Simple Words

Day 1: Your Favorite Song

Monday January 13th, 3 PM

I stormed into the warm coffee shop, angrily throwing the door open. A few eyes turn towards me as the bell on the door jingles, signaling my entry. Droplets of water dripped off of me, soaking the floor of the Starbucks. My wet tights hugged my skin uncomfortably and a low moan escaped my lips. It just wasn't my day. I originally figured I'd stop in for a cup of coffee to cheer myself up, but today even the store seems gloomy. The smell of burnt coffee invades my senses and I crinkle my nose. My scarlet kick-pleat skirt was drenched and instead of falling gently against my thighs, it stuck. I pulled off my black peacoat and let it hang over my arm carelessly.

My black pumps click rhythmically against the linoleum wood floor as I walk to the register, but the beat is interrupted as a body barrels into me, knocking me onto the hard floor. Ouch. Stars clutter my vision as I try to gain back my equilibrium. Every eye in the cafe is turned towards me, sitting on my butt with my purse and all it's contents sprawled across the floor. Great, I'm the star of the show. A sharp pain shoots through my tailbone, aching from the force of the blow, only adding to the fact that I'm already livid. Tears form in my sea blue eyes, but I hold them back.

I snap my head up abruptly, ready to tell off whoever just made my day even worse, but my own eyes lock with a pair that practically make me lose my train of thought. They're a stunning green, with flecks of blue painted throughout them, and I can't help but stare. The boy's eyes stare right back into mine, glassy. I finally break away from his eyes, forcing myself to absorb the rest of his appearance. His brown hair cascades in flowing curls that frame his chiseled features. He's gorgeous and I can barely peel my eyes away. I look him up and down, my eyes passing over his grey peacoat, scarf, skinny jeans, and Chuck Taylor's. I'm able to convince myself to actually have a normal conversation with him and the syllables begin to spill out of my mouth as I stumble over them.

"I-I-I-" I stutter, not knowing what to say.

"I'm so sorry," he says, sounding sincere. I'm taken aback by the sound of his deep and slow voice, but I can't deny the fact that it's extremely attractive. He gets to his feet and holds out a hand to help me up and I'm about to thank him, but I remember that I'm supposed to be angry.

"Watch where you're going," I hear myself spit back at him. Ouch, that was a bit harsh. He runs a hand through his hair, smoothly sweeping it to the left just before bending down to help me gather my things off the floor. He doesn't say anything indicating he was offended by my rude display, which makes me feel a bit better.

"I really am sorry. Are you alright?" he says, staring into me with those eyes again. I don't even think I could possibly be rude to him again, not with the way he's looking back at me. For a moment I think I've seen his face before, but I dismiss the thought quickly because I would remember someone that gorgeous. I forcefully peel my eyes from his absolutely magnetic gaze, looking down to gently smooth out my skirt.

"I'm fine, I probably just have a bruise," I say in a much kinder tone than before. I reach up to straighten out my bandana, opening my mouth to speak again. "Sorry about my attitude, I'm just not having the best day right now," I apologize, putting one foot forward to step past him. He steps in front of me.

"At least let me buy you a cup of coffee, I feel terrible," he says enticingly. At this point I'm almost positive that he's figured me out because his eyes soften as they stare at me again; I can't resist his offer.

"Alright," I say giving in and smiling for what I think is the first time all day. We walk toward the register together and wait on the line that's three people deep. He looks over at me and appears to be pondering something.

"What?" I say, starting to get annoyed at the staring. I mean, even though his gorgeous eyes are on me of all people, staring incessantly is just plain inconsiderate.