The cold December air nips at my nose, turning it a bright pink. The coffee shop is just a few streets down. I remind myself. My soft, purple knit hat with black hearts covering most of the surface area on it sags on the back of my head as the rim of it is secure on my head. My blond hair is tucked into it. My light black jacket does nothing to fight the bitter cold threatening to give me cold. I wrap my slender, pale arms around my chest and cross the street as the cross walk signals that it is safe. I wave to a few cars to be courteous. When I reach the other end of the street, I gasp, panting, trying to drink in all the cold, burning oxygen that enters my lungs. I bend over placing my hands on my knees and looking at my brown, leather boots that come up to the bottom of my knee. They look worn out even though they are fairly new. I somewhat catch my breath again and continue to the coffee shop, hoping that he'll be there. I swear to God if he is not here I am going to run in front of a car.
I walk inside, hearing the small jingle of the bells on the glass door. I soon realize I am panting heavily. I remove my hat and put it over my stinging cold nose. I cough, my throat itching. I remove the hat after I calm down as the warmth of the shop consumes me and I am flooded with the aromas of coffee cakes and sweet, sweet lattes. I sigh and walk to the counter located right at the front. My boots click on the beige ceramic tile. I smile kindly at the tall man, Donovan, behind the glass container holding all the treats. He frowns.
"It's really cold out there, Maka. You okay?" He says. I come in here often and we often chat if the shop is dead.
"Yes. I'm fine, thank you, Dad." I say dryly. He smirks and his hair shines from the glossy gel he has applied.
"Honestly. You're sixteen now. You should get a license." I smile and toss my hand from one side of my body to the other, quietly dismissing the topic. "The usual I'm assuming?"
"Of course." I beam at him. He hands me a banana-chocolate chip coffee cake wrapped in a thin sheet of white paper as he prepares my drink. I quickly scan the dining area and I quickly find him. He is staring at me. Oh my god. Has he been staring the whole time?! I feel my face flush and it feels good, considering I just came from the cold. He holds his paper cup up, hiding his mouth with both hand's fingertips. I can see the corner of his lips peeking at me from the edges of the coffee cup. His eyes hold mine in a trance and I cannot move. His white hair sticks out to the left and spikes.
I don't know how long we gaze at each other until I am quickly pulled from my daydream from Donovan clearing his throat. I feel another flush crawl its way up my spine and up the back of my neck, sprawling out on my cheeks.
"Heh. Thanks." I say guiltily. The corner of his mouth quirks up and his navy blue eyes swim around with humor. I frown and sit at my usual table which is right next to the large window, spanning from one edge of the shop to the other, right in the middle. He sits one table over and three tables back. I am able to look at him from here. I cautiously pick at my coffee cake, feeling his gaze on me. I have never spoken to him, but I have seen him at school. I recall his name being Soul. He had been in Professor Stein's class with me. He always had his arm around some girl. I would see him with a new girl every month. I eventually stopped keeping track. Even so, every time he was with someone he would always stare at me here, as if I was some rare, endangered species and he had to soak in every little detail before my kind was wiped out. It was unnerving. And he wouldn't like you anyway. I mean, look at you. I scream at myself in my head. I gaze out the window, watching cars whiz by and staring at the tall buildings. I can be so hard on myself sometimes.
Donovan has retreated into the kitchen. I heard him walk off. I turn my head, releasing my gaze from the city and jump when I see Soul sitting across from me, his left palm resting on the corner of his chin, his fingers reaching his soft white hair.
"Oh! Christ." I say, startled. A small smile plays across his lips. The steam from his black coffee - as far as I can tell from the scent - rises up and his crimson eyes locked on my green ones. I almost gasp, but I contain myself and sip my scorching hot latte and manage to get it down without screaming as it burned my tongue.
"Hot?" he asked in a calm tone. His eyes are alight with humor.
"Just a tad." I say, a wicked grin playing across my face. What just happened? I'm never this outgoing. I just read all the time. Different...
"Where's your book?" he asked, looking down at my black shoulder bag lying limp on the floor. He notices me reading?! I become flustered as I try to come up with an excuse when the real reason is because I came here for him.
"Uh...heh, I just, uh, didn't feel like reading I guess." I say. Lame, Maka. Just lame.
"I find that hard to believe considering you read all the time in class." he says, his smile fading and his face becoming serious and his eyes return to mine. He removes his hand from his face and scoots his coffee to his right, placing his knitted hands in front of him, eying me intently. I look at his hands that are in the middle of the table as his words seep through my skull and into my brain and realize, Holy crap. He knows me.
"You watch me read in class?" I say a bit harsher than I intended. He smirks showing his razor sharp teeth.
"I do. I think the things you do are...intriguing." I blush and look down at my latte that I hold in my hands on top of my lap and realize that my legs are shaking. Why?! "You know, you can calm down. Just because I have really sharp teeth doesn't mean I bite." I involuntarily giggle. I stop and just smile. I look up to meet his gaze and see his warm smile. He then slides a napkin over to me. "Give me a call." I nod, at a loss of words. Say something! I scream at myself. I sit there in silence for a few moments. I then realize I should probably leave. All at once, I stuff my half-eaten coffee cake into my bag and grab my latte. I stand and begin a sentence.
"I should get goi-" and as I turn I trip over the leg of my chair. I drop my drink and I almost hit the floor until I realize Soul has caught me. His strong, steady arms hold my shoulders. My hands are on his and I stare at the ground that is inches from my face as my legs lay limp on the floor. I watch the brown liquid and white foam travel across the floor. I realize I am holding my breath and I exhale. Nice one, Clumsy. I scowl at myself as Soul still holds me steady. I stare down at his shoes and I slowly stand.
"You okay?" he asks as I brush off my thighs.
"Besides my incapability to stand up straight? Perfect." I grab the napkin off the table and shove it in my jeans pocket. His smiles at my sarcasm. He then frowns as I reach in my bag for my hat.
"You shouldn't walk in the cold." He stands above me by an inch, maybe and inch and a half, and his eyes burn into mine. I pull my hat on the way it was before and shrug.
"How else am I supposed to get home?" I ask. He frowns.
"A cab maybe?" he says, frustrated. I roll my eyes.
"I don't have enough." He eyes me carefully and pulls a wallet from his back pocket and hands me two twenties. "No." I say sternly. He nods.
"Take it. You'll get sick and ruin your perfect attendance." How does he know I have perfect attendance?! I eye him and cautiously take the money. I narrow my eyebrows.
"Thank you." I mutter. He smiles. He acts as though this argument was a game and he has had a victory. I walk out, angry and yet cheerful because I have his number.