Him
The sky is still aslumberous shade of gray when I tiptoe out of the apartment, and I'm careful not to make any noise as I pull the front door shut. Grandpa Paco is an early worm like me, and I want to be sure I'm safe somewhere else before he gets up.
The old man might be the most important person in my life, but I seriously need a break from his matchmaking schemes. I get that he's just concerned about my future, but I'm a die-hard romantic. I want to marry for love, and I won't settle for less.
Rain starts drizzling down as I hop on my bike, and a cool breeze plays with the golden locks of my hair as I pedal down the road. That it's sunny or gloomy never matters to me; there's nothing I love more than being outdoors. I can already feel my worries fading away while I listen to birds chirp and watch morning joggers pick up their pace as they seek shelter from the downpour.
The distant sound of waves crashing against the shore makes me miss home, but I remind myself that Isla de Flores is still way better compared to the rest of Miami. It might be a far cry from the Caribbean island I was born in, but IDF is still a small town at least, and it's cozy enough that I don't feel like I'm trapped within the dirty, crowded confines of a city.
A picturesque B&B with its own in-house cafe eventually catches my eye, and I gratefully slow down just as lightning flashes overhead.
The whole place is like a dream, with its arched windows revealing interior brick walls and copper-wired crystal bulbs hanging from tall, exposed ceilings. There are also flowers everywhere: vases of fresh blooms adorn whitewashed tabletops, vibrant clumps of bougainvillea cascade from multiple balconies, and raised garden beds of lavenders and touch-me-nots welcome guests by the entrance with scented greetings.
I wish I had the time to soak it all in, but since I'm the one currently in danger of being soaked and at risk of contracting pneumonia, I reluctantly turn away and park my bike in a hurry.
The words Mariposa House are carved on its heavy wooden doors, and my teeth start to chatter as soon as I step in. They obviously have the A/C on, and I quickly look around to look for some private place to dry myself.
Show yourself, toilet—-oh!
I catch a glimpse of a man seated at a corner table by the windows, and the rest of the world simply vanishes.
Is this what you call love at first sight?
His short raven-black curls are all tousled while the bronze muscles of his arms seem a flex away from bursting out of the thin sleeves of his shirt. He's so, so beautiful it's as if his every feature has been sculpted by angels, and I love it even more that his gaze is fully focused on the book that he's reading.
Am I dreaming, self?
It's just so rare to see a man enjoying an actual book in public these days, and a hot one at that. I look around to see if there could be another woman walking back to join him, but all I see is a guy texting behind the cash registrar.
If he really is alone, would it be safe for me to assume that he's also single? Can I just call him Mr. Mine from now on, and—-oh!
Have I made some kind of noise without being aware of it, and that's why Mr. Mine is suddenly staring at me?
I don't think I have, and I don't think I'm dreaming either.
He's really staring at me, and just when I start thinking it might be the same for him, and Mr. Mine has also fallen in love with me, that's the moment I see his gaze lower to my chest...and stay at my chest.
Oh gosh.
Does this mean Mr. Mine is quite the perv?
This should probably make me mad, but then I remember that I actually don't have any chest to speak of, and another gasp breaks out of my throat as soon as my glance drifts down to my body.
Oh my God, self!
Rain has turned my striped top semi-translucent, and I realize it's made me seem like I've been flaunting my boobs at Mr. Mine for the past thirty seconds.
I hurriedly cross my arms over my chest when Mr. Mine rises to his feet, but instead of walking towards me as I hoped feared, he disappears into a door behind the counter, and I immediately have this urge to knock my head against the wall.
You are such a fool, self!
I can't believe I almost convinced myself that someone like Mr. Mine has fallen head over heels for me at first sight. I used to think having oodles of 2D boyfriends is enough to give me a Ph.D on love, but that obviously isn't the case, and I now have my first lesson in real-life romance.
Just because the world stopped turning for you...doesn't mean the world also stopped turning for him.
Got that, self?
I fidget on my feet as my newfound knowledge on unrequited love makes me consider leaving. What's the point of prolonging my torment when he obviously doesn't find me attrac—-