"No matter your problems, face them with a bright smile and a bucket of chocolate ice-cream," nana once wisely told me. At the time, I was barely twelve and thought that I could summon a unicorn if I just believed in myself.
A decade later, despi...
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Mark's point of view
After an abominably silent walk across the streets of Oakmoor, we finally come to a stop near a wide café and choose the first table we spot. To my misfortune, the place is packed with obnoxiously chatty people, so trying to talk to Mea is going to be a real pain in the ass.
As if she knew that my interrogations were about to begin, she turns to her right and waves at the waitress who shows up almost instantly. Soon enough, the smile that once was displayed on her face turns into a slutty smirk, just as she's a couple of feet away from our table. Just as though she was about to dig her teeth in my flesh, the waitress stands to my right and eyes me intently. I stay still, however, because I have the feeling that my silence has already managed to piss Maeva off, and I'm not ready to have her nails plunged in my neck anytime soon.
Maeva definitely notices the blond scanning me thoroughly, but says nothing. She's strangely still, looking at the flowers placed in the center of the table. Suddenly, as if she stepped out of that dreamy world of hers, an eye roll escapes from her before she slams her hand on the table and almost drops the flower pot in the process.
"Miss, if you're done scrutinizing your prey... I'd love a black coffee."
A small "sure" is all the girl manages to mumble as she tries to rearrange the flowers that were messed up from the volcano of venom that just erupted.
"Make that two," I hurriedly add, in attempts of saving the girl's life from Maeva's claws. I bet she's thinking of an inventive way to disfigure her.
I cannot help but laugh at Maeva's clear jealousy. It is the very first time that I've actually seen her shooting daggers at any female showing interest in me. In the past, she would just roll her eyes, sigh or just leave when such a scene takes place. However, this time, it is clear to me that something has indeed changed in her. I can still feel hints of shyness as her cheeks are slightly turning peachy, but confidence is radiating from her which makes me question whether or not she's still the same person I've known for forever.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Never mind," she says, running her hand down the edge of the table. That was cold! And with all those people talking around us, I really doubt that my magic will even work on her. We need to be alone if I want to break the ice and get in her good grace again.
Taking a thorough look around, I find people talking even more vividly than they were when we first arrived. I spot the waitress who's only a couple of feet away, walking towards our table with a couple of white coffee mugs wobbling on a tiny tray. That's when I get up from my chair and reach for Mea's hand. Surprisingly, she ever so obediently follows me to the exit. No scratching, biting, shouting or whatsoever.
Well, that's a first.
From the way she's shadowing me, it seems that she doesn't mind us leaving. I'm about to push the door open when she shrieks at me:
