In A Cafe - Short Story

So this is somewhat of a One Shot for Begin Again, but it is actually an assignment for my Creative Writing class, thats why i dont have direct reference to Taylor or anything. anyway, so I hope you like! dont forget to tell me what you think!

My elbows rested on the pearl colored vanity, as I stared into the handcrafted framed mirror in front of me. ‘Meet the new and improved Spencer Darling!’ I introduced myself, taking a deep breath but then quickly resulting in a sigh. For eight months I had been sitting in misery. For eight months I had been losing hope thinking about the man who made my life miserable. Eric. My painful blue eyes wandered down to my feet that were sitting a pair of new, sleek black heels. Eric didn’t like heels, said that they made me too tall, even though I was a good foot shorter. He always liked to have control…

Pushing my plump red lips together, and making my way to the door, I turned the lock of my new apartment and slipped through the doorway. Popping my ear buds in, my favorite song came on. ‘Can’t Tell Me Nothing’ by Mr. Tim McGraw. Although, like nearly everything else I loved, Eric disapproved. Saying, he didn’t get it, even though I tried to explain it time and time again. Today was my day, though. The eight month mark of Spencer Darling being free from mental abuse.

Stopping at stores to try on clothes was so different. I was doing something for me. Self-conscious of my thin body frame and image, I picked some not so very revealing clothes. Pulling a black dress up to my neck I twirled around, for once feeling... For once, being okay with being myself, and being different. Leaving the store with a new pale-colored sweater, I put one foot in front of the other, reaching the entrance of a sweet little café in my current home of Paris. My thin blonde hair was pulled off my face into the tail of a pony. A sweet strapless dress that fell to what Eric liked to call my 'knobby knees', hugged my body as I reached the front desk where many treats sat to be shown off and eventually eaten. “Bonjour!” a petite girl smiled. “What may I get for you, demoiselle?”

“Um,” I hesitated, “that one!” I pointed to a red velvate cupcake with strawberrys on top.

“Anything else?” she asked as she rung in numbers to the till.

“Coffee, please. Merci!”

“Pas de problem” she smiled sweetly. I raised an eyebrow, clearly seeming confused. She giggled. “No problem.”

With my coffee and treat, I took a seat at a booth near a full window. I crossed my legs and pulled out a doodle pad and map, beginning to sketch things I had seen and visited during my lovely time in Paris. Taking a sip of my coffee, I saw a flash in the corner of my eye. “Excusez-moi monsieur…” I started, looking in his direction.

A dark haired man stood from his group of friends while holding a high deff camera in his hand. Slowly he walked over to me grinning. “Bonjour, demoiselle! Comment allez-vous?”

I shook my head, not knowing what he was saying, I found my words for ‘I’m sorry.’ “je suis désolé” I hesitated stating the apology, “I don’t speak a lot of French.”

“Good!” he laughed while his blue eyes sparkled. His English caught me completely off guard. “English is my preference. Mind if I take a seat?”

I nodded and gestured across the table of the rounded booth. “Be my guest!” He took a seat, “now let me know, what is your name?”

“Being forward aren’t we?” he winked.

“You took a picture of me; I think it’s my right to know your name.” I said nearly blushing.

"Fair enough,” he shrugged, “I'm Hunter, pleased to meet you.” Setting his camera down, Hunter put out his hand.