Confiding

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**WHO'S EXCITED FOR AN EARLY 8 PAGE UPDATE??? Das right, i love you guys a lot so here's my appreciation for all of you. You're getting a lil' Poppy action bc I love her and miss her and it's important to the plot :-). ALSO, to correctly get the feel for the scene, the diner is set up a lot like the one Sam worked in, in A Cinderella Story!**

Troy's POV

I sat across from Aurora, watching as she picked up the one of the menus - which were always stationed at the table - completely disregarding the stickiness of the labeled paper and as well as the griminess of the booth. This is one of the things I loved about her the most; her innate ability to be totally comfortable in any setting, and the fact that she never really asked for much. She didn't expect fancy dinners whose dishes were written in another language, she didn't care that I drove a brand new truck, and it took her an entire hour to quit refusing my gift of the latest Lilly Pulitzer dress I'd ordered her online. She could give a rats ass about anything materialistic for that matter. She thrived on affection. Simple, intimate touches that let her know you were there; that let her know she wasn't alone, that she was cared for.

She didn't think I noticed, but I did. I noticed every little thing about her. She intrigued me in ways I couldn't explain because even I didn't really understand them myself. What I did know, though, was that I would never get tired of her. Not in a million years, she's the only woman I'd want for the rest of my life.

She'd been awfully quiet ever since we snuck out of my house this morning – understandably so. I knew that with the situation we were currently in, talk was cheap. So, instead, I settled for handholding and kisses on the knuckles of her hands every now and then. I could tell she was thankful for my lack of words while allowing her fully process her thoughts; her eyes were the most expressive I've ever seen.

"This place reminds me of where I work close to campus." She murmured, finally breaking her spell of silence.

Glancing around the quaint diner, a warm feeling of belonging settled in my heart. My parents had been bringing my siblings and I around to this diner since before I can even remember. It still looked the same as it always had. I didn't know what I was expecting, really. It's not like me going to college was going to change anything. Life would go on no matter where I decided to call home.

The walls were painted a light shade of cream, which had turned to an unflattering hue of yellow over the years and was chipping in more places than one. Every single chair and booth had giant cracked gashes in the faded red leather from overuse, and the tables were perpetually sticky, similar to the menus. The pictures that hung from every wall were either out-of-date ads or pictures of girls from the 50's with their large, puffy skirts. A lot of customers complained that it just looked run down, but I thought it gave the place character.

A jukebox resided in the way back of the restaurant nudged up against a rack of newspapers and ad circulars, but it still managed to circulate the quiet lull of a few good oldies through the little dining space. The owners of the place had remained the same since the joint opened up way back in the day – despite their children's best efforts to get them to retire and turn the business over to them.

"Troy Carmichael, is that really you?" I heard the all too familiar dainty voice call out to me from behind the counter of the bar-style area. Glancing to my right, I met eyes with Mrs. Myrtle – one of the sweetest old ladies you'd ever met in your life. I smiled from ear to ear as I watched her flip the countertop back and meander her way over to where I was seated. Though she'd had three hip replacement surgeries and one major knee reconstruction, she still managed to get around pretty good. Especially considering her age.

"My, my. It is you! Your daddy said you was off at college when he'd come in the other night. Not by hisself of course." She said, accompanied with a playful eye roll. "I swear that boy never gives your Mama a minute of alone time. He's always dotin' on her!" She said with a fragile laugh, followed by a slight cough. I laughed in reply before taking the hand she'd extended out to me, loving the way she patted the top of my hand affectionately.

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