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The pretty girl in the red sweater

golden hour every hour

By nadviisePublished 4 years ago • 2 min read

She was already there when I walked in.

She sat near the door.

That was probably the only time she looked at me.

I ordered my drink and went to sit at an empty table — nowhere near hers, mind you.

One thing to note is that I sat with my back to a window. She, too, had her back to a window, however, there was also one to her right. While being against the light usually results in a blurred silhouette, the way light shone on her painted an elegant picture that just illuminated the café.

Something about her soft look and the way her hair flowed down her shoulders in waves...

I don’t know.

She was very pretty.

I was still able to focus on my work — despite the loud baristas, the onslaught of student chatter, and the occasional recognition of someone I once knew. I carried on with my task for the next few hours, sparing looks over to the pretty girl, stealing glances from behind the words on the screen.

She was still by herself.

I did think about saying hello.

A small greeting or a simple nod of acknowledgement.

Unfortunately, every situation my mind foresaw had me sputtering something along the lines of,

“Hello! Sorry if this seems weird, but I just wanted to say that you’re very pretty~”

It is weird.

Don’t say that.

Why is it weird?

Because I’m a stranger.

She’s a stranger.

... well, it’s not like I was going to say anything anyway...

My time there was coming to a close and, as I finished what I had gone there to do, I debated whether I should go up to her.

I gathered my things and began to make my way toward her.

The light was falling upon her the same way it did when I walked in. She was looking down at her phone and I noticed her cheeks rise to her eyes — what I only assumed to be a smile or a chuckle behind the mask — before typing something in delight and for a split second I considered telling her how she must be a wonderful person to be around...

I veered left and walked out.

Of course, I did.

-nads;

You already knew how this was going to end. Why did you hope for something else?

excerpts

About the Creator

nadviise

nadine, or nad(s) | (she/they) ☕️

uh... this is where you can read more of my stuff. you don't have to though.

here's my carrd⁺˚⋆。°✩₊

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    Written by nadviise