Anyone ever had a huge helping of Rainbow Rowell feels? I have, therefore this story was written.

Park

"Thanks," Park said, taking his coffee from the bored looking barista with heavy makeup. She didn't even look at him, just kept snapping her gum and and examining her acrylic nails. "Have a nice day to you too," Park muttered as he made his way to his seat in the shop.

He opened his textbook, and pulled on the headphones to his Walkman, still holding his coffee in his other hand. As always, he felt a pang. Ever since Eleanor had gone, every Walkman, comic, and Smiths song made him remember the time spent with a beautiful, broken girl on a bus crowded with their idiotic peers.

He'd stopped trying to bring her back, but that didn't mean he stopped missing her.

He sat in the corner of the busy coffee shop, but even through the headphones, crying babies and whirring of the espresso machines, he heard it. His head turned slowly, and he felt the ground drop from under him.

Eleanor stood at the front of the line, finishing her order. She looked over her shoulder absentmindedly as she tucked a red curl behind her ear, giving Park a clear view of her face.

A shriek snapped Park out of his shock. He'd dropped his coffee onto a blond woman's high heels. Everyone in the shop instantly looked to see what the fuss was. Including Eleanor.

Her jaw dropped. "Park?" Her expression and tone were filled with disbelief. "Eleanor," he whispered, his voice an exhale of emotion as he reveled in the way her name rolled off his tongue.

Ignoring the angry blond woman, Park started forward, but his sneakered foot landed in the puddle of brown, and he skidded. Eleanor moved forward almost involuntarily to catch him, but he managed to grab the backs of two chairs. He steadied himself, then looked up at Eleanor as a big, stupid grin spread across his face.

"See? I'm still smooth as ever." She smiled, the kind of smile that lights up a person's whole face and makes you love them. Even though he already loved her. Park felt as though time couldn't have gone any slower as Eleanor weaved her way through the filled seats. In an instant, she had thrown her arms around him.

God, she still smelled like vanilla.

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