Weird and Weirder

CH24. Daph's POV - Got to Get You Into My Life

Chapter 23 – Daph's POV

Got to Get You Into My Life

It's the weekend again, and just like an addict that needs its fix, I go to the flea market.

I'm just curious. That's really all it is. I'm curious whether or not my Flea Market Guy is going to be there, whether or not anything is going to happen.

I'm curious whether what I feel for this man is just because he's a shiny new toy, and I barely know anything about him so he's all mysterious, or if it's because there might be something there.

I know this is attraction. I know attraction. But I'm curious.

Am I obsessing over my Flea Market Guy because I haven't gotten him yet? Or is it because I'm so obsessed over finding someone to love, someone that might love me that I'm trying to make him into something he isn't?

I've never been in love. I don't know how it feels. I know this isn't it.

So, I wonder. Why do I keep wanting to come back for him?

What's the driving force?

Because if it's just a weird form of obsession, it would be kind of boring.

So, I dress up, and I drive to the flea market.

Unfortunately for me, once I get there, he's nowhere to be seen.

His table is set up with the usual stuff, but he's not actually there.

This feel a little too anticlimactic, so I don't turn around right away.

Maybe he's in the bathroom, or taking a call. Maybe he went to get something to eat, or he's just late.

I peruse through the market for more than an hour, looking over at his table constantly, but there's never any sign of him.

Is this the universe's way of telling me to move on?

I'm a little disappointed, if I'm being honest.

I still roam around, eating food and buying useless trinkets.

After the two-hour mark, I give up and I head back to my car.

I kind of freeze when I spot my Flea Market Guy leaning against my car.

I see him before he sees me.

He's even more gorgeous under the sun. His brown hair looks shinier, his eyes greener.

Honestly, it really freaking sucks that he's so good looking. It would be a lot easier to flush him out of my system if he wasn't.

Pretty privilege really is a thing.

I walk up to him, and he finally notices me, and smiles.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Your car is pretty easy to find in a parking lot."

I frown. "Why are you here and not inside?"

He shrugs. "I wasn't sure what I wanted."

He looks different. Hurt maybe? But not exactly. Tired? There's a light missing in his eyes, one that's usually there. I feel like the usual carefree façade is off.

If I had a better sense of preservation, I would probably be running away.

I narrow my eyes at him. "See, dude, waiting for a chick you don't actually know in a parking lot, by her car, is like super shady and probably the beginning of like a dozen horror stories."