I find myself sitting opposite none other than Jace Harrison himself— he somewhat convinced me to join him for coffee but it didn need much convincing as I did want to find out more about him and this little feud he has got going on with Andrew, a chocolate chip muffin and two coffees rest neatly in between Jace and me. The dark wooden table separates us as we sit on the hard stools that make me move and fidget uncomfortably. The aroma of hot coffee floats around the air as it begins to become darker outside. I turn my head to Jace, he is currently looking down at his coffee cup, his right hand wrapped around it as his left-hand traces alongside it with his long dexterous fingers. He lifts his cup up and then takes a sip, he sets it gently back down and then looks up at me sensing the fixed gaze that I have on him. He looks me directly in the eye— silver eyes beautiful and radiant causing my cheeks to get hot with blush, I quickly turn away—

”So why did you ask me here for coffee? ” I ask while still very much looking down.

I look up and he is still staring at me— but he doesn answer my question. Nor does it seems as if he intends to.

”Eat. ” He orders as he shoves the muffin toward me.

I want to be confident and shove it right back but I oddly don and just pick the large muffin cup. My hand comes to a halt as my confidence begins to boil up.

I frown. ”Why? ” I hit him back with a one-word response.

He heaves a long sigh, ”You have been in your room the whole day— ” he bites down on his lower lip to prevent him from answering any further.

”You were watching me? ” I ask as raise my brow.

He slowly shakes his head and then opens his mouth to speak, ”Not watching— noticing. ” He says firmly and then takes a sip of his coffee and elegantly places it back down.

He has rather a majestic way of moving, I notice— he reminds me of a charming prince in one of those books my mother used to read to me when I was little.

I then take a bite of my muffin to please him and besides our company begins to grow awkward and I rather not push on that topic or any topic for that matter because it can only bring no good. Although I would love to know more about him as an individual.

”So you don look like the social media type. ” I mention as I swallow, ”but you have a large number of followers. ” I inquire.

”Im not a type of anything. ” He answers distantly, ”My grandfather hired someone to post on all of my social media platforms— to keep his image clean and presentable my grandfather claims. ” He elaborates further on the topic.

I shrug, ”Oh. ” I say softly, ”But you still have access to it. ” I raise my brow.

He nods, ”Indeed I do— be careful what you say on there as well, about five people have access to that account. ” He warns me.

”Why would I even want to talk to you in the first place. ” I protest and he lets out a snicker ch I am startled this has to be the first time I have heard him laugh.

He bites down on his plump bottom lip to refrain from smiling more.

”You don have to. ” He shrugs and looks to the window— I find him looking up at the sky, eyes glassy from the light as the sky begins to turn a dark purple. And I watch a smile arise at the curl of his lips.

He turns back to face me, eyes fixed on mine— I almost want to turn away but I don . All I do is stare right back at him my eyes large with curiosity as to inquire what is he thinking about. I find myself wondering about that more and more.

He parts his pink lips to speak, ”Where did you live before? ” He asks and then turns his gaze to his cup that rests intertwined in between his pale delicate fingers.

”New York, ” I answer and that is the half-truth.

He nods and then looks up, ”I have been there more than a handful of times but mostly for my grandfathers business, it is a tad too busy for my liking. ” He answers calmly, British accent clear as day.

I then take another bite of my muffin and my mind begins to turn with wonder— I wonder why he cares, why concern himself with me?

”I find you strange… do you know that? ” I candidly say. He stares at me for a while and then answers.

”As everyone does. ” He admits and then after gives me a small smirk, ”Could I show you something? ” He asks gaze steady on mine.

I slowly nod and he then pushes himself up from his chair, he watches me slide off my uncomfortable chair, then I follow him outside where it is already dark, the moon out, and the stars dim due to the bright city lights. He takes a few steps with his long legs as he walks to the bookstore next door, he then stuffs one hand in his pocket and pulls out keys that jingle together.

He then opens up the books store and the warm air brushes past me as we both step in, he walks to the back to turn on the light and then waves for me to follow him, one would be hesitant because I hardly know him but I follow anyway—

”Here. ” He says as he takes me to the back past the iron spiraling staircase and into a dark corner of the room.

He traces his beautiful fingers on the bookcase as he walks, he then comes to a hold and then sticks his right hand behind a bookshelf and pulls from what sounds to be a latch and I step to the side thinking that it is going to fall on me but instead it opens into another room, he turns on the light and the room has more books— it is neatly decorated with Victorian paintings and an old wooden table and chairs, about a few books are packed on top of one another on the table and the chairs pushed in neatly— everything well placed and decorated, it almost creates a feeling from another era.

”I come here for some quiet. ” He explains meekly.

And I just stare at him, ”Is this why you work here? ” I ask him.

He shakes his head, ”I only found out about this room after the man that owns this bookstore trusted me enough to show it to me. ” He says whilst running his pale fingers through his dark hair.

”Do you believe in fate? ” He turns to me and then walks around the room, ”Do you believe that people are supposed to meet at a certain place and at a certain time and all the obstacles they had was just so they can be with this one person. ”

He turns to me once again as he leans against the wall next to the bookshelf— he stands in the dark, dimmed out by the poor light— so dimmed I can barely make out his face. ”I can explain it to anyone— let alone myself. ” He pauses as if he is contemplating whether or not should he say the next part,

”But I feel as if I was meant to meet you, Lucy. ”

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