My alarm goes off once again and I raise my head groggily to check the time. When I look at my phone, I see that it is 8:30.
"Shit, shit, fuck," I mutter to myself as I scramble out of bed and tear through my closet trying to find an outfit to wear.
I'm going to be late for work. Again. My boss keeps warning me that if I keep coming in late, I might as well not come in at all. While that sounds like a dream considering how much I hate my coworkers, that's not exactly practical. New York City rent is far from cheap.
After throwing on a decent outfit and quickly brushing my teeth, I grab my bag and keys and head out of my apartment.
I bolt down the street and go to the nearest subway stop. I slide my metro card through the slot and push through the turnstile. I run through the dense crowd to try and make it onto the subway stopped at the platform, but rush hour seems to have other plans. The doors to the packed subway slide shut and the train speeds off, leaving me on the crowded platform and blowing my already messy hair around.
"Great," I mumble, checking the time again. 9:08. 8 minutes late so far. Can't wait to hear what my boss has to say this time.
"Excuse me, I think your sweater is inside out?" I hear a voice say from next to me. I assume the guy isn't talking to me so I just ignore him and impatiently tap my feet as I peer down the tunnel looking for the next train.
A moment later, someone taps my shoulder. I look over with a scowl on my face, but my features quickly soften when I see who is next to me. An incredibly handsome boy with chocolate brown curls, a jawline sharper than a knife, and the most enchanting blue eyes I've ever seen stares back at me.
"I-I'm sorry, what did you say?" I stutter.
"I said that I think your sweater is on backwards," the boy says, pointing to my clothes. When I look down, sure enough I see that I am wearing my sweater the wrong way.
"Oh. Um, thank you for letting me know," I say nervously. It seems I've forgotten how to act around men, especially cute ones.
"No problem. Thanks for not biting my face off," the boy says with a little chuckle. I look at him with a confused face. "Oh, it's just that when I tapped you on the shoulder you looked like you were about ready to kill me."
"Oh. Right, that. Sorry about that. I'm running late for work again and I'm about to get an earful from my boss. Plus I didn't get to stop for my usual cup of coffee, so I'm pretty cranky about that too," I explain.
"Ah, I see. Well I can solve one of those problems," the boy says, handing me a warm styrofoam cup of coffee. I didn't even realize he was holding it.
"Oh, please. Take this back. As much as I love my coffee, I can't take anyone else's, especially a strangers."
"We don't have to be strangers for long. Hi, I'm Timothée," the boy says as he sticks his hand out for me to shake. I take it gingerly and eye his expression as we shake hands.
"Hi Timothée. I'm Y/N."
"Nice to meet you, Y/N."
"Likewise..."
"You still seem hesitant."
"I am. You're too friendly to be a New Yorker."
"I could say the same about you," the boy says with a smirk.
I extend my hand and try to give the boy his coffee back. "Well Timothée, I really appreciate this incredibly kind gesture, but I can't accept this coffee. As good as it smells, I'm wary of accepting drinks from strangers. Or, since we aren't strangers anymore, from very new friends."
"You sure?" Timothée asks. "I promise it isn't spiked or anything. I'm not that kind of guy.
"I'm sure you aren't," I say. "But a girls gotta be safe."
"Alright. I get it. But hey, I'd love to take you to get your own cup of coffee sometime," Timothée says with a charming smile and a wink.
"Ah, you smooth, smooth man," I say with a giggle. "I'd love to get a cup of coffee with you."
"Great." Timothée pulls out a pen from his bag and scribbles something onto the napkin he is holding against his coffee cup. After a moment, he hands it to me. His name and phone number are scrawled across the napkin with a little smiley face in the corner.
Just then another train pulls up to the platform. The doors open and a flood of people pour out.
"Can't wait for the coffee, Y/N," Timothée says, flashing a handsome smile at me before sneaking onto the train. I'm too stunned by the whirlwind experience I just had that I don't even register that I also need to get on the train. Before I can, though, the doors close and I am once again left on the platform.
This time, however, I'm not as mad, even though I know I'll be even later to work. I don't care how much my boss yells at me though, because I know the only thing on my mind will be the beautiful stranger I met on the subway.
***
hi! kinda quick, but i like it! what do you think?
requests are still closed, but i am planning on reopening them sometime in the next few weeks. thx for being so patient!
also, sorry i haven't been updating very often! i'm supposed to be graduating high school this week but coronavirus kinda ruined that, and i lost all my senior activities, so i've just been in my feels abt that, nbd. i'll try to be more active, but i can't make any promises! thank u for understanding!
hope you're all doing well and are healthy!
much love, lyra <3
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