Asa Butterfield Imagines

Something New

I hummed to the tune of the music playing throughout the café. My hands were wrapped around a small mug of tea as I watched the live act play. It was a nice change from the busy city that we were situated in, where everything seemed to happen at once, and time was never savoured.

My hand moved from the mug, and I ran my warm hand over the cool cover of my sketchbook. Opening it, I looked over the small doodles that were sketched out on the cream coloured pages. Many of them had been drawn on the train on the way home from school, or from a night out when I'd adventure through the city with my friends. Littered throughout were a series of pictures that I had taken as well, taped messily to the pages with some scotch tape that I always kept in your backpack. Many of the pictures were of my friends, happily smiling for the camera in the most obscure of places.

I laughed to myself as my fingers grazed over a picture of the group of us in front of a McDonald's in the downtown core. It was the largest McDonald's that we'd ever been to, and it seemed like the perfect time to commemorate it. I couldn't deny the smile that rose to my face as I looked at the collection of smiling faces in the photo.

"Excuse me," a new voice said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I looked up, finding myself next to a young man, maybe my age standing by the seat beside me.

"Yes?" I asked, my hand almost immediately running over my work, covering the majority of it from sight.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, referencing the seat in front of me.

I shook my head, a small smile on my face. "Go ahead."

He sat down, his eyes trained on the act that was finishing.

I looked down at my sketchbook, glancing through the last couple of pages. I stopped, staring at the blank page in front of me. I glanced back up the man in front of me, picking up the pencil beside me. Maybe it was the way the light hit his face, or how the glare off his glasses added a bit of flare to him that many people in the café seemed to lack.

I began sketching the outline of his face, periodically glancing up at him. About 10 minutes into the drawing, I had gotten the majority of it done. I smiled at my work, proud that I could achieve something so nice.

"Did you get my good side?" he asked, breaking the silence that had lingered between the two of us.

Blood rushed to my face as I realised that I'd been caught. I quickly flipped the page, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Y/n," my friend, Jem, said loudly as he walked up behind me.

"Yeah?" I asked, my voice slightly shaky from embarrassment.

"My shift ends in 20 minutes, do you want anything to eat?" he asked, leaning on the table next to me.

I shook my head. "No thank you."

"Why are you being polite? You're never nice to me y/n," Jem chuckled, patting my back as I rolled my eyes.

I roughly brushed off his hand, and he laughed loudly.

"Did I say you could touch me?" I asked, glaring at him.

"Why can't I touch you?"

"Because always have something on your hands and it gets on my clothes all the time," I groaned.

I pulled on the collar of my cream cardigan, revealing a light purple mark on it.

"This wasn't here when I left home," I pointed out.

"You're so senile," he said, rolling his eyes. I glared at him, and he quickly scrambled to retract his sentence. "I-in a good way, I swear."

I cocked an eyebrow and he walked away, defeated. I chuckled to myself, as I looked back at my sketchbook and the empty page in front of me.

I closed the spiralbound book, quickly shoving it into my backpack that hung off the back of my chair.

"Do you always do that?"

I furrowed my eyes, looking at the young man.

"Hm?"

"Do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make guys go speechless," he said, leaning on the table. "When I saw you, I was speechless."

I shyly looked back at the table, colour rising to my cheeks again.

"I don't try to," I muttered, looking at my hands, which had started fidgeting like they normally did when I got flustered.

"But yet," he said, and I smiled. "I'm Asa, by the way. I don't think I introduced myself."

"It's nice to meet you, Asa," I smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, y/n," he said, smoothly; the complete opposite of what I was.

I awkwardly smiled at him, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Is drawing a hobby of yours?" he asked, fiddling with the end of a napkin on the table.

"A little bit," I shrugged. "I like taking pictures though, it captures the moment faster than drawing it out."

"That it does," he agreed. "That it does."

"Y/n!" Jem called, waving at me from the front door of the cafe. "They let me go earlier, let's go!"

"I'm sorry," I said, quickly stepping off of the tall stool, and carefully landing on the ground. "I've got to run. It was really nice meeting you, Asa."

"Wait," he called as I began walking away. "When can I see you again?"

"You want to see me again?"

"You seem interesting," he shrugged. "And you're kind of cute."

I blushed, reaching into my pocket and pulling out an old crumpled receipt from a purchase months ago. I scribbled down my phone number on the back and handed it to him.

"Text me, and we can arrange a time and place; face-to-face," I said, gripping my sleeves, nervously. A guy hadn't taken an interest in me for quite some time, and I have to admit; it was nerve-racking. Especially since the guy was pretty attractive himself. Tall, shaggy brown hair and vibrant eyes that you could get lost in for hours. He was extroverted and confident; everything that I'm not.

He smiled at me as I began to gravitate towards the door. I shyly waved before opening the door and ducking through the opening Jem followed suit.

"Who was that?" he asked as we began our trek back to his place.

"He's something new."

The way home, I smiled to myself, my thoughts trailing back to Asa every time. It was then that I knew, I had fallen deeply for someone I didn't even know, but he was different, and that drew me even closer.