The first in a series of one-shots revolving a café, a Wednesday, and our lovely FourTris.
some decisions you regret, some decisions you loathe. and some decisions, you're glad
It's not the first time they're noticing each other when he slides into the chair opposite hers, flashing her a small smile. She's caught glimpses of azure eyes and snaking flames; he's seen flashes of dull blonde hair and graphite birds. She smiles back at him tentatively, contemplating talking to him before making a split-second decision and saying, "Tris."
He looks up, his blue, blue eyes confused behind his dorky glasses, letting out a "Huh?"
"My name," she says. "It's Tris," now wondering whether she should have just kept her mouth shut and carried on with her own business.
Her doubts are wiped away when he gives her that smile again, the one that sends her stomach into a flurry. Most hot guys had an arrogant smile, like they'd been told they were good-looking from a young age, but his was shy, like he was surprised you even bothered to look at him.
"I'm Fo-" Four, he's about to say, but then he decides it's time to leave behind that name and leave behind that identity and says instead, "Tobias."
And she's glad she decided to talk to him as she gives him a full, toothy smile unlike the fleeting one earlier and repeats, "Tobias."
:::
Tori's is unusually crowded that day, and Tobias's eyes widen fractionally as he takes in the chattering groups at almost every table. He's annoyed because the typically calm and serene café is the only place he can code in peace. Zeke always has a girl over, or contradictorily, is pining over Shauna – also, the fact that the place has free WiFi and sells scrumptious chocolate cake doesn't hurt.
He weighs his options: he doesn't know how to navigate the city in search of another joint where he can code peacefully for a while, so it's either here or back to the apartment two blocks away that he shares with Zeke.
Tobias lets out a sigh and starts weaving through the rows of tables, unable to find a single unoccupied one. Finally, he gives up and makes his way towards Tori, who's watching him from behind the counter with a smirk.
"Do you mind sharing?" she asks, wiping off on a towel before walking off, not checking to see if he's following or not.
Tobias quickens his strides, clutching his laptop as he grumbles, "As long as they don't try to talk to me."
He follows her to a two-seater table where a blonde girl, no, the blonde girl, the one he'd seen so many times in passing, was already seated, scribbling furiously in her notebook, the gray one with the black birds sketched in pencil all over the cover.
She looks up as he sets his laptop down and he's thinking maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she tried to talk to him after all.
.
.
It's eight years later, and he's standing in a tux at the head of a table, one hand clutching Tris's, the other balancing a flute of champagne.
And he's glad the café was crowded that Wednesday, glad Tori led him over to Tris's table, and they're toasting to her for that day and the years that followed, for the identical rings on their fingers.
More chapters to come. Please leave a review!
xo