Royally Screwed

03

If there was anything Galway had taught me, it was never to take a sunny day for granted. In Australia, the same remained with me lounging around the golden sand, getting a tan in a bikini. Today was different. Today, my slender frame was covered in a pretty white sundress that was loose enough it felt comfortable, a shawl rested on my neck covering dark blue love bites. The weather was humid and hot, my long dark hair was tied in up a ponytail.

I pushed down the classic aviators, Philip in his own shades walking towards me, a cap covering his dark curls. His eyes went straight to the pastel pink shawl on my neck, fingers touching it teasingly. His lips curled into a wicked grin. "You look warm," he teased

I shot him a dirty look, holding my pastel pink shawl tighter, "No thanks to you," I grumbled before adding, "Let's go for lunch."

Philips nodded, a smug smile on his lips as we walked. We chat about famous singers and possible cases of war as we make our way to his car, a well used Honda Jazz, possibly rented out. "Nice ride," I told him, flashing him a smile.

He returned my grin with a warmer smile.

I smile a little, butterflies in my stomach as I settled in the car and he drove us out of Bondi beach. He let me put the windows down, as the wind played with my hair. 

It was comfortable, it was peaceful. The calm before a storm. 

He parked the car nearby rows of tiny stores, hopping out and holding my hand as we entered the pastel coloured store. It looked like a family run shop, not those large chain-stores I often went to.

 It was coloured in pastel green, blue and yellow. There was a frilly air about it. The chairs were soft cushions that looked a little too big to fit in the shop. The tables were delicate and circle in pastel blue with waiters and waitresses in pastel yellow and pink outfits dashing around. 

It reminded me of my grandmother's home, back when she was alive. It felt homey.

I didn't want to say anything mean about the place, like the way the cushions looked a little old, or the smell of coffee that clung to the place that managed to make my insides scream in discomfort. It was scented enough to make me feel nauseous. 

Philip led us to tables in the corner of the shop, not near the window and what feels to be the hub of the scent. 

"I found this place when I first came here, all the shops were closed back then save here," He said absently, looking at all the waiters and waitresses dashing around.

"Did you sleep with the waitress?" I joked.

Philip turned to look at me, it was hard to tell what he felt with the shades covering a good chunk of his face and the hat covering the rest of it save his lips. But I felt his lips curl in distaste. "You're the only person I've slept with."

"Wait, you were a virgin before-"

"Heavens no," Philip said, lips curled downwards, "I mean, as in this summer. Have you slept with anyone else?"

"Since I came to Sydney, only you." I admitted, playing with the ends of my dress. This morning as I got ready, straightening and curling my hair, I wondered if this was a date, if it was a sort of farewell date, it sounded romantic. Something I would definitely tell Ellie and Maria when I got the time. 

Philips lips curled amused, "I'm flattered."

A waiter comes by, cute and far younger than the two of us, passing us two menus before he dashed off again. Philip goes through the menu, pointing out dishes he has tried and dishes he thought I would like. 

"So what do you say for an appetizer we go for Cheesy Beef Sausage rolls, I'll have Chicken Beef pie for my main and we both can share a Pavlova for dessert?" Philip said peering from above the menu. For a 24 year old, there was something remarkably boyish about him. He acted more my age than I did.