A/N: Enjoying, than leave a comment, or follow me on my Tumblr (https://writtenstuffandthings.tumblr.com/)
I hear the now familiar squeal of my brakes as I come to a halt after expertly guiding myself into my driveway. I grab my bag from the handle of my bike and begin to walk the vehicle to my side door. I shasé through the door, eager to unpack my newly acquired treasure. I gently slide the leather-covered book from the contrasting traditional plastic bag. I can't help but run my hand across the smooth cover and the metal intricacies of the binding. I curl the tips of my fingers under the front cover and slowly lift it as if there is something more precious than a simple picture under it.
I don't know why this specific encounter felt so foreign. It's not like I hadn't hit on people before, typically women for the media's sake. I wonder what they would do if they found out I was gay, America's biggest bachelor becomes America's biggest flamer.
Yeah, no thanks.
I'm recentered on reality as I realize I've been staring at our vintage selfie for an uncomfortable amount of time. I just couldn't help but feel some sort of connection to this little shopkeeper. In retrospect, it's ridiculous, I had known him for all of two and a half seconds. Yet I felt himself sinking into every pore of my being, absorbing every single thought that crossed my mind.
This is gonna be a problem.
I wonder if I came on too strong? Let's hope not, I would hate to ruin whatever happened.
He's probably straight.
Shit, I mentally facepalm as I realize that if he did eventually recognize me how much this could ruin me. I'm going to die.
Buzz
I reflexively grab my phone from my pocket.
Text from an unknown number.
Hey, it's Jamie
Holy shit, what do I say? I feel my hands shake with the beginning of jitters
Wow, role reversal.
I feel my fingers type a, "Hey, sorry if I came on too strong," before backspacing until I had, "Hey."
Hey, really Malic? God, I'm such an id-
Buzz
So obviously I got your message, uh...
HOW DO I RESPOND TO THAT.
Buzz
I'm a bit confused on whether that was a friendly pick-up message or a romantic one.
My fingers fly into autopilot as they force a, "It's whatever you want it to be."
That was cheesy, how do the magazines even pretend that I'm smooth. Why is my heart beating so fast, I can hardly breath. No, calm down Malic, you can do this.
Buzz
Well, what do you want it to be?
Shit. Should I be frank about it and just say, "Yeah, can I put my face on your's?" No, that's way too creepy, how about, "I would like to marry you but hey no big deal." Definitely no. Oh, I know, "I'd like to have lots of babies with you." What the fuck. Goddammit, Malic can you not be creepy for four and a half seconds.
Okay, I got it for sure this time.
"I would like to go out sometime."
...
Yeah, I would too.
...
I fight the urge to jump into the air and scream. I talk a deep breath, frame the text in the center of the phone screen, and
Screenshot
YOU ARE READING
Scrapbook
Romance"No, no," he says, "The scrapbook is on the house, it's my pleasure to help make stories." My jaw hits the floor, "Nope, I'm paying for it, how much is it." "There is no price cause it's free," he says with a smirk clearly thinking he's won. "Fine,"...
