Facade [h.s]

six

The next couple of days went by quite quickly and with no random apparition of a certain tall young man with messy hair and nail polish - which I couldn't help but be glad about.

That night was a tiring one. I'd come to terms with it as soon as I'd been notified upon entering the restaurant that we had three parties going on at the same time, but I still found myself wanting to disappear by the time my shift started coming to an end.

I sighed as I put the notepad down and exited the restaurant from the back door, needing to leave the crowded space for a while to regain control of my senses, deciding that the other waiters could've survived without me for a few minutes.

At times working at a restaurant could be quite stressing, especially towards the end of the night, when all the parties were coming to an end and growing impossibly louder fuelled by wine and good mood, and the rest of the people raised their voice to be heard over the cheering ones. I often ended up needing to go outside for a couple of minutes, take a deep breath and relax a bit before going back inside.

But of course, it would've been unrealistic of me to think I could've had a little break on my own without being interrupted.

I furrowed my eyebrows as soon as I realised I wasn't alone, and that someone was leaning against the wall some feet away from me. It might've been the smoke from the cigarette he was holding, or his height, or the flash of light that hit his nose ring as I closed the door, but it didn't take me long to recognise who it was. I stared at him from where I was standing, but I couldn't tell why. There was something of so interesting, almost magnetic, in him, that seemed to attract me more and more the longer the time passed.

He completely ignored me, and I wasn't even sure if he was aware of my presence out there with him. I furrowed my eyebrows, staring at the way his heart-shaped lips wrapped around the stick as he took a drag, their delicacy such a strong contrast to his action. He was staring at the dark street ahead, thoughts passing through his mind signalled by the slight frown that overtook his angelic features at times. He closed his eyes as he exhaled, the golden illumination of the streetlights projecting the shadow of his long eyelashes on his cheekbones as he leant his head back.

I shook my head when I realised how transfixed I was by his actions and cleared my throat, hesitantly taking a step towards him but not saying a word.

He turned his head towards me at the sound, recognition flashing through his darkened irises as he took in my figure. "Hey, thunderstorm" he said quietly, his usual annoying playfulness absent, making his voice sound much deeper.

I rolled my eyes at his words. "Why do you always happen to be wherever I am?" I asked him, deciding that I could've addressed the matter of the nickname later. "Are you stalking me or something?"

"Au contraire, I'm quite sure you're the one stalking me" he replied, going back to staring ahead, making me feel as if the time he'd allowed me had ended.

I let out an ironic laugh. "Very funny" I commented nearing him, not having any intention of going back inside so soon. "What are you doing here, if you aren't stalking me?"

He glanced at me again. "The way you think the world revolves around you is quite endearing" he said. "I'm waiting for a friend" he added, and I nodded, not sure if I should've believed him or not. "Now, what are you doing here, if you aren't stalking me?"