Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
With my noise-canceling headphones playing StrayKids’s “Maniac” into my ears, I don’t hear him approach, but my peripheral vision picks up the fact that he’s close enough his legs are just above the top of my laptop screen. Even through my K-Pop music, I can clearly hear my heartbeat increase, my hands beginning to shake as my fingers tremble on my keyboard. I’m not typing anything at the moment, but I have my fingers in proper position across the middle row of letters, both thumbs on the spacebar like I was taught in Keyboarding back in high school. My breaths are shallow, and my throat won’t listen to my brain when it tells it to swallow or I’m going to literally drool on my computer.
I feel my heart racing, the elastic of my sports bra suddenly too tight around my ribs as my breaths become quicker. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to lift my eyes to look at him up close. He damn near made me moan out loud the second I saw him step into the café, apparently looking for me over on the couches beneath the windows. Which I guess would make sense, a writer working on the comfy leather sofas. But it’s too bright over there for me. I prefer it over here in the darker corner by the bar—not to be closer to the alcohol, even though I could really use a drink at the moment, but because I don’t have a view of the parking lot or the many TV screens around the space. Meaning fewer distractions.
I lift my eyes just enough that they’re aligned with my laptop’s camera at the very top and centered in the screen. It allows my peripherals to absorb him setting his laptop and big water bottle on the table nearest me but mostly behind a rectangular column that stands from the cream-tiled floor to the white ceiling.
I’m concentrating so hard on watching him but not actually looking at him that I jump when my phone dings with a notification through my headphones, my fingers hitting a few keys and typing gibberish on the screen. I grab my phone from beside me and read the message quickly, knowing it’s from him.
RomanticSadistLL:
Getting a drink then I’ve got errands to do
Good. That’s good. I need to write, and there’s no way I’d be able to do that if he decided to chill at a table just a few feet away from me to do his own work or something. But at the same time, even though I’m growing nauseous with anxiety at his real-life closeness, I’m disappointed he won’t be nearby for very long.
I play it cool like I’ve been trying to all day with him, when it’s the furthest thing from what I feel.
WillDive4Plants:
Vegan PB&B shake with espresso is the best.
I can feel him walk away, toward the line of refrigerators along the wall before it reaches the counter, like his presence alone is a physical touch.
RomanticSadistLL:
LOL I'm sure. But not that healthy, just caffeine.
I read the message a few times, trying to make sense of it. Does he mean the shake isn’t good for anything but the caffeine?
Before I can think of a response, three messages come in, rapid-fire.
RomanticSadistLL:
If I whisper to you through those headphones, can you hear? 😈
I'm just going to tell you good job.
Without the kiss of course
Jesus Christ. He wants to whisper to me? Which means he’d have to get close to me in order to do that, especially if he’s wondering if I’ll hear him with my headphones still on. Like… not just sit beside me, but like… lean in and speak right next to my ear.
I swallow thickly, my anxiety setting off my defense mechanism to make jokes and kid around instead of sprinting out the exit door.
WillDive4Plants:
I have Korean hotties singing to me at the moment, so no.
RomanticSadistLL:
Ahhh Lucky girl. Thought you might want more to visualize for your writing.
I smile at that, but the muscles controlling my expression are acting like I’ve hooked them up to a TENS unit. What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I having a seizure? He’s still up at the register, waiting in line to buy his drink, so I feel safe enough to be honest about my nervousness.
WillDive4Plants:
I'm having problems controlling my face. Is that normal? 😂
And then my undeniable urge to relieve my stress through humor takes over my fingers yet again.
WillDive4Plants:
And it's vegan! What do you mean the shake’s not healthy?! I drink those fuckers every day!!!
I feel rather than see him walking back toward his table, and a moment later, I get two messages from him. The first one sends me into a panic so strong my instincts skip right over fight or flight and go directly to freeze. I think my heart even ceases its involuntary rhythm.