For You and maybe Me

~ > 4 < ~

~You are driving me crazy~

George said that he knew a good Café near where we could go, and this is what we did. He held the door open for me again like a real gentleman and led the way, just like you always knew from films. I did not notice that I was smiling until George and I sat down at a table and he spoke to me. "Why are you smiling?" he asked, laughing but giving me a smile back.
"Am I supposed to cry?", I joked, raising my eyebrows.
"No, no. I like your smile, it's really cute."
I giggled, noticing the temperature rising in my cheeks. I had probably turned as red as a tomato. "I guess that should be a compliment?", I asked because I was afraid that would be too embarrassing.
"I let you choose.", he just said and winked at me.
A waiter came to us at this moment, asked what we wanted, and I was happy that it was at that moment. "A cappuccino please.", I said.
"Latte Macchiato with caramel please.", George said when the waiter looked at him.
"Thank you", the waiter, wrote it down and went again.
George and I looked again at each other and smiled. I liked how we always caught each other's eyes and started to smile. "Tell me something about you.", I asked, so that we could start a conversation again.
"What would you like to know?"
"Just tell me something."
"Okay so, my name is George Russell, I am 21 years old. I was born in King's Lynn and my hobbies are doing fitness, motorbiking and I guess driving cars."
"Would be weird if not.", I added.
"Now you. I guess these are things you already know.", he opined.
"Sounds like I would be a stalker.", I interjected, sounding playfully offended. He laughed at my joke. "I like how you funny you take things. We know us for a few hours, and it was never a minute boring with you."
That was another compliment, right? Oh my god. I liked how he gave me compliments.
"Thank you", I thanked a bit shy. I was always open-minded and never shy. It was just another level for me when a male person gives me compliments like this.
"But yeah. My name is Elizabeth, I am 21 years old as well. I was born in Hungary and lived there until 2006. Afterward, I moved to Germany with my family and I finished high school in 2016 and college in 2018. My hobbies are playing the guitar, listen to music, reading, and writing books."
"Hold on", George said and made big eyes. The waiter interrupted us and gave us our coffee. "Cappuccino and Latte Macchiato with caramel."
"Thanks, mate.", George thanked and looked at me again when the waiter was gone again. "You are writing books? How cool is that?! What about?"
I started to smile again while I was drinking from my coffee. It was always the same: I loved to speak about my books. This is what I created on my own, without any helped and I am proud of it. "About everything actually."
"That is nice. Ever thought to publish them?"
"Actually yes. But I am still afraid and after college I tried everything to work for Formula 1, so I had no time thing about it.", I explained. "It's like escaping for me and I love it."
"Why escaping?", he asked curiously and drank from his coffee. This was something that I would not tell someone that I met a couple of hours ago. But it was so weird. George and I understood each other well and I realized that we have the same humor. I had this feeling with him that we knew us for ages and that I can trust him. I mean he was interested in me. In me. Elizabeth Ward. I am everything but not interesting. And yes, I am weird. One side tells me to trust him already but my other dumb side (which is always like this) tells me not to trust someone that early. It is true, that would be too early. But I cannot say "nope, will not tell you why." But it is still my past. I hate my past. But this is the reason why I do it.
"Uhm yeah. I guess I can say that I had some ups and downs in my life and the writing helped me a lot to escape into my fantasy.", I said finally. "The reason why I have this tattoo.", I supplement and pulled up the left sleeve of my white jumper a little so I could show my tattoo. It was an open book and inside it said: "Be a Survivor".
"It is very beautiful.", George said as he looked at it closely. "Tattoos with an important and personal meaning are 100 times more beautiful."
"That is true.", I agreed. "Each of my tattoos has a meaning."
"Wait, each of your tattoos? How many do you have?"
"Just three more.", I answered with a laughed when I saw his confused face. "I do not have a back like Lewis Hamilton."
"I have to say that his tattoos are amazing. But I am afraid to do some."
"I know what you mean, I was afraid too and I had my first tattoo on my feed which hurt the most."
George's face contorted. "Oh damn, then I know where no tattoo will ever go," he said and drank his coffee again. There was another awkward silence. I looked out of the window and took a breath. So much has happened in the last few days that it feels like a dream. I moved to England out of nowhere to fulfill a long-standing dream that involved some risk, and then I got the job. And then it was. George Russell. The handsome British Formula 1 driver who I just sat down within a café, even though we had only met a few hours ago. My gaze slid back to him and I noticed how he looked at me. His elbow was on the table and his hands were intertwined. "Do you mind if I take a picture for Instagram?" asked George. "So of course, so you're not in it," he added quickly.
"Sure, no problem," I replied. "I can take one of you, too," I suggested. "I've got a bit of a talent for photography."
"Yeah sure," he accepted my offer and handed me his phone. I pointed the camera at him and tried to find something that might look good. "Put the cup in your hand and then look out the window," I prompted. He listened to me and did what I said. But I still did not like it. "Ehm, okay. Pretend to drink to it," I said. He did the same and I liked it more, but something was still missing. Carefully I leaned forward and put my fingers briefly on his cheek so that his face would face the window more. I caught his eyes following my gesture and smiled briefly at it. Then I quickly adjusted his watch and sat back down on the chair so I could take the photo. This time I liked it and pressed the photo button a few times. "There, done.", I announced and held his phone out to him again. "Oh man, I've never positioned for so long," he complained playfully. He glanced at his phone and his eyes widened. "Hey, these turned out really well.", he praised me. "Thanks."
"You are welcome."
"Ever thought to start with photographing?", George asked.
"Actually yes. But I thought it would be best to start in England. It is a bit like a new start for me here. So yeah."
We sat for another hour at the café and we decided to go again. George immediately held out the money for both coffees to the waiter, whereupon I began to protest. "Hey, I can pay too," I interjected, reaching for my bag. "It's all right, Elizabeth," he said and handed the money to the waiter. "Thanks, mate," George thanked me and we both said goodbye. "Now I feel bad," I admitted.
"Ah what. I'm British and a gentleman so you've done nothing wrong.", he winked at me as we put on our jackets.
"All right," I said, not wanting to start one of those cheesy discussions like in the movies. Besides, I thought it was cute because another male bought me a coffee.
We went back outside and realized that our meeting was over. Damn. I meant well, we had a nice chat in the last hour and I realized what a great person George really is. In fact, I never wanted this meeting to end.
"Um, if you want, I can take you home," he suggested when we were at his car in the car park.
"Oh, no, it's fine. I just need to get to the station, two minutes' walk from here if I saw it right," I said. "But nice of you."
"Nonsense, I can take you home. I don't mind at all," he replied. "Where do you live?"
"It would be too inconvenient to drive to Swinton now," I contradicted him. "And you still have training today, don't you?"
"Ah, my coach can wait 10 minutes. If I tell him I brought a pretty girl home, he will not be surprised," he argued.
I bit my lips discreetly. Did he just say that? It was kind of sweet, but then I thought for a moment that he could have done that too many girls.
He opened the passenger door. "So?"
I hesitated for a moment. Yes or no?
"Or are you panicking about sitting on the right side in England again?" he joked with a boyish grin. I chuckled and got in. My thoughts from earlier were forgotten again.
I was looking forward to getting to know George Russell even better.