Chapter 4 – The Loveseat

Dreamer

After snapping out of my fleeting reverie, Sore Eyes' last comment registered and I huffed. He thought I had run away from them. He basically called me out. Yes, it was true, but it wasn't okay that he knew.

Did he also tell his friends? Did Teen Gaspard know?

No!!

I was just about to say it was cocky of him to assume I'd left because of them, but the giant had already turned to leave. I followed him with my eyes and watched him out the window as he climbed his motorcycle and left.

I scowled at my monitor. I turned off my computer and packed my things. I wasn't going to get anything done today. I felt frustrated. I usually got cranky when I was so pumped to write and things got in the way—homework, chores, family reunions, shallow cheerleaders, disapproving coffee servers.

Today, it wasn't any of those things.

I was annoyed because while Teen Gaspard's eyes were extraordinary, Sore Eyes did not have ugly mismatched eyes.

I was caught off guard by the giant's otherworldly eyes. They were dark green and luminous with specks of gold. They were enthralling. Unlike my own green pair that had a darker blue rim, gold edged his irises and his eyes seemed to glow.

I laughed at myself when I thought about how I was describing his eyes. It was impossible. It was unlikely for a human to have that eye color combination.

It was just as impossible as the rows of sharp teeth I thought I saw when he'd smiled.

I blamed the momentary vision on too much coffee and my hyperactive imagination, but I filed the image away for future use. Sore Eyes—or whatever it was I saw earlier—could be an inspiration for an interesting monstrosity.

I stretched my back and winced when my tailbone hit the hard seat. The giant was right. The chairs in the teahouse were uncomfortable.

**

I returned to Dawn's Diner earlier the following day. The place was still empty. I was planning to order pancakes and bacon then I could skip lunch, but remembering the judgment I went through yesterday, I considered getting something lighter.

Normally, I didn't care, but I wanted to start positive today. I ordered a tall macchiato and toasted bread instead and Dana—looks like she's on the first shift—didn't frown upon my choices this time.

I decided to sit at the back of the café where I hoped no one would see me. I stumbled upon the two-seater curved booth behind a low partition at the back when I was looking for the best spot earlier. There were no other customers when I got here so I got to survey the café and choose the best seat. No way was I hurting my tailbone again.

I got settled in the comfortable chair, pulling the small round metal table closer to me. I had a feeling couples used the couch as a loveseat during Friday night dates.

Ugh.

I couldn't think about that now. It was time to write. No distractions.

I wanted to camp there the entire morning and complete at least two chapters of my story. I also had to get my beast in print although after the past hours, I was thinking of making a few modifications. Perhaps the hue. Maybe gold would blend well.

I had just finished a chapter when I reached for my cup and realized it was empty. I was on a roll, but I needed something stronger. The words and images were whirling in my head. It was one of those days I wished there was an application I could use that would record all my random ideas and magically generate my story. I'd probably be on my second book by now and not just the second chapter.

I was usually my worst critic—fine, I was my only critic since I hadn't let anyone else read my material—but for the time being, I was happy with how the descriptions were going.

The beast stared out of the cave, its golden eyes glowing in the gloom.

I was reading the last lines I'd typed, my eyes focused on the screen even as I was getting ready to stand up to buy another drink. It was difficult to let go, but I also needed to run to the little girls' room before refueling again.

"Oops! Sorry. Excuse me," I mumbled. I didn't realize there was someone standing right behind the wall and I accidentally stepped on his foot. I raised my head to apologize properly only to find out I'd walked right into a towering god who was over a foot taller than I was.

My cheeks felt hot. My lips felt numb. Then I started feeling lightheaded.

Breathe, Selene.

"Steady there," Teen Gaspard said, his voice deep and playful, as he held my shoulder.

He's touching my shoulder!

He's smiling at me.

He's smiling at me!!

I tried not to drool as I stared at his straight white teeth. They seemed to twinkle in the soft light of the small café, but it could've been my imagination again or my clear need for more coffee. Or air. And yes, those grooves were deep slashes of outrageously attractive dimples.

Teen Gaspard was... unreal. And if I didn't start moving—or at least breathing—I was going to pass out at his gorgeous feet.

"Sorry." I thought that's what I said—again—as I excused myself to head toward the counter. My bladder forgot it was full.

Teen Gaspard moved to the table that was right behind the partition where I had set up. I had been so engrossed with my work, I didn't even notice the other customers enter the diner.

How could I have missed Teen Gaspard sitting at the next table?! Thank God, I didn't buy pancakes and bacon. I could've been caught swimming in syrup and grease!

There was already someone else in the booth the god occupied—the giant with the golden green eyes. He wasn't wearing his shades today. I quickly glanced in his direction to see his eyes and prove to myself that the golden outline I saw yesterday was just a figment of my imagination, but the giant had his head down. He was busy reading the menu and I didn't want to be caught staring at him.

I didn't want to be caught staring at Teen Gaspard as well because my eyes were obviously headed toward him.

Must stop ogling the god!

Hmmm... there had been three of them yesterday. The boy who had tagged along was probably still asleep.

Now that I was standing at the counter, my bladder decided to remind me it was about to burst. I went to the washroom to relieve and collect myself. Breathe in. Breathe out. Comb hair. I hadn't brought a comb. Apply lip gloss. I hadn't packed one either. Make sure my breath didn't stink and I didn't have morning stars.

I couldn't stay in the girls' room too long. I didn't want Teen Gaspard thinking I had to do more than pee.

Geez. What was I thinking? It wasn't as if he were out there waiting for me. I needed to wake up from this little fantasy.

I stepped out of the restroom and headed to the counter to order a mocha cappuccino when I felt someone step next to me. I hoped it wasn't a cheerleader or any of the twin towers; otherwise, I'd feel obliged to get brewed coffee instead.

I glanced to my side and was relieved to see it was the kid from yesterday. He was just a little taller than I was. He was fair-haired with light blue eyes. He grinned at me and the cutest dimples appeared on his cheeks. He looked like a poster boy for Hallmark, a cherub without wings.

The kid gestured for me to order.

I couldn't help smiling back at the angel and I opted to get what I'd really wanted. "A frozen mocha cappuccino, please."

The kid's smile grew wider and he told the server, "I'll get the same, please."

He was cute and he practiced common courtesy. His parents would be proud.

I grinned as I paid for my drink. The kid was so adorable. I had to stop myself from pinching his cheeks or ruffling his hair. I smiled at the kid one last time then I turned to go back to my table.

I'd put on my earphones and tried to relax. Time to focus. Or not. If I leaned on the wall, I could imagine him leaning on the other side. I could feel his warmth. Wait... that's my face.

This was really pathetic.

I hadn't even begun to warm my seat for a minute when the blond angel sat opposite me, startling me. He had pulled a red stool from his table and was now looking at me over my netbook.

"This is really good!" he said cheerfully. He leaned forward and asked, "What are you writing about?"

I flushed and had to stop myself from slamming my netbook shut. I had opened a new file and found myself fixating on a certain silver-eyed hottie. I wasn't good at these things and I was usually better off painting gore so when inspiration literally almost knocked me over earlier, I knew I had to note down what I could.

I had completed an entire paragraph describing the pair of plated pools any normal girl could drown in and I had just started a line about his luscious lips that were so tempting to bite when the cutie interrupted my rather uninhibited theme. Yay to the star-struck wallflower writing lines for the cheesiest romance novel in existence.

"Uh... nothing!" I exclaimed guiltily as I pulled out my earphones. "Just something for... school."

"Are you writing your report on Da Vinci's influence on different communities? I am yet to start on my paper," the angel said.

I wondered why the kid was asking me about a seventh grade report.

The giant chuckled as he stood up to get water from the counter. The angel looked at his friend in shock as if he had never heard him laugh before.

I frowned at the giant who'd returned and was now leaning on the low wall. I openly stared at his eyes although it was giving me a crick in the neck because he was so tall.

His eyes were green with coppery specks. His irises were rimmed with black, not gold like I had initially thought. There was nothing extraordinary about the giant's eyes. The sun had probably played with my sight yesterday.

He held a glass of water and he took a sip even though he was still grinning. No fangs today. Just straight white teeth like his friend. Another delusion yesterday.

"You seem pretty passionate about schoolwork. You were buried in your device yesterday," Sore Eyes remarked, his voice so low I barely heard him.

The angel inched closer to me. "Would you mind if I took a peek at your report?"

The giant smirked.

I frowned at the two. Why were they talking to me?

Then I remembered Sore Eyes telling me they'd been watching me yesterday. They saw me devour my sandwich and the giant had guessed I'd run away.

I was starting to feel queasy. I shook my head at the angel because no way was I showing him my description of his friend.

Then, to my utter horror, Teen Gaspard stood up and slid next to me.

On the couch that could only fit two.

On the love seat!

And it wasn't even Friday yet.

What was happening? Was I getting pranked?

Teen Gaspard was facing me, a few inches separating us, and seriously, these butterflies they talked about in books were no fun. They felt like a million rabid insects beating at my chest, wanting to get out. I hoped no one could hear the pounding all those insects with all those legs were making.

"Don't mind my brothers. They're still learning their manners. I'm Markus Weaver by the way," Teen Gaspard said as he extended his hand to shake mine. I just stared at his hand. His fingers were long and slender, the nails clear and sexy.

Who ever thought fingernails could be sexy?!

When I realized I'd been staring at Markus' hand like an idiot, I discreetly wiped my suddenly clammy hand on my pant leg and gave him a quick but firm shake.

I withdrew my hand, but Markus pressed it and held it a second longer. Or it could've been me fantasizing about it. As it was, I couldn't believe he was sitting next to me, talking to me. I could be dreaming.

"I'm Francis," the angel said cheerfully. He didn't shake my hand, but gave me another big smile. I smiled back at him again.

"Ice," the giant muttered. His smirk was gone.

I looked from one boy to another. Grey eyes, blue eyes, green eyes—black, blond, brown—none of them resembled the other, but I was sure I heard Markus say they were brothers. I had thought they were just friends hanging out together despite the age gap between the two towers and the kid.

Markus seemed to have read my mind when he said, "These two are adopted."

"For real?" I whispered. They were talking with me. He was talking with me. I was awake. I looked around and couldn't help thinking that this was a prank being pulled by the cheerleaders from yesterday.

"Just kidding," Markus said. "Unfair genetics perhaps?"

I raised an eyebrow. What was happening? No one paid me any attention before. I liked being invisible. I didn't have time to be the center of anyone's joke.

I started to withdraw and considered packing up again and just complete writing my story at home, but Markus gave me one of his megawatt smiles and asked, "What's your name?"

I realized—belatedly again—that they had given me their names but I didn't give them mine. I hedged for a bit, but accepted it would be dumb not to tell them. It wasn't like my name was a big secret.

"Selene Fisher," I said quietly.

"Selene," Markus drawled, "Goddess of the moon. Interesting."

I felt a shiver crawl down my spine when I heard Markus say my name and its meaning. I wasn't able to stop myself from countering, "Markus. God of fertility."

I could not believe I said that out loud!

I was mortified, but Markus just laughed and said, "Impressive. You know your mythology." He moved closer and my breath hitched in my throat.

I could listen to his voice and stare at his eyes all day.

From a distance. I didn't do too well when it's up close and personal. I was feeling woozier than earlier. I tried breathing through my nose.

I could not stop myself from staring at his eyes though. They appeared endless like space. I could float in them.

"The report you're doing... it's not about Da Vinci, is it?"

Oh! Back to earth. Surrounded by other people. Ice had asked a question.

"No," I answered honestly. At least Francis would now stop asking me to help him with his report.

"You're writing a story," Ice said confidently. Then, "For sixth grade Creative Writing?"

What? Did I hear him correctly?

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Sixth grade. Creative Writing," he said a little more slowly.

Affronted, I retorted just as deliberately, "I'm in high school."

Ice furrowed his brows then moved to sit on my other side. I was now crammed between the two towers. Gaspard... err Markus looked amused. Ice looked incredulous. "No way. How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen and I'm in 11th grade," I answered, grasping why they were being nice earlier. They had thought I was a little kid alone in the café waiting for my gorgeous older sister to fetch me. Maybe they thought I could be a playmate for their kid brother.

I shook my head and backtracked a bit. I didn't have an older sister. I didn't know where the bitterness came from. Perhaps I'd been surrounded by too many cheerleaders the past years.

"Which school do you go to?" Francis asked.

"Prometheus High," I replied.

Ice choked on the water he had just gulped.

Francis smiled, excited with the new piece of information. "We go to the same school. You and Ice are on the same batch."

I looked skeptically at the giant who was sitting in my personal space. "Aren't you a little too old to be in 11th grade?"

Markus laughed loudly at that. "Yes, sweetheart. Ice is a little... delayed."

Did the god just call me sweetheart?! I blushed to my roots.

Ice glowered at his brother and growled, "Says the college freshman who is several millennia too old."

"What?" I asked, confused.

I looked at Markus who was smirking at his brother.

Ice tapped my shoulder, calling my attention and gritted out, "I am just sixteen."

"You're just sixteen? Are you sure?" I asked in disbelief. Ice looked like he worked as a bouncer at night.

"Are you sure you're fifteen?" Ice retorted. "You look like you're still in middle school."

I knew that I was yet to fill out and maybe I was slightly vertically challenged, but at least I didn't look like an ogre. I scowled at Ice and decided to get back to writing. I shove him so I could have more space. Thankfully, he removed himself from the booth and went back to leaning on the partition. He should just return to their table.

I was so annoyed at the moment I didn't care if there was a gorgeous god sitting beside me and an adorable angel in front of me. For all I knew, they were just a hallucination created by my mind to help me survive not middle school, but high school.

I could feel Markus looking at me though. He cleared his throat, but I continued to work at my computer pretending that the three of them didn't exist.

Markus sighed, cleared his throat once again and placed his hand on the table next to my netbook. Then he drawled, "I wish I were still in high school."

I started. I couldn't help but turn to look at Markus. He was still there. He was real. His voice was like silk. My fingers shook over the keyboard as I worked on my original story. I had closed the one about him. If he read that... well, that was not going to happen.

I pressed Save in case I accidentally deleted my file. It was impossible to concentrate on my work when my birthday gift arrived several months early.

Markus inched closer to me and said, "I'm studying Software Engineering in Hephaestus University. It's a great institute. You should enroll there when you graduate."

I could only nod. If this were a dream, I didn't mind getting a few more minutes before I woke up. I stared at Markus. He was so beautiful. It wasn't fair for a man to have such striking eyes fringed with thick lashes, a perfect aquiline nose, a full kissable pair of lips and a strong jawline. He looked like a Greek god.

I couldn't believe he was talking, and dare I imagine flirting, with me. These things never happened to me. One time, I thought the class nerd was going to ask me out, but he actually wanted to get Yvonne's number from me. If I didn't pass a nerd's standard, I couldn't imagine guys like Markus being interested in me. Maybe it was a bet like the typical story. That would be annoying, but I would take advantage of it. Who knew maybe we'd be friends, he'd take me to next year's graduation ball and I'd have my fairy tale.

A girl could dream.