HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, JEN! TIS ME. YOUR ADMIRER. I love you endlessly. I am going to post Part 2 of this so so so soon, I promise, I just wanted to make sure it was perfect before I did. Keep your eyes peeled. Enjoy this little introductory taster of the adventure these two are about to go on.
Barcelona only ever existed in the confines of the magazines in her mother's waiting room when she was growing up. Regina would stare at the pictures enthusiastically, enthralled by the bright blue skies and gorgeous sandy beaches. As she grew older, the architecture of small European cities stole her heart; she'd read for hours upon hours about the development and growth of it all.
Up until four days ago, she only things she had ever had the privilege of seeing with her own two eyes were the tall skyscrapers of her childhood home, Manhattan, and the plethora of styles scattered along the streets of London, where she has been living for the last year and a half.
Travelling to the beautiful city of Barcelona came unexpectedly, under circumstances she wishes she could change, but as that is out of her control, she decided this morning that she would wander around the city that once stole her heart. It's later in the day now, the bright oranges of sunset glowing against the stone of the buildings, and her heart is full as she stands under one particular structure that hasn't failed once at making her breathless.
Regina find herself drawn to Barcelona's Gothic Quarter; the architecture has her entirely smitten and mesmerised. She has stepped off the side on a narrow street, more of an alleyway really, eyes fixed to El Pont del Bisbe, Bishop's Bridge, above her. It's beautiful, absolutely stunning, and drawing the attention of every tourist walking by, though she seems the most invested. She's feeling the cold against her shoulders now that the sun is retreating, she probably should have brought a small cardigan to protect her bare skin from the chill, especially given that her outfit of choice this morning was a black strapless dress. The outfit choice went almost unnoticed when the sun was beaming from directly above her, but she gives herself time to stare a bit longer.
A bit longer goes on for longer than she has expected, it has to have been at least fifteen minutes since she stopped to gaze upward, and the last thing she is expecting is the gentlest of nudges against her right arm.
A man has stopped beside her, his eyes trained up to where she has been looking as he adopts a stance completely identical to hers - crossed arms, weight shifted on one leg. He peers down to her suspicious gaze and smirks cheekily before looking back up to the bridge. Regina considers saying something but truly hasn't a clue where to even begin.
Luckily, her curious stranger breaks the silence with, "I just had to see what could make a person look up like that."
Craning her neck, she looks back to the metal architecture again, "Like what?" she asks, humouring him.
"With love in your eyes," he says, not daring to shy away from what had transfixed her so. His answer causes her lips to twitch into the softest smile and cause a slight pinkening of her cheeks. "You know, I've passed this bridge every day for three days and not once did I ever think to stop and actually look at it."
Regina shrugs, falling into easy conversation with him, "Easily done. Everyone's so fast paced nowadays." He hums his agreement, shifting his weight onto his other leg, and the book worm in her begins to itch. She wonders if he would be interested in the little bits and pieces of information she knows and, judging by the way he is still staring, she decides that maybe she can take a chance on it. "There's a skull and dagger underneath the walkway. Legend says that if someone were to remove the dagger then the entire city of Barcelona would be destroyed."
For the first time, he focuses on her face, the warmth of her brown eyes meeting the welcoming chill of his blue, and says, "Well, then I think it's safe to say that we should avoid removing any daggers from skulls. Especially on a day with a sunset as gorgeous as this."
Smiling politely, she breathes an agreeing, Absolutely, before he kindly offers her his hand in a greeting. "Robin," he announces brightly, smiling and exposing her to two defined dimples that could easily draw her in as much as the bridge above them.
She slips her hand into his, "Regina. Is this your first time in Barcelona?"
He squeezes into her palm before letting it go, telling her, "No, I did come once or twice as a boy. But I don't remember much other than a lot more sunshine than I was used to and all the ice cream I could dream of. Little Robin didn't know what he was missing with Sangria."
Regina chuckles gently, "Are you suggesting that Sangria is better than ice cream?"
One of his eyebrows raises at her challenge, countering with, "Are you suggesting that it's not?" She shrugs with an exaggerated smile, bearing all of her teeth, and he laughs beautifully, uttering, "I suppose I can forgive that," before shoving his hands into the pockets of his brown shorts.
"Thank goodness," she huffs, feigning worry with a hand to her heart. "Are you enjoying your trip so far?" She asks, surprisingly easily considering she's usually wary of strangers, but there's just something about him that charms her comfortability into shining brightly.
"I was," he tells her, reaching up to rub against the back of his neck and with a hint of embarrassment, he admits, "I'm actually lost. Not lost lost. I just have no idea where my mates are. I'm here on a Stag and, well, I lost the Stag."
"The Stag?" she asks curiously, tilting her head inquisitively. His accent is easy enough to follow, but, despite living in London for over a year now, her knowledge of the British language is still a little rusty.
"Ah," he realises that she's clueless, and he ponders for a moment, "I'm not sure what you call them. When people get married, the bride and groom go on a trip before the wedding and-"
"Oh," she understands. "You're here for a bachelor party. And you've lost the bachelor?"
"I am willing to trust that you are correct," he smiles with a curt nod. "I decided this morning to be the sensible one and not drink today and now they could be anywhere."
"Well, that explains the shirt…" she says, pointing to his extremely odd attire. While it initially piqued her interest, she decided she best be blissfully ignorant of a deep green coloured polyester shirt with a brightly printed white heart in the centre, the names John and Lacey printed on either side.
"Bollocks," he hisses, immediately embarrassed, as his eyes clenched closed. With a deep groan of a sigh when he admits, "I forgot about that." He shuns his body of the offending shirt, prepared with a plain white black button-up shirt underneath.
"Not your idea then?" She asks, pressing her fingers to her lips to keep any more of a laugh from slipping through.
"Definitely not," he exhales, holding the scrunched fabric in his hands. "My mate Will went all out for this trip. Maybe a little bit too much."
"Maybe just a little," she smirks, pinching her fingers as close together as she can without having them touch, enjoying the way her laughter is just flowing with him.
"And what about you, Regina?" He asks her. "What brings you to Barcelona? Let me guess, girls trip, right?" Her shoulders slump heavily from the overcomplicated answer that accompanies that question, and it doesn't go unnoticed. "That bad?"
"No," she sighs, adding a tight-lipped smile for good measure. "Good guess, I'm on a girls trip. One of us has had a rather rough month so we all thought coming here together would take their mind off of it."
"And has it?"
She hums in thought, "Perhaps a little. I just personally have trouble staying locked up for days at a time constantly suffering from a hangover. Don't get me wrong, I am a fun person, but we had been going hard."
"I can understand that," Robin agrees, "Hence my break from the heavy drinking today. I think if I had one more full day my liver was going to shut down in protest."
"That would be bad," she adds, crossing her arms over her chest now that the sun is barely ever a glimmer on the horizon anymore, distracted now from the cold night air. She considers the best way to end this conversation and be on her way, but she's torn between being curious to know more about him, not wanting to be rude, and the desire to be warm again.
"There is a wonderful tavern at the end of the alleyway," he says shyly. "I don't want to be too forward, but I am really enjoying your company. I'd be happy to buy you a single drink to send off the sun and welcome the moonlight."
She barely even considers it for more than a beat before she's nodding her head, likely so cold that her tightening skin answered for her. His smile is sweet as they start walking the way he had indicated in dead silence. Her teeth are clenched together tightly as a way to forget about the chilly wind colliding with her, so much that she didn't even notice Robin shedding his black shirt, putting the embarrassing green tee back on and dropping the warm black fabric over her shoulders.
"You're freezing," he tells her.
"Oh, you don't need to do that," she tries to give the shirt back but he refuses to let her. "I'm fine really."
"I would loathe my very existence if I made you walk in the cold when I had an alternative option," he says, not budging on the matter as he walks her towards a small, enclosed doorway.
He waits a moment, letting her scope the place out through the small window in the door. It looks decent and friendly enough, and when she nods for him to go ahead with opening the door, she follows inside.
Robin saunters off the bar, leaving Regina to settle at their cosy table in the shade and wait for him to return, and when he does he has two ice cold beers expertly clutched between his fingers. He places one in front of her and her eyebrow raises before she has a second to even register it.
"Assuming that I drink beer is rather bold of you," she teases, twirling the glass bottle on the hardwood of the table. "Most people assume a wine, usually red."
He swigs from his own with a smug smile, more than happily telling her, "I won't lie, I thought about it, but you're giving me beer vibes."
"Beer vibes?" She asks, amused as she inspects the unknown beer label.
"I can see you at some classy event, a glass of wine in your hand," he offers, smirking as he adds, "but deep in your mind you are dreaming of the refreshing beer you could be drinking instead."
She almost outright laughs at his accuracy, remembering every single sickly mouthful of wine she has gulped at one of her mother's functions. She picks up the bottle finally, allowing herself a sip from it and something about the way he smiles proudly warms her chest.
"Don't let it go to your head," she warns, a slight twitch of smile showing when he chuckles. "Though I'm curious to know if you're really just that intuitive or if I wear a lot more on my sleeve than I think I do."
"I'm intuitive, always have been."
She hums into another sip from the beverage, allowing for a surprisingly comfortable beat of silent until they both smiles tightly at one another. "Where do you think your friends have gotten off to?"
"I couldn't even hazard a guess," he replies with a slight shrug, dropping his elbows to the table. "Though I can't say I'm upset that they got a little lost along the way. What about your girls? What were their plans today?"
She shrugs as he did, pursing her lips a little bit, before laughing and admitting, "Drinking. They are most likely still at the hotel, I imagine. There's a pool and a rooftop bar, they don't need much more to be content."
"But you do," he says.
"There you go being all intuitive again," she grins, relaxing a bit and leaning back into her chair. Her feet are aching slightly, the thousands of steps she has travelled slowly creeping up on her. "I have wanted to come to Barcelona since I was a teenager, I didn't want to spend it all couped up in the bar, even if that was the intention of the trip."
"It's nice to get out and explore sometimes," he says, raising his beer bottle into the centre of the table, ready for a clink, "You never know, you might bump into a lovely person who makes being lost seem a little less daunting."
She smiles softly, accepting his small private toast, admitting, "I had been feeling a little lonely today if I'm being honest. I love every single one of my friends to death, but it would have been nice if some of them wanted to come with me today."
"You'd mentioned your friend before," Robin brings up inquisitively. "Was she having fun today?"
She can see what he's trying to do, maybe try to remind her that the trip was to help this friend, but little does he know that there is a bit more to it than she initially let on.
"She is now," he smiles sadly and she expects him to act shocked or, at the very least, confused.
Instead, he offers her a warm smile and, "Whoever it was. They are an idiot."
"I don't know what you mean," she says truthfully, not having expected the conversation to take the turn it did.
"Whoever it was that broke your heart," he approaches gently. "They are an idiot."
"Wow," she barely whispers, nervously gulping her beer down. "Has it been that obvious that I'm miserable?"
"Not quite," he explains. "Though I noticed that something might have been weighing down your heart when you were staring at that bridge. It's what made me stop."
"I thought you said it was the way I was looking at it," she reminds him, "With love in my eyes?"
"And I stand by that," he counters. "But there was also a wash of relief on your face, like maybe you'd been dreaming of seeing that bridge your whole life but something in it made you feel like you would never set eyes on it."
"Intuitive," she says, barely a whisper and trying not to let the glistening of her eyes show now that he's all but disclose everything that was on her mind once upon a time.
"I'm really happy you got to see it, Regina," he smiles softly, finishing off what is left in his beer bottle, encouraging her to do the same. "I should be off to find out what mischief my merry men have been up to."
She nods, both standing from their small table at the same time and heading for that heavy tavern door.
"I'm this way," she says, pointing in the direction that they walked from.
"Would you like me to accompany you back?" He offers, more than happy to walk with her a bit more.
"I'm really not that far, besides your friends are sure to be missing your absence," she says, already walking away. She turns to face him, taking a few steps backwards, "I was really nice to meet you."
His smile is wide and bright when he suggests with a glint in his eye, "Maybe fate will have us meet again? Maybe even at the same time tomorrow?"
Her cheeks turn a rosy pink, thankfully hidden by the darkness in the sky, and she smirks at his boldness, "Maybe."
Then she remembers about his shirt, quickly taking it off and offering it back to him, but once again he refuses. "Keep it for the walk back, it's even colder now. And maybe fate will be even kinder to us knowing that you need to return my shirt at some point."
"Does this act work for all the ladies?" Regina jokes, happily wrapping the shirt back around her body.
"We'll find out tomorrow, I guess," he winks, turning away with a wave over his shoulder as he disappears into the evergrowing group of people out for a fun evening.
"I guess," she smiles wildly to herself, entirely smitten and excited to have quite a story to tell her girls when she gets back.