildly, a smile that reached the heavens and back in untainted blissfulness.
As he sat next to her, she decided to take in his appearance, his pink lips stretched into a smile as he watched children playing on the swings, couples holding hands, the serene nature, his chestnut brown hair blowing in the wind, a defined jawline, masculine in his own form, his piercing silver eyes caught her staring and she quickly averted her gaze, embarrassed to have been caught staring so boldly at him, he smiled gently at her, knowing he had done the same, imprinting her image in his mind. "May, I know your name, if I may be so bold as to ask?", Eros pondered, in all this time, he had never taken the time to know what her name is, a blunder on his behalf, "Scarlette, my name is Scarlette Moon", she smiled extending her hand, "Eros, my name is Eros", placing his hand in hers in return of her handshake, a smile escaped the both of them as they sat in silence for a while eating delicious pastries and relishing tantalising cold beverages.