granted. // (grant gustin fan fic)

Jukebox

The next day, Grant and I met up for lunch to begin our day together. He had managed to find this cool retro diner with 60's decor, pink walls, checkered tiles and a mirror backsplash. Their bar featured root beer floats and milkshakes with a cherry on top for two. I found him there sitting in a booth, tapping away on his phone and eyeglasses perched on his nose. His hair was styled in its usual way with the front spiked up.

I stopped for a moment to take it all in-- his furrowed brows in concentration, the light stubble that was beginning to grow in, and the way that he kept pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose after they'd slide down. I must have watched him for more than a moment because he casually looked up from his phone. His eyes scanned the place until they found mine. The smiled at the edges along with his mouth as he gave me a wave. I returned the gesture and walked over to his table, plopping down on the bench across from him.

"Hey," I started.

"Hi, how are you?" He watched me as I pulled my outer coat off and placed on the bench beside me.

"I'm good. How about you? How was your night? How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty solid though I forgot how loud the city can be even at night," he started. "Not to mention cold too."

"Colder than Canada? No way," I replied.

"Oh, yeah," Grant nodded with slightly pouted lips and furrowed eyebrows. "It's a different kind of cold though. Like, Canada is cold but here is a lonely cold that's worse." He explained.

"Ah," I exhaled and took in what he said. I didn't want him to have any more lonely nights but I wouldn't dare mention it.

"So, have you decided what you wanted? You go up to the bar and order when you're ready and then someone brings it out," Grant explained.

"Yeah, but I'll go," I started. "I want to check out the jukebox." I said, nodding my head in the direction of the music machine as I grabbed my purse to dig out a quarter.

"Cool, then can you order a Classic burger with sweet potato fries for me please?"

"Cool, anything else?"

"No pickles?"

"Got it," I said as a bashful smile creeped across my face. I didn't particularly care for pickles on my burgers either.

I went up to the bar and placed our order. I had decided on a mushroom and Swiss burger but with regular fries. I immediately had second thoughts the moment I placed the order but decided against changing my mind. That's totally not a thing-- I have nothing to worry about. Yeah, it's different when you're not physically seeing someone but it's not like Grant had feelings for me or anything like that so it didn't matter that I didn't order a salad with a diet water and a side of air. Well, wait, maybe it did? Maybe if I just looked different, he would like me. No, stop it, you're being mean to yourself. If he actually likes you, he'll like you regardless of what you look like and if he doesn't, don't make excuses for him-- you're worth more than that.

Just that quickly I had managed to get caught in my head space and overanalyzing. Things were so different when we just texted and I didn't have to physically see Grant and acknowledge that he is real and in front of me and an actual thing in my life. I just returned to the booth and slid in across the table.

"So what song?" Grant piped up.

"Huh?"

"What song did you pick?" He tried again.

"Oh! Uh, I forgot. You go pick," I suggested as I tried to get back to reality.  I dug the quarter out of my pocket and put it on the table and slid it across to Grant.

"Hmm," he said as he tapped the table and looked at me with a scrunched up face. "I have to find the perfect song."

I took in his face for a moment. He wore a boyish grin and smiled with his eyes. They held a story though and there was way more to Grant than he let on at any given moment. There was a reason for his secrecy, for not telling me that he's this famous actor who wins over hearts and minds as Barry Allen and The Flash. Grant was never going to open up to me until he was ready and his eyes told me that: cautious and careful, yet kind and loving with no trace of resentment. He was one of the good people, who saw a lot, done a lot, and been through a lot while still staying true to himself and being optimistic. I caught a glimpse of his soul that day as he went up to put a coin in the free standing jukebox along the diner's back wall.

He was really adamant about finding the perfect song because the food had arrived while he still flipped through the book to find a worthy song. It seemed like it took forever, but maybe that was because I was waiting for his return before I started eating. I watched him for awhile as he pored over that jukebox, hand on the wall pressing his weight into it and looking down at his option. I thought I maybe saw him bring his hand up to his mouth once or twice as if he were biting a nail. I almost went up to see what was taking him so long in choosing but he eventually turned around with a look of disappointment and stalked back to the table.

"I couldn't find anything good," he plopped down across from me with a small pout and a sullen look. "Wait, did you wait for me to get back before you started eating?"

"Yeah," I shrugged and nodded as I picked up a french fry before putting it in my mouth.

"Oh, babe, you didn't have to do that," Grant said nonchalantly, before casually taking a sip of water from the glass that was brought out upon our arrival to the diner before beginning his meal. Everything he said, including 'babe'--especially 'babe'-- just rolled off his tongue and sounded so perfect and like I could get used to it.

Granted, I wanted that to be something I got used to.