The faint glow of the moon glisten through the drapes over his tanned skin, daring me to awaken all the forbidden desires I kept buried in my thoughts.
"Use me," He whimpers as my knees stoop to the floor,
❝... I am rightfully and solely yours, Aa...
A book harshly slammed on my table, fully scaring the shit out of me. "What. the. fuck." The phrase reflectively blew from my lips as my eyes ease up for confirmation on whoever this rude individual was.
Tate?
"Why the fuck did you tell Mrs. Shaffer we didn't work on the project together," Tate quietly shouted as he finally realized we're in the damn library.
How rude, right?
"Because..," I quirked my head to the side. "We didn't."
"If you weren't such an ass, I wouldn't have to 'tattle' on you. I am not going to throw my grade into the drain for.. you," My eyes scanned his body in complete annoyance.
"I don't have time for this," He emphasized the last word as if my response was in disregard of an actual reasoning.
"Meet me at Yasha's Café after lights out or don't bother telling Mrs. Shaffer that I was 'ignoring you'," He quoted me with his fingers as if I am a child.
I loathe him.
No, I despise him.
"Ugh fine, but where is—" Before I can even ask where this place was, he walks away.
Finalizing that my presence wasn't even a second thought to him anymore.
Such an asshole.
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I end up asking Rebi in the hallway between classes of this particular café. She told me it wasn't no further than a block away from the school.
Bingo.
Take that, Tate!
After completing a few homework assignments, I figured it was best to starve myself until I sat down at the restaurant. I have this weird obsession with restraining rewards from myself so it can encourage me to finish a task. I practically convinced myself one time if I finished vacuuming my room, I could finally release the pee I was holding.
I wonder if that's a trauma response?
Another overthink thought for another day.
Putting on my black jacket over my blue jeans, I headed over to the café with my Apple Maps guiding the way. In the United States, I would be wary to walk the trash to the dumpster or let a lone walk the streets at night, but here I felt safe. Enriched in tranquility.
Before I knew it, I saw the shiny golden letters of 'Yasha's Café' scorching the lens of my eyes, confirming my destination. Opening the singular glass door, I fell in love with how simple and vintage this café felt. With the mini brown booths to the colorful jukebox in the corner, you can embrace the intimacy this place grants you. It felt like a soul resting from a long day of searching, like the soft feeling of the sun touching your skin after days of rain.
