The Light in His Eyes [COMPLETED] [(Book 1)]

Chapter 21

          "Here you are. Enjoy," says the compelled man.

          "Thank you," I reply.

          I look over at Alex and say, "I can't believe you compelled him. You didn't even have a reservation in the first place. Did you?"

          "Nope. I sure didn't," he says, confidently.

          "You're such a manipulative ass," I chuckle, looking into his blue eyes.

          "Yet you agreed to go on this date," he replies.

          "Ha...touché," I say.

          I pick up the menu and my eyes instantly fall on the meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Knowing that I am going to eat my favorite meal tonight puts a huge smile on my face. A smile that Alex notices.

          "What?" he asks.

          "Nothing," I reply, slowly dropping my smile.

          "Tell me!" he shouts.

          It falls silent for a few seconds, but then he shockingly says, "Please?"

          I look at him with wide eyes and respond, saying, "They just have my favorite meal here. That's all."

          "What is it?" he asks.   

          "Meatloaf and mashed potatoes," I say.

          "Really? That's my favorite too. Small world," he replies.

          "Seriously? I have never met anyone that loves meatloaf," I chuckle.

          "Well, now you have," he replies.

          As he says this, his eyes turn green and the same orb light flashes behind them.

          The light in his eyes is just so...so...breathtaking.

          We are both, now, staring at each other intensely when our waiter suddenly appears at our table. We both tear our gazes away from one another and order our meal. Strangely enough, we order the EXACT same thing. Down to the drink AND dessert.

          While waiting for our food, we decide to learn more about each other.

          "So, do you play any sports?" I ask him.

          "I do. I play soccer. What about you? Any other sports other than soccer?" he asks.

          "I swim during the summer, but I've been playing soccer since I was 3," I state, proudly.

          "Ha. That's pretty cool. I've been playing since I was 4," he says.

          "HA! I've been playing longer than you," I say, smirking.

          "Hey now. Just 'cause you've been playing longer does not mean you're better than me," he says, with a smirk as well.

          "Woah. I never said I was better than you. You assumed that by yourself. I just simply stated a fact, which just happens to be that I've been playing soccer longer than you," I say.

          "You know what? I'm moving on from this argument, just to save you from the humiliation of losing it. Let's talk about something else," he says.

          "WHAT?! Seriously?! A). I would not have lost this argument. B). If anyone were to be humiliated, it would be you because you just like to argue. You would argue with a fucking wall if it could talk! And C). Any other topic we choose to talk about will also end in an argument," I say.