Harper
"How do you know about all these places?" I asked, once we were seated at a nice table on the patio.
The cafe was called "The metro". It was french owned and extremely cute. Something you'd probably only see in romance movies.
And I sure felt like I was in one.
"I have my ways."
I rolled my eyes and picked up the menu, "Mysterious as always."
He chuckled and leaned back in his seat. He spread his legs apart slightly to make himself more comfortable.
Why are you even looking?
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
Clearing my throat, I feigned an obnoxious judgmental stare. "You're slouching. That's not very proper Morano."
"My apologies, M'lady." he said, fixing his posture.
A smile broke out onto my face, "Why do guys always do that?"
"Do what?"
"The slouching and bad posture." I thought about it, "Is it uncomfortable for you... when you sit?"
His eyebrows shot up at my random question. I gave him a long stare, waiting for him to respond.
He wetted his lips, "Only if you have a big d-"
"Okay okay."
He chuckled deeply and a waiter came up to our table to take our orders.
I did the talking while he sat there, brooding and grumpy as usual.
I ordered two chocolate filled croissants, a cold brew coffee for myself and a plain black coffee for him, just how he liked it.
I asked if he wanted anything else, he said no. Nonetheless, I was going to make him eat the chocolate croissant.
But if he really didn't want it, that's more for me then.
The waiter left and I looked back at him. He was staring down at his phone, smirking.
As if sensing my gaze, he brought his attention back to me, raising an eyebrow.
"What are you smirking about?"
He shook his head, showing me his phone. I looked at the screen, frowning and smiling at the same time.
I flicked my gaze back to his, "That's me."
He snuck these photos while I was too busy admiring the art at the gallery.
My back was facing him and somehow, he got all the right angles.
There were at least twenty pictures or more. All starring myself. My back profile to be precise.
My smile widened, "Send them to me." he nodded once and I heard my phone buzz in my tote bag. "Now you're acting like me."
"You're stalker tendencies have rubbed off on me."
"You're the one who literally followed me everywhere." I pointed out, reminiscing the times he'd randomly show up.
"And you would take photos of me at every given opportunity."
"I had to capture the moment."
"I bet you have tons of albums full of photos of me."
Guilty.
"Perhaps." I said, with a mischievous glint in my eyes.
I do actually. I have three albums, all full of photos of him. Of us.
I kept them stored in my basement. I go down there once in a while to visit the memories locked away in time.
The waiter came back with our food and set it down in front of us.
"Merci beaucoup." I said. My french was alright. I knew the basics thanks to french class.
"De rien."
(translation: no problem or you're welcome)
I slid the plate of delicious looking pastries in the middle.
"Pour moi?" he said.
"Oui, pour toi."
"I don't want it."
I rolled my eyes and picked one up. Taking a bite and closing my eyes, nodding in approval. "No poison detected."
He huffed out a quiet laugh and reached over to grab the other one.
"It's good?"
"Very," I replied.
He made the most difficult decision of the century, trusting me.
He took a bite and placed it down again, bringing the mug of plain black coffee to his mouth. He took a sip and washed down the horrid taste of sweetness.
"So?"
"I like yours better." he stated.
I thought otherwise. These one's were really good.
I smiled, "Why thank you." I eyed the croissant on the plate, "Are you going to eat that?"
"No."
I knew he wasn't too keen on anything with sugar so I made a mental note to make something for him later.
I picked up the remaining croissant and took a bite.
He watched me as I ate. It should've make me self conscious but it didn't. Instead, I felt a warm feeling in my chest.
I offered him a grin and finished up the dessert quickly, taking sips of my coffee.
"I want to go to paris one day." I said randomly.
"Why?"
"I don't know. There's the people, the food, the sights to see."
"You got a thing for french people? First it was Italians and now-" I bit my lip, miserably failing at biting back another smile.
"Maybe I'll find a wonderful guy there."
His eyes seemed to darken.
"Well, I got a thing for girls named Harper, with luscious black hair, the most beautiful eyes. She's extremely stubborn, kind." he paused, "Has a killer smile."
"That's seems rather oddly specific," I mused.
He laughed quietly while I watched him, a soft smile playing at my lips. "I think you might know her."
"I think I'd remember if I knew someone as cool as her."
Amusement danced in his eyes, "We met in grade school. The teacher assigned us to sit next to each other. She hated me at first."
"I never hated you! I just thought you were strange," I said defensively.
"You thought that about everyone. You never cared about them either. Always stuck up in your own little world."
"I guess I was obnoxious."
"Do you remember when those guys came and tripped me in the cafeteria?" I nodded, waiting for him to continue. Thinking back to the past.
"You came up to us, picked up the half full carton of milk and threw it in that idiot's face."
"You looked like you were about to punch him. I did you a favour. It was way worse than a black eye," I said.
He chuckled, "Damn right."
"We both got sent to the principal's office."
His amused expression faded and he let out a heavy sigh.
I had a bad feeling about it.
"You were my hero and what did I do? I became your villain," he said.
This was the first time the horrible memory, stuck in both our minds was mentioned.
I had hoped this discussion wouldn't be brought up and yet it came way sooner than I had anticipated.
I frowned, "Ace, what happened that night. I'm completely over it. It's in the past. Please don't-"
"I'm not. I'm not over it," he said quietly.
"I don't understand."
All this time, I thought he didn't feel much remorse for what he said.
It's funny how the good memories can be pushed away so that the bad one's take their place in my mind—and heart for that matter.
He had done things afterwards, attempting to make up for his actions. Apologizing. I knew that.
But the words he said to me that night stuck with me since.
And it killed me.
"I was so stupid. So fucking stupid. I'm so sorry Harper, you have no idea."
"It's fine. Can we not talk about it right now. I was having a good time," I paused, catching that look in his eyes.
He chuckled humourlessly, "I ruin everything, don't I?"
I let a smile slip passed my lips, "Yeah."
A genuine look crossed over his features, "Sorry I brought it up. I just wanted to tell you that."
"I know you didn't mean it. You've showed me with your actions." I smiled, giving him a pointed look. He rolled his eyes, "but thank you." I looked down at our empty glasses, "Now, I say we go back to my place?"
"I had a few more things planned." He cleared his throat, "But it's fine if you don't want to-"
"No! Sorry, gosh. I didn't know you had other things for us to do. I'd love to spend the day with you."
He stopped rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his eyes widening in surprise as if he was expecting a rejection from my part.
I tilted my head slightly to the side, "What did you have in mind?"
That was a dumb question. I should know that even if I asked, he still wouldn't tell me.
"You'll see."
I rolled my eyes, already expecting that answer and reached for my wallet as I spotted the waiter coming back over.
"Don't even think about it." I told him, promptly taking out a twenty dollar bill.
I left a five dollar tip on the table and got up.
"I could've paid," he said.
"Did I hurt your big male ego?"
"Yes." That made me laugh. At least he's not trying to hide it.
My jaw dropped as he took twenty dollars out of his wallet and put it in my tote bag, wordlessly.
Before I could say anything, he nodded towards the door that led inside, "Let's go."
I followed him back into the cafe and outside again.
"I don't want your money Morano."
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't care what you want," his gaze bore into mine, "Keep it."
I let out an exasperated sigh, shaking my head, "You haven't changed one bit."
He changed in some ways but in others, he didn't.
He was the Ace I knew but a stranger at the same time.
We got to his motorcycle and safely got on.
I thought about all the times he's done that. All the times he'd do so much for me and asked for nothing in return.
It confused me.
Shouldn't he regret doing all that for me? I broke his heart. I ripped it out of his chest and walked away with it.
I left him behind and never looked back.
And here he is, refusing to let me pay for a fucking coffee.
He doesn't make any sense to me. He was so closed off, heartless. But that's what drew me to him. I thought he was a huge mystery that I could one day uncover.
And I did but I don't think he wanted me to. He didn't want me to be disappointed in him.
He was so ashamed of his past and he hated opening up.
In fear that if he did, I'd leave. And that's exactly what happened.
I learned the truth about him, let his words cut me deep like a knife and then, I walked away.
Despite the fact that he tried so hard not to, he hurt me deeply in the end.
Now, he's back and I sort of found peace again in his presence. Even though my heart ached when I looked at him.
Even though the bad memories resurfaced. Even after I had to pick up the pieces of my heart. Even after all the sleepless nights I spent drowning in a pool of my tears.
I found peace in it because I felt that maybe we could try and make amends, maybe we could fight for each other.
Perhaps we could get up and strike again.
We're stronger now, emotionally, unlike the people we used to be.
Because that was before and this is now.
He chuckled under his breath, "You can let go of me now."
I was welcomed back to reality and my face heated in embarrassment.
I slowly let go of him, looking around at our surroundings.
We were at Coney Island.
I always came here alone, drowning in my sorrows and all.
I liked walking along the water and dining at the diners.
Yes, by myself. Sometimes though, I went with Nora. Or when Nicole and Nick would visit. I'd go with them.
I got off the motorcycle and looked up at him. "How did you know?"
"I know you." he replied, his expression and tone blank. I studied his face, searching for a flicker of emotion but found nothing.
He was very good at hiding his feelings, being grumpy and looking terrifyingly handsome. If it were a sport, I think he'd be a gold medalist.
I both hated and loved it. It gave me a chance to try and guess.
Before, I could sort of tell what he was feeling. But now, I don't know.
What I did know was that if Death were a person, it'd be him.
He was so beautiful. A deadly, mysterious, painful, piece of art.
I was blinded by the love I had for him and he took it to his advantage—willingly or unwillingly, it doesn't matter—he killed me slowly.
And now that my heart seemed to beat again, I was only terrified that he might to it again.
"You don't know me," I said quietly.
"Try me."
"She's gone Ace and she's not planning on coming back."
He remained stoic. "I know."
Then, he looked at me a faint smirk cracked his emotionless facade, "But I know you still love cheese fries and milkshakes."
And just like that, the tension around us dispersed.
"I do." I laughed, confirming his statement.
In silence and deep in thought, we walked to the diner.
I was surprised he remembered. Though, I should've expected he would.
He still knew me in some ways but in others, he didn't.
I thought for a brief moment that perhaps the universe is really giving us another chance.
I recalled the first 'date' we went on. It wasn't really a date per se but we hung out together at the diner—with Nicole, Grey and Nick.
I had ordered cheese fries and a strawberry milkshake. I loved it so much. But I never went often because I knew it was very unhealthy.
And him being him, he remembered.
I still remembered the little things about him as well.
Like the way he'd run his hand through his hair, attempting to fix it. When he was a bit self conscious.
The way he'd tense up when he was nervous, seeming to brood even more when really, he was just shy.
I pictured the way he looked at me when I'd laugh. He was proud that he was able to bring a smile to my face.
The way his eyes lit up ever so slightly when he was amused. That didn't happen often.
He loved cars, books and the food I made.
I forced him to eat sushi, drink bubble tea, watch movies with me and shove my favourite books in his face.
We'd play chess and I always won, like the genius I was.
He seemed to truly be himself when he was with me and vice versa.
Still thinking hard on the past, I looked off in the distance towards the body of water, smiling softly at nothing in particular.
Summer was right around the corner and I was excited.
I didn't particularly like the extremely hot days though. Granted, they were absolutely horrible.
Nonetheless, I liked sitting by the beach in a cute bikini, reading a book while sipping on a nice refreshing drink.
I liked having my coffee, sitting on the comfortable chairs on my balcony in the mornings.
I liked the light breeze laced with both warm and slightly cool summer air.
I enjoyed watching the beautiful sunsets in the evening and having picnics in the afternoon.
The bell chimed as we stepped inside the diner. It was very retro themed, early 2000s. The floor was checkered black and white. There were a few booths available and we were about to head towards the one on our left, at the back when I suddenly got an idea.
"Could we get take out and then go back down to the beach. I'd like to eat there."
He nodded and ordered the food. Yes, he paid.
They handed him a take out bag with our food inside while I held my drink.
"Why are you doing this?" I questioned as we exited the diner.
He momentarily tensed up, "What?"
"Are you spending all this time and money on me because you feel bad about what you did? Is this some way of making up for the stuff you-"
"No." Was all he said.
I shut my eyes and smiled, laughs escaping my lips uncontrollably. "Blunt as always."
"You love messing with my head, don't you?" he remarked.
"That, I do."
My laughter died down as he let out a ragged sigh, "I'm not. I'm not doing it because I feel bad. I'm doing it because I want to. I enjoy spending time with you, I missed you like hell."
"Well, I am very amazing." He hummed in response.
"You still can't take anything seriously."
"I guess," I snickered, "I just hate your sappy words."
He shook his head amusement, "Why? I meant every word I said." I gave him a hard look and he took the hint, "Except that night."
I sucked in a breath, tensing up ever so slightly at the mention of that horrid night we fell apart.
I didn't like thinking about it.
But most of the time, that's what my thoughts circled back to.
I love him; I hate him
I miss him; I don't
I want him to stay; I want him to leave
He broke my heart; He could mend it back together
He killed the light inside of me; He made me feel alive
My heart ached when he's around; My heart beats for him
These thoughts go back and forth over and over again. Contradicting each other.
It's so annoying.
Sometimes, I wish I could just stop thinking. But obviously that's not a possibility. I'm still trapped within his grasp.
He temporarily set me free and now he's here to get me back.
Is that a good thing? I don't know. Do I mind? Not really. Should I? Most likely yes.
I'm still not sure what his motives are though. That's what scares me the most. The unknown.
I hate not knowing certain things. So that's why I make stuff up in my head.
It sort of helps.
Not really.
I just keep digging deeper holes and giving myself more pain and heartache.
We walked along the ocean. I quickly found a nice spot with a table and chairs under a parasol.
We got seated and I looked at the food, not really feeling hungry just yet.
I sipped on my milkshake, thinking about something to say to break the silence between us.
"I feel a little bad that I took the day off," I said finally.
Though, they don't necessarily need me to be at the store everyday.
It's usually quiet and calm. Genevieve can handle it as well as the other employees I had hired. I still like showing up.
Then again, I barely have any time for myself anymore.
Which is something I don't really mind because I'd be spending that time by myself. Alone.
I don't need another reminder of how lonely I am.
But right mow, here with him, it feels nice.
"You don't like spending time with me?"
"Not really." I said, smiling so he'd know I wasn't being serious.
"Haven't seen you in three years. No contact. And this is how you welcome me."
I laughed, "You probably stalked my instagram."
His lips twitched ever so slightly, "I didn't."
He doesn't even have any social media. His phone would be very boring if it wasn't for the hundreds of hundreds of pictures we took together.
"Then how did you know exactly where to find me?" I challenged.
"Lucky guess."
"Bullshit. How did you really find me."
"I asked your brother."
My eyes widened, "You asked Elliot."
"Yeah. Then I came and found you as soon as the three years went by. I've been counting down the days till I could see you again. It was all I could ever think about." My heart skipped a beat. "You know I found you about a month before I actually approached you," he added.
"What?" Disbelief was written all over my features.
Inside, I was overjoyed and relieved by his words, knowing he felt the same way during the time we spent apart. A little confused but I was happy.
"I walked by your store every morning, I'd stand by the window, watching you, hoping you'd see me.
I let out a shaky breath, "I never did."
He nodded, "You were busy, working hard. I didn't mind. I was just happy to see you."
Then he seemed to be a little embarrassed by what he was about to say. I patiently waited for him to go on.
"I was so nervous. I didn't know how I was supposed to act, what I was supposed to say," he let out a ragged breath, "all these questions crowded my thoughts. I wondered if you moved on, if you ever thought about me, how were you doing, if you found someone new. Hell, I thought you hated me."
I knew he wasn't much of a talker, it was hard for him to speak his mind.
Nonetheless, I wanted to hear every thought he had.
So when he did. When he spoke his thoughts. I wanted to capture his words in a bottle and keep it forever in my pocket.
"And that night, when I saw you waking alone to the bridge. The memories hit me like a truck and I wanted to run away. But I didn't. I stood there like a fucking idiot. I caught a glimpse of the night we met and when you looked at me for the first time in three years, I was blown away."
I had no idea what he was feeling but when I looked into his eyes, I felt it all.
His pain, his happiness, the distant love we had for each other.
"It was selfish of me to come here to you but I'm selfish and I don't give a shit," he finished.
I got blurry eyed, falling apart inside because of his words.
"It's not selfish. I had no idea you," I couldn't finish my sentence. My words were trapped in my throat.
"You don't need to say anything Harper," he spoke softly.
"It's really hard for me. That's all." I swallowed hard, "It hurts."
"If you want to go home and never see me again, I understand-"
"No it's not that." I laughed through the tears threatening to spill.
"Why are you laughing?" amusement danced in his eyes.
"It's just," I took a moment to try to stop, crying and semi laughing, "Gosh. We're so dramatic."
To my surprise, he laughed. A real laugh. The kind I haven't heard in a really long time. It was small but it meant a lot to me.
At this point, I was laughing so hard. Tears of joy out-teared the tears of sadness from earlier.
We probably looked really stupid right now.
But we were just happy to be here.