phan oneshots

restaurant

description: Dan goes out to eat and meets a handsome waiter
word count: 1712 words

Dan's POV

I walked briskly towards the door of the restaurant, an old brick building that fit in perfectly with the outdated homes nearby. It's said to be quite cozy inside, and have amazing food.

I pick up my pace, wrapping my jacket around my body as an attempt to shield myself from the harsh wind. Salty tears stung in my eyes from how forceful the cold air was blowing. Young trees were bending over, unable to resist against the power of Mother Nature. My toes were numb as I climbed the 3 steps leading to the door of the restaurant. I placed my already freezing hand on the ice cold handle of the door and instantly felt pain shoot up my pale arm. This is why I don't go outside.

I pulled the hefty door open just enough for me to slide through the space before it closed. Once I'd successfully done it, I felt a small sense of satisfaction at how I had glided through fluidly. But my victorious smile quickly faded as I felt the chilly air in the restaurant. Not as bad as the outdoors, but definitely not warm enough for my liking. Goosebumps remained present on my arms while I walked further into the room. My eyes scanned the the wooden tables with red tops and worn, splintery booths.

The walls were a mild red, though the paint was faded and peeling. Records and pictures were hung in a sad attempt to distract customers from the damage. I smiled to myself, I sort of liked the busted up look. It gave the place character, though it probably didn't get them much business.

There were only a few tables occupied, a tired mother with her two squealing children, and an old man with glasses perched on his the tip of his nose, squinting to try and read the menu. I contemplated walking over to help him out but was stopped when I heard a melodic voice.

"Good evening, table for 1?"

I turned around and met eyes with a tall young man, who looked around the age of 21 or so. His creamy alabaster skin reminded me of the marble countertops in my kitchen, and his black messy fringe reminded me of my own ruffled hair. But while mine was a dull brown, his was an elegant black, a beautiful hue that shined ever so slightly under the dim lights hanging from the ceiling. I watched as his alluring blue eyes crinkled in confusion and I realized I was staring.

"Uh yeah. Table for 1," I replied awkwardly.

He flashed a heart-stopping smirk as he led me to a booth in the very back of the restaurant. I sat down and looked up at his cheerful face, waiting patiently for him to say something.

"Here's your menu, Dan," He winked and I felt my face flush for no reason. He was just being polite.

Then I paused for a second, did I tell him my name? My anxiety quickly takes over my mind, as usual, erasing all of my rational thoughts. He's a stalker, my mind yells, or a serial killer! The handsome guy watches the obvious confusion and fear creep up on to my already flushed face. He then nods towards my name tag that I forgot to take off after work. I sigh in relief and watch him slyly smirk again before promptly holding out a menu.

I reached out to take the menu from him and our hands brushed against each other. I couldn't tell if I had done it intentionally or accidentally, but either way, I was glad it happened.

Fireworks erupted from my fingertips. My hand lingered for a moment, trying to savour the feeling I got from his soft touch, but all too soon he gently pulled away. Our eyes met for a moment and he quietly murmured "I'll be right back."