Be Mine

I decided to write for a bit using a prompt from a site I discovered (www.thewriteprompts.com). This is what came out.

He watched her from across the crowded cafeteria. She was sipping silently on a smoothie while presumably studying notes for a test. It was a mesmerizing sight. Normally, he wouldn't have even noticed her; the college campus was always full of students running to and from class, studying for midterms, typing away on their laptops. It was the contrast between her silky red stained lips and the bright green straw from her smoothie. It drew him in, completely. Like, as they say, a moth to a flame. He felt the moth's cousin flutter in his stomach.

 

She placed her drink on the table and turned a page in her book. He continued to gaze at her until she laughed silently at something in her book. She looked up in his direction. The soft dimples and the way her eyes lit up convinced him that he had to meet her. He stood, went to the trash bins to empty his lunch.

 

He debated in his mind about what he could say to her. Obviously I can't just walk up and say: "Hey, I saw you from across the room. You're stunning." That might come off as creepy. He scratched his head, thinking of another option. Maybe I could pretend to be in the same class as her, sneak a peek at her book first. But if she started talking about the class, I might look like a moron when I don't know what she is talking about. He placed his empty tray on the designated rack. F**k. What if she thinks I'm a stalker or something. He turned around she was right in front him him.

 

"Hi." She spoke softly.

 

"Oh, hey." He said, trying to act casual and cool.

 

"My friend told me that she saw you staring at me."

 

"I'm sorry, I--" He stammered. Oh crap, she thinks I'm a creep.

 

"Don't apologize. She said it was a good stare." She smiled, her bright lips contrasting again with the green of her eyes. 

 

"A good stare?" His nerves were usually a non-issue when talking to the other sex, but something about her was different from other girls. 

 

"Yeah, a good stare. She insisted that you were falling in love with me." She held out a napkin. "Here. Give me a call sometime; maybe we can get together for a coffee or something." She walked away, his jaw dropped slightly . What the hell just happened? 

 

He looked at the napkin, smiled, and left the cafeteria. Once in his car, he threw the napkin on the passenger seat next to him. It read: "Be mine?" with her number underneath. I suppose I have a valentine after all.

Author's Note

Be honest, but constructive criticism please. I am new at 'writing'.