The Coffee Shop Date

So here goes… I’m going to post my first piece of writing to my blog! This came from a novel I started to write but then decided I didn’t like where it was going so I stopped writing it. I did like this part though and I think it goes well as a very short story, even though it may seem out of context in places as you don’t get as much of the characters’ backstories as you did when it was part of a novel. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling now, but any comments/ feedback will be greatly appreciated πŸ™‚

Oh and one more thing, my writing is only checked/edited by me so I’m sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes (although hopefully there are none).

“You know I still don’t know your name,” I said to the stranger as he placed two steaming mugs of frothy cappuccino down onto the table. We had met for the first time three weeks ago in the elevator of our shared building when I had just moved into my new apartment. Since then we had bumped into each other almost daily, exchanging flirty looks and suggestive, albeit very brief, conversations, until finally he asked me out on a date.
“No you don’t, but I don’t know yours either,” he said with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye.
“Well you seem to think you know me so well anyway so you should already know my name.” There was always an air of arrogance surrounding him whenever he spoke to me, and he always seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. That arrogance had seemed to fade ever so slightly today. He laughed, a soft, shy sort of laugh. “I’m not that good, but I’m guessing it’s something pretty to match the rest of you.” I felt my cheeks go red, I don’t remember ever being called pretty by anyone who wasn’t part of my family. “Th-thank you,” I said and gave him a friendly smile “actually, you are sort of right, I’m named after a flower and flowers are pretty I guess.”
“Yes they are. Let me guess, you’re a poppy? No wait, you’re a Lily aren’t you?”
“I am a Lily well done,” I giggled, “your turn, what’s your name?”
“Guess,” was all he said.
“Aren’t you at least going to give me a clue?”
“Nope,” he said with a laugh.
I looked around the cafe we were sitting in as if looking for inspiration to guess his name. The lighting was dim but it made the place feel cosy. On the red walls hung large pictures of different seaside scenes, some of the sunset over the sea, some of a beach at sunrise. I watched some of the other people sitting at other tables, many of them were couples, who were stealing an hour alone together on their lunch-breaks. There was a group of young girls laughing away in the corner and two businessmen sat by the window typing away on their laptops, each ignoring the others’ presence at the table. I looked back at the stranger and I properly looked at him for the first time since we met. I noticed how perfectly defined his cheekbones were and the thin layer of stubble that covered them. I noticed how he had obviously spent a bit of time in front of the mirror that morning making his hair look effortlessly messy, and I noticed how his light blue eyes, framed perfectly by his eyelashes, sparkled as he gazed back at me. He was beautiful. “You’re a Jack, aren’t you?” I said suddenly. Jack tilted his head to the side in both surprise and amusement that I had guessed correctly on my first attempt. “Well done,” he said, “what gave it away?”
“I don’t know really, you just look like a Jack.” He looked like a rugged bad boy type with a soft heart- the complete clichΓ© of a guy named Jack- but of course, I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“That’s because I am,” he held out his hand for me to shake as if we were meeting for the first time, “Jack Ramsay, nice to meet you.”
I humoured him and shook his hand. “Lily Shaw, nice to meet you too.” We both gave each other broad smiles before letting go. I reached for my coffee and took the first sip, never letting my eyes leave his.



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