Unforgettable

Part 9

Natalie

My fingers click over the keys softly, words filling the empty page instantly. Machines growl to life in the background, cups clinking as they're dried. Chatter fills the cozy establishment, people everywhere sharing different details of their vastly contrasting lives. Rain may be falling outside, but it'd be impossible to pick up on here, busy background noise muting it. I pick up my own cup, sipping at the hot liquid slowly before placing it back onto the table. I flex my cramped fingers before getting back to work, my attention back to my page. I'm still in the early stages of writing my book, but it doesn't make it any less exciting. The characters have just met for the first time, both feeling this sense of connection to a stranger they barely know. Like a magnetic pull, they're drawn to each other, their hearts already stolen. 

One of the things I like the most about writing is the ability to dictate every little thing that happens. I could write the most perfectly balanced love story, where everyone ends up happy and feeling loved, or I could write the most heartbreaking, gut-wrenching story where everyone would probably kill me after reading it. Or, I could do a bit of both. Play with the readers emotions like a puppet to start with, but then finish with a perfect, happily ever after. 

A small ding arises from the front door of the little coffee shop, although I barely notice. My fingers work like magic, pressing keys and forming sentences like there's no tomorrow. I'm too drawn into my work that I don't notice the seat in front of me has been taken, until a soft, butter like voice fills my quiet space. 

"I must be pretty damm boring if you don't even notice I've sat down."

A smirk looks at me from behind my laptop screen, and I find myself smiling uncontrollably.

"Sorry, just give me a second to finish what I'm writing before I forgot."

"Yeah, sure, take all the time in the world." 

I rush to finish my last sentence, before dot pointing other ideas I still have to write for later. I save my work quickly before lowering my laptop screen completely, stuffing it into my bag. As I do so, Casey stands from his seat, walking over to mine and holding his arms out.

"Bring it in." He says, smiling down at me.

I stand from my seat and fall into his warm body. Our hug only lasts a few seconds, as we're in public, but with my nose pressed into his body, I'm able to smell the sweetness of his body wash. I don't know if he realizes, but the fact he smells good is a massive turn on. Wow, and now I'm sounding like a creepy stalker who documents people based off of their body washes. 

We sit back down at my little table, just looking at each other. 

We haven't seen each other in person since his hockey game, but we've talked on the phone a lot more since the other night. Although, for all we've talked, I can't seem to find any words now that he's sitting right here in person. 

"Did we use up all our conversation on the phone?" he asks jokingly, telling me he's feeling the same. I laugh quietly, my hands returning to rest on the warm sides of my mug.

"What are you doing here?" I ask nervously, taking a sip of my warm liquid. 

"Getting coffee, I ordered just before. What are you doing here?" 

I readjust my glasses, the steam from my too-hot tea making them foggy. 

"Well, sometimes I like to write in coffee shops, just because it's a different setting, different inspiration. And for the drinks." I reply, motioning to my half full cup.

"Hold on, you come to a coffee shop to drink... tea?" he asks, eyeing me warily.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. It's for the experience." I reply, poking my tongue out at him jokingly.