Cell Phone || Marco Reus

Chapter 4: Attracted

Sara-Maria looks at her watch; it’s nearly eight o’clock, she’ll close the shop in five minutes, if there are no more customers. Sometimes people come very late, and of course she can’t send them away; she has to wait until they’re done with their shopping. But it’s not often that people do that.

She is about to get the keys when she feels there’s someone behind her. She turns around. “Marco,” she exclaims. And before she knows it, she has closed the gap and hugged him. He smells good, like he always does; a combination of fresh cologne and something else that is so—him. When she realises what she’s doing, she immediately pulls away, feeling quite embarrassed. What’s wrong with her? She doesn’t normally let her feelings get the best of her.

The smile on Marco’s face doesn’t help. “Missed me?”

Actually, yes… she did. She smiles back, concealing her embarrassment by saying, “It’s good to see you again. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

He shrugs lightly. “Partly because I didn’t want to interrupt while you were at work, and partly because I wanted to surprise you,” he says, grinning, looking adorable while doing so.

“Well, I was surprised,” she admits. She went back to Dortmund yesterday, and today is the first day of work after the holidays. “I didn’t expect you to be here this late.”

“My apologies,” he says, although his expression says otherwise. “Have you had dinner?”

“No. I tend to have a late dinner when I’m on evening shift.” She normally waits until she’s home or gets some takeaway food on the way home.

“Okay. I haven’t either. Want to have dinner with me?” he asks, looking at her. “At my place.” He is smiling, but his eyes are… hopeful?

Did he say at his place?

“You know, I begin to think that you associate me with food,” she jokes, swiftly walking to the counter to get the keys, so he won’t see her face that must be blushing, judging from how warm it feels…

She hears him laugh. “Is that a yes?” he asks.

Holding the keys in her hand, she takes a deep breath before turning around to face him. “I need to close the shop first. Give me a minute.” Marco smiles and nods.

God, I can’t believe I’m digging my own grave… What am I doing? Oh, come on, It’s just a dinner. It won’t be that bad.

It can’t be that bad.

~*~

His flat is super nice. It’s modern and minimalistic, yet beautiful and comfortable, with white walls, high ceiling and tall, glass windows that shows the view of the city.

“Your place is really nice,” she comments, taking in the scenery outside the window. She likes that the flat is quite high up.

“Thank you. Make yourself comfortable,” he replies. “I’ll just start on the food, so we won’t eat so late. Aren’t you hungry?” He makes his way to the kitchen. She walks after him.

“A bit. What are you making? Anything I can help?”

“It’s a lasagne, which my mum made; I just need to throw it in the oven,” he says, grinning slightly as he opens the fridge door and takes out the lasagne in a baking tray. “I know it’ll be good.” He preheats the oven at about 180⁰C.

“I see. So, it’s not really your cooking,” she teases him.

He chuckles. “No. But my mum cooks a lot better than me, so no worries there.”