Every Girl's Dream
A/N A couple of very short meeting points for these two. Like the little things you get on Instagram about lesbian relationship goals. Could be anyone, just left to your imagination. Modern AU. Xx
England, 2020
She sits opposite me, she is staring loosely with her eyes. Peaking from the top of her magazine in an attempt to avoid my gaze. I can see her crossing her legs awkwardly and rearranging her hair again; there is a strand or two twiddled around her fingers as she dawdles. She gets up, I suppose it's her appointment, but no name is called. She sits back down, next to me though. Standing her magazine back up to read, she keeps flicking the pages, I can see she is struggling to find something. I want to help, but I don't want to disrupt her routine. My gaze wanders over her page, I feel like I'm staring, it's a game we're playing, we are both pretending the other isn't there. That we are both alone. She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a stick of lip balm, every girl's tool of seduction. She applies liberally, but I can smell it now, all I want is to take her in my arms and kiss it off. But I can't. Then I'd loose. Two can play at that game. I pull out my own lip balm, cherry and very pungent. Shiny as well, hopefully this will entice her. Mine has a stick to apply with, it spreads the smell further, filling the small waiting room. She drops her magazine, she's got it now.
I've won.
Her head turns sharply towards me, her gaze piercing and blue, deep ocean eyes that plunge far into mine, a depth no one has ever reached with just a look.
"So, you wanna go on a date?" She asks, her voice sweet as sugar, addictive like cake, rich chocolate cake you can never quite get enough of.
"Maybe, depends, will you be there?" I reply, I am playful with my words. A smile praying upon my newly glossed lips.
She smiles in return, then a smirk, a slight giggle, "yes, I'll be there, but will you?" She takes out a card and a pen from her bag. It is blue ink and light blue paper, she writes her phone number and deposits it in my awaiting hand; before she gets up and goes. Her name is called, she takes her bag and her coat and leaves me sitting, dumbfounded.
She just said one thing to me as she left, just in passing, "call me."