Ecstasy of Love

Chapter 3: Agelast

Josephine's POV

When I enter the coffeehouse, the first thing I notice is the line of students waiting to order. It doesn't lessen my decision to still get a cup of coffee, though. I pretty much need it if I want to stay awake for the rest of my day, and also try to lighten my mood after that jackass of a professor.

I always prefer coming to this coffeehouse rather than the one located closer to my dorm building because fewer people come here. The ambiance is much quieter, and from the parking lot, you can see the SoCal sky without it being blocked by the school's tall buildings.

As I fall in line, my heart skips a beat when a louder voice pierces the space and I feel it wrap around my body once again. That voice. "Whatever." He huffs. "It's not as if some spreadsheets formulas shit applies to become a lawyer" It's the second time in the day I hear his -I recognize now- British accent when I never had listened to him before.

And I don't know why, but I wonder what's his version of life that made him determine life is shitty. Deciding to appease my curiosity, I inaudibly turn around, observing the table where he's seated with three other guys. "Yeah, because you'll be busy in another kind of sheets." Another British accent responds, snickering at his side. Did that guy just meant-

"Shut the fuck up," he growls in response. Something in his posture, in his voice, makes his presence stand out from the rest people in the room. Somewhat like a shadow in the place of a boy, an obscure look in his eyes. "Stop with that bullshit again, Mason," he tells -who I assume is- his friend.

"Man, don't get all sulky. We just want you to remind yourself that we're still young." That comes from the third British accent, seating in front of him.

"It certainly doesn't feel that way anymore," he mumbles. And I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out that last thing he said. I rake my mind through the endless possibilities of its meaning. Maybe he meant he'd grown up too soon. We all do at some point.

"Yeah, that's because you stopped living a long time ago. California was supposed to help you get your life back. It's been over once a month and you've done no progress yet." Mason-I think- responds.

"Stop fucking pushing my boundaries!" He grits out. "I never agreed to that plan. California was for a change of scenery, and that was it. I'm fine." He tugs at his hair, frustrated. His voice is almost as tortured as his expression.

"FT, open your eyes! Is this really living?" His other friend signals to the spreadsheets on the table.

FT? That's what they call him?

He stays quiet for a moment. His features hardening before his voice turns low and deadly, which lets me know he isn't talking to his friends anymore. "I don't appreciate other people minding my business, either." My eyes widen, startled, and I try facing the person in front of me before he catches me, but it's too late. He flickers his eyes at me, just as I figured out he was talking about me.

His icy voice and those eyes pierced again on me, inflame my gut with nervousness. Just then I note how openly I had been watching them. I probably look like a freak.

The not-so-pleasant icy burn of his eyes makes my skin blossom into goosebumps as he stands up from his seat and strides effortlessly towards me in a matter of seconds, given that his table is just a few feet apart from the waiting line.

My breathing stops when I realize how close he is to me again, less than a foot away. If I reach out with my arm, I could touch him. And why the fuck would I want that? It's in moments like this that loneliness takes over my mind.

My skin crawls, my mask of fierceness faltering, but I don't want to show him how much he's affecting me, and the worst part is I don't even know why. An odd feeling washes over me.