HIS FAVORITE GINGER ✓

EIGHT.

GRAYSON'S WATCH TELLS HIM IT is five minutes early. Breathing a sigh of relief, he glances around the restaurant only to be more relieved. Last thing he wants is to be late yet again. The previous verbal thrashing was good enough. Alejandro is a guy with fire, he'll give him that. And that makes him even more intriguing.

The typical McDonald's smell dances round the restaurant as the big, yellow M shoots him glares wherever he sets his eyes upon. Businessmen and women, senior citizens, teenagers, kids, builders, every type of people bustled and chattered here and there. This place is way better than his ol' rusty Burger Slave. He personally chose this place because of Mariah. As he makes his way to his seat, he feels voracious eyes bore vortexes in his back. He turns to see some pack of bimbos gazing at him so confidently, as if they have some hypnotic power over him or they are those mythological sirens that devour men with beauty. Unfortunately for them, he is not only coming here to get lunch but he is also someone else's lunch today.

He watches as a blonde - the fake blond is as clear as ink in water - waitress with hourglass curves saunters to his seat. Grayson must have bled his lips upon biting in lust. He's totally forgotten about why he's really here.

"What can I get you?"

How about you get me some you? *winks*

"A very chilled Pepsi would be lovely for my throat right now." Grayson says, tapping his index finger on his bald chin, "Considering my throat was dryer than a motherfucker. Fish McBites and two Big Macs too."

"Will that be all?"

Who is Alejandro? Fuck him, he's struck gold! Grayson's mouth opens to draw a hat trick from his well of legendary but he's cut short.

"Two chicken burgers, a fajita and an arctic orange milkshake."

Grayson mentally cranes his neck into Alejandro's body. The latter wears a violet checkered sweater and blue skinny jeans with his usual smug but blank face. His tangerine hair is fastened high, three stray ringlets dangle down his face. Those simple things seem to convince Grayson further that Alejandro is really a mortal Apollo. With striking nonchalance, Alejandro flops his body into the seat and his leg on the table - showing off exotic Fenty Pumas - like its his couch at home. Grayson finds himself wishing the seat is his laps and the table his shoulder.

"You heard him."

The waitress nods before plunging them both into a pool of unbearably awkward silence that lasted only thirty seconds. Grayson has to get a hold of himself. He has done this uncountable number of times and now he's a statue. After all, he is the one who cleverly organized today as a way of getting to know Alejandro better. Grayson is lost in the ginger's breathtaking maroon eyes that he doesn't realize his name is being called.

"Grayson!"

He blinks back into reality. "Sorry sorry. I guess I just zoned out, ya know." He is struggling to think of anything other than saying "I was lost in the beauty of those embers of the setting sun you call eyes." It will be creepy as hell but then again, he's just saying the truth. Alejandro's eyes are bewitching.

"Yeah, you did. Just don't forget we agreed that this date will be strictly platonic. You have a girlfriend, I have a head to keep and I am here for the free food."

"Of course." Grayson smiles, knowing that it is way beyond that on his side. "This is a way to make up for coming late for the project."