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Tristan
'Shit' She swore under her breath and I looked up from my pasta to see her desperately trying to wind her spaghetti around a silver fork.
It had been five minutes and neither of us had said one word to each other. I couldn't understand why she looked as if she wanted to murder me but I decided to play it safe and not say anything.
I liked my head attached to my body.
But she looked so lost among all of these advanced spaghetti eating strangers that I had to give her a hand. By this point she was attempting to transfer the spaghetti into her mouth, but the pasta simply slid down her utensils and landed back on her plate with a gentle plop.
I decided to take action. 'You know, if you cut the pasta up with your knife, you fit it in your spoon a whole lot easier.' I murmured to her, extremely aware that the whole table was in complete silence.
'I know that,' she snapped back at me. 'If I needed your help, I would have said something.'
I rolled my eyes and put my own knife and fork down. 'I wasn't doing it for you. I just don't want to be the person sitting next to the girl with cheese and chive sauce all down her dress all evening.' I was an excellent liar when I wanted to be.
She looked mildly surprised and then frowned at me. 'Well I wouldn't want to inconvenience you,' Her voice picked up volume as it became layered with sarcasm.
'Well that's very kind of you Miss.' I relaxed my face into an easy grin at her angry expression.
'I should have known you'd be here.'
'Don't beat yourself up. You don't even know me, so there's no way you could have known where I'd be.' I replied.
'Actually there is. It's not my fault, it's just a quality I seem to have gained,' her blue eyes bore straight into my dusty ones. 'I seem to attract dicks.'
That was harsh.
This was unusual. Girls normally trip over their own feet to impress me, but the only one who I was interested in clearly hated me with a passion for no clear reason. Go figure.
Poppy
His mouth popped open into a cute O, before he snapped it shut clearly out of attempts to talk to me. Good, he was better off without me, whoever he was.
He was not done.
'I'm sorry.' He turned to face me and stopped eating once more.
I sighed, frustrated at his annoying persistence and place my spoon back in my bowl. 'Don't be.'
'Fine.' He ruffled a hand through his hair and creased his forehead in thought. 'I get it. You hate me. That's fine. I'm not too keen on you either.'
Lies. I could see his like for me in his eyes.
Two minutes passed, and I attempted to swallow some more of the disgusting pasta.
'Why are you sorry anyway?' I asked him.
He laughed at that. I loved the way he laughed. His head relaxed backwards and his eyes creased closed in happiness. His deep voice reverberated around the stone walls and his face seemed more natural with a grin plastered all over it.
I should have said no when he asked if I wanted to get out of here. I should have shot him down before he had even got out of the trenches. I should have ran away and never looked into those chocolate puppy dog eyes again.
So why didn't I?