@droppingpetals​
If he was being honest, it had been a while since Vince had even wanted to go on a date. The last proper one he had been on was with his now ex-boyfriend almost two years ago. He had seen other guys since, but not exactly doing anything that could be called a date - and never the same guy twice. Vince told himself that he didn’t have the time for another relationship, that work was keeping him too busy or that he didn’t want to be tied down - but he knew he wasn’t being honest with himself. After his breakup, Vince buried himself in work, taking on more clients than he could really even handle, overworking himself to the point that it became unhealthy. Vince had a breakdown just a month ago - kicking, screaming, crying, the whole nine yards - and he knew it was time for a change. So when an opportunity arose that would take him from his cramped loft in New York City to London, he jumped on it without a second thought.
The work was good. Vince had been hired to help renovate a museum in the heart of the city. It was no small task, but at least he wasn’t doing it alone. He made friends with his coworkers pretty quickly, feeling close to them even in the few weeks he had been in England. Vince had let it slip one night over drinks that he was single - and had been for the last two years - which, in hindsight, was probably a mistake. After that, his friend Hellen wouldn’t stop telling him about this very nice, very handsome, very single friend of hers. She offered to set them up a couple of times before Vince finally caved, figuring that it was time he got on with his life, because if he didn’t now, when would he?
So Vince sat in a small cafe near the museum, wearing the green jacket Ellen had told him to wear, waiting for Mr. Right to walk through the door. A sudden hush fell upon the cafe, quickly followed by whispers and giggles. Vince looked up and - oh good god - Prince Jace was standing not ten feet away from him. Not a lot of Americans knew a lot about the British royalty, but thanks to Vince’s self-proclaimed anglophile mother, he knew just about his fair share. He knew that the prince was known to be very nice, very handsome, and England’s most eligible bachelor. Wait... It couldn’t be him, could it? Of course not, it was just a coincidence. It had to be. But then the prince was looking at him and smiling, and heading straight over for Vince’s table.
