*Song above is: Leave Your Lover by Sam Smith. BONUS CHAPTER: This is how Grace and Miles met. I hope you liked it and if you did leave a vote and comment!*
Grace
"Yes, Kim, I'm ... fine." My voice is low as some strangers walk past me. Using one hand to hold my phone to my ear and the other to push open the door, I continue to listen to Kimberly's useless chattering. I was probably going to regret talking on the phone in here. But surprisingly, it's not crowed as I had expected. Instead, there was probably only about ten to twenty people inside.
It's chilly inside the building, the AC obviously running, but no one here seemed to be as affected by the sudden cold drift as me. I'm about to ask where I could sit but the hostess stationed behind the pay-station informs me that I could sit wherever I'd like. All I do is mumble a simple 'thank you' and go on my way. I find the perfect spot to sit at a booth that's been placed three tables down from the washrooms and is farthest away from any actually activity.
I almost forget Kimberly's on the phone until she's practically shouting my name into my ear, causing me to wince at the pain that emitted from the side of me head. It felt similar to a small, electric shock you'd get when you touch a blanket that's made of wool and you shake it. After quickly apologizing from not paying attention enough to the conversation she carries on.
"As I was saying, I'm so sorry that you have to go through this alone. I wish I could be there to comfort you through this. It must be hard." Actually, I was more than glad that nobody that I knew was here to comfort me. The last thing I need was to talk about my feelings over a tub of chocolate chunk, a sappy chick-flick, and wine. I wasn't going to tell Kim that, though, as that would probably hurt her feelings.
"Kim, can we just drop the subject? We've been on the same topic since you called me ten minutes ago, and really ...," I pause for a second, thinking of the right words, "... it's making me more depressed than anything else. So, please, just drop it?"
She ponders on this, and after about ten seconds I hear her sigh in defeat. "Fine ..," she agrees begrudgingly. "But, this isn't over. You can't just ignore this conversation like it's the plague. You can't just forget about him – he was like the love of your life."
I bring my hand up to my face and pinch the bridge of my nose. "You're doing it again. I'm fine, Kim, I swear. Let's just drop the topic before I actually do end up in tears, okay?"
"Okay," she grumbles out, but a millisecond later her mood changes. "So, have you met any cute guys? I know I have a boyfriend and everything, but you got to tell me. Or I'll die!"
I breathe out a laugh. "Of course, only you would tell that to someone who's just recently broke up with their boyfriend. And to answer your question, no, I haven't. Oh, and if we're going with who I find attractive – it's still a no."
"And only you would continue on with it," she states happily. "Now, onto more serious matters—"
"What matters could be so serious?" I ask curiously, cutting her off.
She blows out a huff of air, "The kind that involves you getting laid."
I instantly regret ever asking when I chock on my spit when I hear those words come out of her mouth. "That involve what?!"
"Do you need me to repeat—"
Again, I cut her off. "—Oh, no, no, no. There's no need to repeat what you just said. I understand completely. I'm just not really into this plan is all."
At some point during this little conversation of ours a waitress comes up my table, but when she notices that I'm busy talking to someone on the phone she just casually drops the menu onto the table before leaving. I open the menu up, using half of my attention span to scan over the pages of the menu with my eyes as I use the other half to listen to Kim explain to me I should get laid. It was honestly so pointless that at times I find myself rolling my eyes during this rant of hers.
"You need to get laid, Grace. Since you're no longer a prude –"
I gawk at her choice of words.
"I am not a prude!" I hiss quietly as to not draw attention to myself.
"Well," she snickers like I just told a joke, "Not anymore you're not."
I groan. "Kim, please, I'm being you here... stop."
"What?" She asks, sounding shocked. "Did you two not do the dirty—"
"And," I say quickly, "I'm hanging up."
Before she can protest I hang up and then place my phone onto the table as I rub my temple with one hand. I let out a tired sigh, not believing the conversation I just had. The same waitress that came by earlier strolls over to my table again, asking if I found what I'd like to order, and I nod my head. After telling her what I'd like to eat and writing down she dashes off to the kitchen, leaving a strong hint of Lavender scented perfume in the air.
Grabbing my phone I play some random game on it to pass the time as it would be a while till my food was ready. I get bored, though, rather easily in a matter of minutes so I decide to look at my surroundings. Ten feet away is the bar and behind is the kitchen where waitresses and waiters were coming in and coming out of. The place, as I realize, is almost quite except for the clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and the conversations that were held in hushed whispers from people across the room.
On the walls hung pictures of citizens who lived here – and they were either on a fishing boat, near a fishing boat where all of them had their arms linked with the entire crew, or on the docks where mostly people around their mid teens and late forties held a fish up in the air. I smile when I spot one that had a girl who couldn't have been more than seven or eight holding a fish that was much bigger than any of the others. Since I wasn't very familiar with fish I couldn't name any of the ones I saw.
There's a group of six men surrounding the pool table and the ones playing had their eyebrows scrunched together in thought, probably thinking of their next move. It was quite the interesting sight to see, as I've only seen people play pool on the TV. They laughed when one of them lost and sipped on their beer when it wasn't their turn.
One guy out of the six looked older than the rest, more mature as he hunched himself over the table and hit one of the balls on the table. A sly smirk appears on his face in a matter of seconds when he makes the shot. He catches me eye and I can't help but watch him as he continues on. The shaggy, brown mop that he calls hair fall in his eyes, but he brushes it away with a shake of the head. I could just barely see the freckles that dusted his skin, looking like constellations.
The most memorizing thing about him wasn't his strong build or the sound he made when he laughed – which, if I had to guess sounded something like an angel singing. It was actually his eyes, which held the truest emotions. He looked trust worthy, but behind that smile, behind that cheerful glint was a mystery I so wanted to figure out. There was limp to his step and that only furthered my curiosity.
I turn away though when he looks my way, the sound of someone's voice catching his attention and drawing it this way. We held each other's gaze for about a second, but that second was enough to cause a smile to spread across his face. A heat spreads from the back of my neck to my cheeks like a vine, and I go back to playing my game of Candy Crush.
A while later a waitress comes by with my order and places a large bowl in front me and along side of a smaller plate with garlic bread on it and tall glass of water. I thank her before she leaves and when she does I drop my phone into my bag and start to dig into my fettuccine alfredo. On the side of the plate, skewed on a wooden stick – that looks like a large tooth pick – is five pieces of grilled shrimp that are drizzled in butter and sprinkled with pepper. It was the perfect meal to have at the end of the day.
"Mind if I join?" A voice asks to the side of me and I look up slowly, dropping the fork that was in my hand back onto the plate. Standing beside was the same guy who had been playing pool earlier.
"Um...," I hum nervously, not exactly sure as how I should respond.
"It's okay if you say no," he tells me, holding out his hands. "You don't have to agree to let me sit here, it's just you looked rather lonely from where I was standing over there and I thought you could use some company. Besides, if I'm being honest, no pretty lady should being alone on such a beautiful night like this – and oh God, I'm scaring you aren't I? I swear I'm not some creep – and damn-it, Miles, stop rambling!"
I hold back a laugh as I stare at him, shaking my head. "No, no, it's okay. I-It's quite cute actually ... You're not scaring me, and as long as you try don't tell me that you came here to the 'music' or whatever, then you are a loud to take a seat."
And he does just that, taking a seat across from me. He's holding a bottle of bear in his hands but lets it go so he can cross his hands instead. "So, I'll try to refrain from any music telling of the sorts then, yeah?" He asks, and this time I can't back the laugh I had been suppressing. We both knew that the only music hear came through the speakers on the roof, and it sucked.
I nod, calming myself as a smile tugs at my lips. "Yeah, that would be good."
"Sounds good to me. And if anything the only reason I came here is play pool," he admits as he takes a sip of his beer.
I raise a skeptical eyebrow. "You mean hustle?"
He responds with a shrug of his shoulders. "It depends on what your definition of hustling is."
I roll my eyes. "It's scheming innocent college kids out of their money. What is it to you?"
He purses his lips, "A free dinner."
"Oh, so you're a thief?" I question, leaning a bit forward, intrigued.
Again, he shrugs his shoulders. "Like Robin Hood."
I look at him, confused. "I thought Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave the poor?"
He smirks, "Exactly."
I let out a loud huff when I realize what he's getting at. "You play dirty, you know that?"
He nods. "Yes, I knew. I just never told anyone."
This time when my eyebrow rises it's in curiosity. "So then why are you telling me this?"
"Because, you seem to be the only person interesting enough to tell." He says as he snatches a shrimp off my plate, and I don't bother to stop him as all I can do is smile.
"So," I start, "Do you have a name or I should I just call you Robin Hood?"
He licks his lips as he stares me right in the eye I swear if I was seated I would've fell.
"It does have a nice ring to it, but the name's Miles. And you?"
I bite my lip, but I don't hesitate to answer. "Grace. And I prefer it if you refrain from calling me Gracie."
He nods, seeing my distaste in the nickname. "Alright, I can do that, G."
And I knew in that moment I was probably going to end up being stuck with him. I really didn't see the problem with that, though.
Hii, so this is the bonus chapter. I hoped you all liked it!