Scarlett Johansson x Female Reader Imagines

jet lag pt. 3

Finally, I knew where she was leading me too. We were running to the outskirts of town, to the beach — the beach that was usually flooded with humans during the day. As the night fell, the beach transitioned itself to an imperturbable, oddly placid dimension. No human's chit-chatting voice, no boat engine revving up noise, no seagulls wail. Only the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, leaving seashells dispersed along the shoreline, the boats hitting each other rhythmically as they were raised and lowered by the waves, the laughter of two lost souls who finally found each other in a foreign land or two idiots who had run for 20 minutes before coming to a rest.

"Behold, the beach at night," Scarlett announced.

I was perplexed by the picturesque panorama in front of my eyes. The sense of breathlessness was thrown to the back of my mind. On the black canvas of the sky, came the grace of white-gold moon in its dappled beauty, bathing in the light of the sun and bringing tidbits of it to the earthlings who could not sleep. Millions and billions of stars exploded, blinking at us like they were curious about the two newcomers. The sea acted as the mirror of the stars, reflecting every single light traveled for a substantial amount of time through the void to reach our eyes. The waves were dancing with the reflected stars, forming bokeh that glistened and vanished when they were washed up to the shore.

"It's wonderful, doesn't it?" She asked.

I nodded. I was speechless under the otherworldly view of the night sky. How on earth could I ever deserve the honor to observe this breathtaking sight with my own eyes, at the actual scene, in my lifetime? But out of everything, I was most startled to who I was sharing this heaven-like scene with. In the nocturne of the dark with the stars as the accompaniment and the moon as the soloist, nothing could top the feeling of having her standing by my side, clutching her hand, fingers still intertwining with hers. Overwhelmed by the feeling lucky and privileged, I had no courage to ask for more but to savor the current moment.

She ducked down all of a sudden while my head was still processing the difficult emotion. Immediately, I turned to her way as she was lost from my side-eye view, and sighed with relief when found out that she was only sitting down on the white sand. I felt a pull on my hand, signaling me to sit down with her. In spite of knowing really well that the sand would ruin my pants, I chose to obey her call. She laid her head on my shoulders and stared blankly into the darkness. I gave up pondering about what was going on with her mind and rested my head on hers, gape landing on her flawless face, watching her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked, beads of sweat condensed on her forehead after the run, her chest rising up and down as she breathed.

"What were you thinking?" She asked.

"Wishing Saturday could arrive as soon as possible so I could get my ass back home," I answered after a sigh, "what about you?"

"Thinking about the first day we met," she turned her head up and looked at me with a grin.

I asked confusedly, "you mean at the bar just now?"

"What? No!" She sat up straight and exclaimed, "don't you remember?"

Did I meet her beforehand? When? Where? How? I combed back through my memory as fast as lightning but found nothing regarding that question. Looking at my puzzled face, she asked again, "you were working in a Starbucks in LA three years ago, right?"

I nodded. The fragments of my memories were flashing in my head like a supercut until I found a figure that was similar to Scarlett. My eyes grew wide and asked, "you're the regular under the name 'Jo'?"

"Yes!" She cried, "how could you not remember? Didn't you always scribble some notes on my cups every time I ordered one?"

"I did it for every customer!"