Her solitude.

His company.

Her silence.

His words.

Her coffee.

His latte.

Their date.

I stared at the clock expectantly.

Five minutes more.

Tapping my fingers on the table, I gazed at the half-empty coffee shop. Sanji, the barista caught my eyes and threw a small smile at me which I so timidly returned.

Four minutes more.

I took a sip of my second coffee. The three teenagers seated on my left were talking about prom dates which somehow irked me. I turned my gaze to the old man I've seen yesterday, he sat on the same spot—near the comfort room, drinking his coffee. He reminded me of an old friend.

Three minutes more.

I dusted my sweatshirt—tiny crumbs of oatmeal cookie I ate 10 minutes ago were stuck up everywhere. I opened my bag—which was seated on my lap ever since I got here 2 hours ago, and brought out my wallet. I still have some to spare for my 3rd coffee—if ever I think about a refill. I threw the clock another glance before flipping another page of my report.

Two minutes more.

I looked at the glass window across me—overlooking the bus stop on the corner beside the flower shop. My heart started to race as another minute has passed and a bus has just stopped. I took a deep breath and fixed my glasses anxiously.

30 seconds more and I started to bit on my lower lip—preventing myself from staring at the door.

Five.

Four.

I fidgeted with the hem of my sweatshirt.

Three.

I saw Sanji throw another comforting smile at me. I forgot to return it when— one, the wind chime by the entrance of the coffee shop jingled making me look up.

And there you were.

You walked straight to the counter and ordered your usual drink—latte.

After paying the bill, you walked straight to your usual table—right across mine.

I leaned my head against the wall and pretended to read my 10-page report when you walked past me.

I swooned secretly at your smell.

It awakened my senses—way better than my coffee. You removed your dark green scarf and black coat and laid it on the table. I watched you discreetly as you loosened the first two buttons of your white polo shirt. I bit on my lower lip as I felt my cheeks burn.

I shifted in my seat. You were raking your moss green hair with your fingers when you shot me a glance. I quickly turned away.

My eyes landed on the old man by the comfort room. He was slicing his sandwich into two before dipping it into his coffee. I found it amusing but my heart was still beating fast.

You almost caught me.

I tried to calm myself down as I leaned my head on my hand—pretending to read the now-useless papers on my table again. My supervisor has just rejected my 10-page report, throwing it at my feet five hours ago. I bawled my eyes out after being embarrassed in front of my co-workers. I hated my supervisor. He was never contented with my work. He always saw me as 'the flawed one'. I thought of resigning but where do I go from there?

My thoughts ran from my supervisor back to you. I smiled as I drew a picture of you on my head. You were still seated across me but I couldn't look up at you—not just yet.

I have to let my nervousness simmer down before I steal another furtive glance at you.

When I first saw you walk in on that door, I had to admit, I was mesmerized.

I couldn't believe that an utterly handsome man like you would choose to buy a coffee at this shabby place than at the famous Starbucks.

I, for myself, liked hanging out at Baratie, not because they had great coffee nor do they have an inviting ambience, but because it was almost empty. And the solitude it brought to a loner like me was fascinating.

You gave the shop an appraising look and I saw you smirk before walking towards the counter, examining the sloppily written menu on the blackboard.

I watched you carefully.

You amused me in a not so romantic way then. Sanji received your order and you handed him a bill.

To be honest, I rarely liked handsome men.

I actually never liked a handsome man.

No.

I never liked a man. Only because I couldn't bring myself to trust men.

Let me rephrase that.

I couldn't bring myself to trust anyone at all. I continuously stared at you as you sat on the table at the far corner. I scrutinized your profile as you did to the shop.

A small smile tugged on my lips as I saw you fish out a wide black notebook and pencil from your messenger bag. I could tell that you were drawing by the way you stroke the pencil along your notebook.

I looked down at the book I was reading and my eyes landed on: "Loneliness is a gift of grief. Happiness is a gift of love. Companionship is as sweet as sorrow. Take the risk for what it's worth. No man is an island." I blinked my eyes in disbelief. What was I reading? Was the book directly talking to me?

I scanned the shop and it was just you, me, and the barista named Sanji.

Maybe a friend wouldn't hurt, I thought.

But who was I kidding?

I had a friend when I was eight. Her name was Valentine. She was my neighbor. We played together especially during late afternoons. She would come by at our house with all of her toys. I only had one toy. Saul— my teddy bear. I never had distinct likings for toys. When my parents would buy me one, I'll stick with it forever. I had established loyalty way before I could read. I had Saul since I was 3 years old. My mother told me to get rid of him and she'll buy me a new one but I blatantly refused.

When Valentine and I were playing at the living room, I saw her eyeing Saul.

"Can I have your teddy?" she asked.

"You have a lot of toys, I only have one." I pointed out.

"But I want your teddy," she persisted.

I gave her a look. "I'll let you play with Saul but he's mine."

There was a hesitant look on her face but later on, she agreed. I read Hans Christian books as she played with Saul. I never touched her toys because I never had an eye for Barbie dolls and teacups.

When Valentine got tired, she brought out a candy from her bag and shoved it down her mouth. It was the usual candy she always shared with me. I asked if she had brought another one. She shook her head and continued playing with Saul.

It was fine.

I never liked candies anyway. It was just the thought of eating the same candies with someone that makes me feel at ease- especially if it was with Valentine. I always loved her presence. She made me feel at ease.

When I stood up from the couch, I accidentally knocked her bag over—spilling whatever was in it. She didn't seem to notice so I hurriedly picked up her things and stuffed them back in her bag. I stopped short when I saw a small pack of candies—the same one that she had just eaten.

I was eight. I barely knew anything.

But that pack of candies broke my heart. Something inside of me shattered. And it was just after a few years later that I realized that it was trust.

That pack of candies has shattered every trust that I had in my innocent being. And it was never pieced back together. I couldn't bring myself to trust anyone anymore. I stopped being friends with Valentine right after she stole Saul and moved out of town. Stole seemed to be a big word.

Well, it was. She hid Saul inside her bag. I could tell because it made a big bulge on her small bag. I never questioned her. It was no use. I didn't trust her and that bulge on her bag proved me right. I whispered goodbye to Saul as she walked out of our house—my tears hanging for a moment.

I turned to Sanji after leaving that remorseful memory to the wind. He gingerly placed my cup of coffee on the table with a smile.

He had been smiling at me since day one, I never smiled back. He was younger than me, I could tell. He could have passed as a friend because he treated me as one, but I didn't see him that way.

I never talked to him, except of course, when I placed my order. I could only trust him with my coffee. That was all.

But after reading that line from the book, I managed to pass him a small smile.

I saw his eyes flicker for a moment. He was surprised at the sudden friendly gesture. But he didn't react further, maybe trying to get me off the hook of awkwardness.

He walked off after telling me to enjoy my coffee. I felt relieved. I had been coming to Baratie for two years and only then did I smile at anyone at all.

My eyes then travelled towards you.

Your brows pushed together, red lips tightly pursed as you continuously dragged your pencil across your notebook.

You momentarily looked up at my direction. I almost choked on my coffee. Were you looking at me? Or at the counter behind me?

I couldn't tell, you were a good 12 feet away from me. I calmed myself down when Sanji walked towards you, carrying a tray of your order. I could hear him tell you to enjoy your latte and you—thanking him, all because of the emptiness of the shop.

You took a sip from your drink. You raised your brows and flashed a grin to my direction—or to the counter, probably at Sanji. Either way, my heart tugged at that moment.

It was because of your smile. Your eyes turned into tiny slits as you flashed those perfect white teeth.

Damn, your smile.

Alright. How's this?

I need your reviews for me to get inspired and continue. *nishishishi~*

And thank you for reading my first Zorobin fanfic called, Please be mine.