Buried Alive By Love

9. Worlds Collide

Eve.

For some reason, knowing her name made my heart race. "What a beautiful name, just like the Bible. Nice to meet you, Eve."

"Yep, nice to meet you too, Ville." I forgot to let go of her hand and was probably making a fool of myself.

I was intrigued about her ascendency, and she explained me her mother descended from Russians and that her father was Japanese. "Interesting mix." I saw her blushing, I realized I was staring at her too much. Now that I was closer to her, I was admiring her features. She had lovely traces, her nose was sculpted by the gods, probably. Her red lips were full, and I knew it wasn't any make up trick. She was so pale I could never imagine she was from Brazil, a tropical country. Maybe she was a hermit just like me and didn't enjoy the sun much.

She was so beautiful. Her hair sometimes fell over her face and she hid behind it a bit, every time she moved it away, I could feel the scent of her perfume. I had to stop staring at her like a creep, she looked down at her cup. "Do you want me to get you another... What are you having?"

"A cappuccino, but don't worry, I can get it. Do you want anything?" I raised from my chair, and hurried to grab her something to drink. This way I could distract myself a bit, I was nervous and I was afraid she would leave. At least I could enjoy a conversation while she had one more cup of cappuccino.

She smiled sweetly at me when I handled her the cappuccino. I sat down in her table, I was so anxious I hit my knee on it. Damn Ville, could you be less clumsy?

I tried not to make small talk. She was telling about her French studies. I remembered some words Natalie taught me, but nothing useful. I was trying to think about funny I've learnt but my mind was blank, I just wanted to pay attention to her. She was easy going and pleasant, it was easy to talk to her, she smiled all the time, which made me feel more confident. Maybe I wasn't boring her. I laughed out loud when she said Finnish was the language of the devil. She was right. "If you need help with that..."

"I already have a touristic guide and now a Finnish teacher, it couldn't be better."

I felt my face burn, I was feeling really shy. My stomach was fluttering, I tried to be as natural as possible. I chuckled and asked to see her book. "What a wonderful thing. This edition is translated by Baudelaire, he's one of my favourites."

"Oh, really? Mine as well. I even have a tattoo."

I'm sure my eyes widened when she said it. "You've got to be kidding me. I have as well. Here, to show you I'm not making it up." I pulled my sleeve and showed her my right arm. "Look, young and silly Baudelaire."

"Oh, wow! This is beautiful, I liked it. This is Bukowski, and who's this?" She pointed to the unknown face. She almost touched my arm, but she retreated, a bit shy.

"This is Mukka, a Finnish poet. I like him a lot, well, I think that's obvious. What about yours, where is it? You have to prove me you really have it."

"Uh, it's near my ribs, here." She put a hand over her left rib and I felt my face burning, it was obvious she wouldn't show me. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She smiled shyly. "But that's such a funny coincidence."

"Yeah, a lovely one." I had to concentrate not to lost myself in her eyes. They were so lovely I caught myself sighing. Get a grip, Ville. "I'll try finding something about Mukka."

"I can recommend you some books, but it's a depressive reading."

"Oh, I'm used to it anyway. After all, Baudelaire."

"Yeah, right." I sipped my coffee and she made a comment about it. "Coffee in Brazil is very strong, that's the only thing I didn't like much here in Finland."