Asa had thought NYC was a pretty big place, especially compared to Dublin- more than 10 times the size and density. So many people, new ones every day. Any time Asa took a walk outside, he was confronted by more and more unique strangers. So why was it that he was running into his ex-hook-up in a coffeeshop? Ex... friend with benefits? Whatever you wanted to call it. But heâd spotted him far too late to do much about it, and now he was stuck in line.
It looked like Ari was already seated. And Asa didnât exactly have the best eyesight- one eye had worse vision than the other and even with his contacts, he could only see so far in front of him. So it was misfortune that found him here, almost done ordering his coffee, feeling around for his wallet and glancing over to find Ari right there. Shit. Asa wasnât very good at talking. Or apologizing about how he had just... fallen off of their conversations. The texts had slowed down, and Asa eventually had not known what else to say... and heâd dropped it. It wasnât Ariâs fault. Asa had a terrible time with social cues. And he felt guilty. Guiltier by the moment as he stood there waiting for his coffee.
Finally after he was handed his drink and a croissant, Asa walked over to Ariâs little table. âDidnât, uh, see ye there, mate.â He commented, Irish brogue thick on his tongue as he tried very hard to be casual. But it didnât work, on account of the look of quiet terror on his face, like heâd just hit an animal with his car or something.Â
@mexicancharmâ
