Fly Away

09 - entertaining delusions

She doesn't seem to realise, and instead rolls her eyes, pressing something on the screen before pulling her wallet out of her bag.

I'm quicker, and swipe at the card machine with my card before she has the chance.

"Hey I-"

I send her a look, and she doesn't say anything else as she grabs the receipt and stalks over to an empty table near the window. 

I follow her, stopping short at the sight of the bench in front of me, covered in old crusty chips.

I am not sitting there.

"Sit." She pats the seat next to her, clearly aware of the mess on the other bench, and I hesitantly seat myself. My knees touch the underside of the table, and I refrain from feeling sick all over the place.

Instead, I angle them away but they end up hitting her knees.

She doesn't seem phased, because she's too busy trying to look out for her number on the board, waiting for her food to come. 

I however, can feel every electric spark of heat, and every nerve ending in my body.

It makes me want to-

I don't know.

We don't talk as we wait, and it's a comfortable silence that settles over us. It's somewhat enjoyable, and I try to avert my eyes from her face, but I can't help it, especially when she's looking away from me.

I watch as she bites the corner of her lip in concentration, the rosiness making them look full. Her eyes are quite unlike anything I've ever really seen before. There are different shades of blues that intertwine and mix together to form a colour deeper than the ocean. They are a relatively large, almond shape, and her eyebrows sit, fluffed and full. 

I hear a number being called, and then she's up and squeezing behind me and the bench behind us. I feel her lower stomach brush against my back, and suck in a breath at the proximity.

This should not be happening. 

I watch as she walks over to the counter, her leg's-

No.

Just-

No.

I turn away from her figure, and instead look out of the window, watching the cars pass by and people mill about outside the shop with milkshakes in their hands.

My stomach growls.

Maybe I should have gotten something to eat after all.

I hear footsteps behind me, and then feel the press of Mia's body against mine as she tries to get into her seat.

She huffs out a breath, completely unbothered, and places the bag in front of us, pulling out its contents.

She shoves a box and a bah of fries in front of me and pulls out her own, doing the same with two cokes.

I look at her, my eyebrows raised.

"I said I wasn't-"

"just eat, Rocky. I can literally see the hunger on your face. Plus your stomach was rumbling on the way here." She takes a bite out of her burger and shoves a few chips in her mouth at the same time, right before chugging a few sips of her coke down.

She groans out, shaking her shoulders in delight as she eats, and I watch her. I really can't seem to stop, and i think it's becoming a problem.

She looks at me then, and gestures to my food. "Eat."

I pick up a chip and take a bite, my senses suddenly flooded by the saltiness. 

I take more and end up devouring both my chips and burger within five minutes.

It seems I'm not as quick as some people, because Mia is sitting, slumped against the window, sipping on her coke as she watches me.

"Don't worry, I won't patronise you for losing." She shrugs and closes her eyes as she continues to sip at her coke. 

I nearly laugh.

But I don't.

"I wasn't aware it was a race." I reply to her, my eyebrows rising. I take in her content face, her closed eyes, her long lashes that brush against her upper cheeks.

There's a soft pink tint coating her cheeks, probably from the breeze that just blew in from the open door a few seconds ago. 

She opens her eye and smiles small at me.

"Well, consider yourself defeated." 

I decide to entertain her delusions.

"I admit defeat." I keep my face neutral, watching as her eyes crinkle up as a laugh escapes from her mouth. 

It's such a stunning sound, and I almost lose myself in the sound, but her voice brings me back.

"Okay, I'm getting tired now, and you're squishing me against this window." She shifts before standing up, and gathering leaving her rubbish on the table.

I stare down at the mess, and then it's as if my hands are in robot mode.

I gather up the empty boxes and drinks and shove them all into the bag before walking over to the bin and disposing of the rubbish.

She's staring at me like I've just done something illegal.

"You are a psycho. No wonder your house is so clean, neat freak." She continues to ramble on about how I could have just left the rubbish there, and about how we're the complete opposites because she basically doesn't know how to tidy up because of how lazy she is.

I listen to her, enjoying the sound of her voice in my ears, letting my anger from earlier dissipate.

GUYS, is it bad that I'm so stupidly obsessed with this book? I literally think about it all day, coming up with scenarios and ideas to write. UGH I love it.

Also, Ive nearly finished the Shatter Me series and I have no words except for how much I want Aaron Warner to rail me-

Ok.

Love you, simps.