by Lola Gabriel
They settled down in the back corner of the coffee shop, a spot Winter couldn’t have been more content with. The entire coffee shop was in view, as well as the street outside thanks to a large floor-to-ceiling window, and she liked the fact that it was set away from the clusters of people chatting and studying. She idly twirled the cappuccino in her hand as she panned the room until her eyes fell back to Sebastian to find him staring at her. The instant he realized he had been caught, he looked away in an embarrassed fashion. How could a man of such status and sophistication know what embarrassment felt like and so easily display it?
“So, uh, come here often?” Winter asked with a weak smile, attempting to break the silent tension.
“No, not really. I mostly come to this area for the museums and bookstores,” he admitted as he fidgeted with the cardstock sleeve around his cup. “What about yourself? What are the books you got for?”
“Oh, I’m a college student. I was grabbing some resources for upcoming projects.” His eyes gleamed with intrigue.
“What’s your major?” She sighed, knowing the conversation that would follow her saying it.
“Education. Early childhood education, to be more precise. Before you say anything, I know it’s not the best paying field to work in, I’m practically buying into poverty. But,” Winter shrugged, “it’s what I want to do. I’m not sure why, but I do, and I’ve wanted to be since first grade.” Her entire body tensed itself in preparation for the looks of sympathy that always came with telling people about her career choice. Only, the expression never came. Sebastian’s blue eyes twinkled with admiration and excitement.
“I wasn’t going to say a word,” he assured her. “It’s a noble profession. It sounds as though you’ve had a hard time with people judging your choice. Which is such a shame. After all, someone has to teach their children, right?”
“Exactly,” Winter practically groaned. No one had ever pointed that out to her, but rather, she would bring it up to others when the same conversation arose.
“What drew you to the field?”
Surprisingly, Winter was caught off guard by the question. While she was used to people asking what she was studying, they never asked why. She supposed they had their own pre-drawn conclusions that a really astounding teacher inspired her to do so and it had stuck with her, or that schooling was all she knew and was good at, so she might as well make a career out of it. The corners of her lips turned up, touched by the thoughtfulness of the inquiry. Tucking her curls behind her ear, she cleared her throat.
“Well, I’m not really sure. Ever since I was old enough to even try to walk and talk, I’ve been trying to teach others. My mom told me that after she would manage to get me to repeat a word after her, I would then act as if I was trying to get her to repeat me. Then, when the neighbor would bring her son, who was a few months younger than me, over to play, I actually did teach him how to walk by holding his hands and pulling him up. She said we would totter around the house holding hands, with me going backward and him forward.”
They both giggled at the adorable scene she had described.
“I suppose I just have a natural attraction to it,” Winter continued. “I love the feeling of teaching someone something that is frustrating to them by breaking it down in a digestible form that they can understand. To see their eyes brighten the moment all of the light bulbs go off in their head and they finally get it. Not grasp the general conception, but truly understand the material. To me, there is no better feeling.”
“That’s perhaps one of the most beautiful and selfless things I have ever heard,” Sebastian breathed. “Others should be envious of the passion and dedication you have.”
Winter shrugged, suddenly feeling bashful about how much she had just shared about herself. “I don’t think there’s much to be jealous of in my life.”
“I politely doubt that.”
They shared a tender smile until Winter distracted herself with taking a few deep sips of her cappuccino. Patting her mouth lightly with one of the paper napkins that lay between them in a stack, she directed the conversation to him. “What about you? What do you do for a living?”
“Nothing of interest, I assure you.”
“Oh, come on. With a suit like that, you must be someone important. Besides, whatever you have to share is more interesting than a story about wanting to be a teacher, I’m sure.”
There was a pause, but it wasn’t quite as relaxed as it had been moments before, like there was something serious on the forefront of Sebastian’s mind that weighed heavily on his shoulders. Normally, Winter was pretty good at picking up on social cues people were putting off, but it was amazing to her just how easy Sebastian was to read. It wasn’t as if his face was ridiculously expressive, but… Winter fell short when she searched for an answer. Although she had never been one to give much thought to things like energies and auras, being in Sebastian’s presence caused her to start taking it into consideration. It was as if there were something about him as a person; something so positive and powerful, she could sense it just by being near him. It was soothing in a way she had never experienced.
“My father owns a rather large corporation here in the city, and while I do work more frequently than others like me in my situation, and I hold a very nice title, I don’t really do anything that impacts the business.”
Sebastian said this with such casualty that Winter thought he was joking at first. He wasn’t. There was a sincere air about the way he spoke, and Winter was rather shocked that someone would be so honest with a person they had just met. Admittedly, Winter hadn’t talked to too many men in the sense of being interested in them, but she knew the ones she had talked to would have spun a story of being a successful businessman who was running the family company.
“I must say, I admire your honesty. It’s refreshing.”
“I don’t see any reason to lie to you—so that if I do get the honor to talk to you again, you discover the truths to said lies and you no longer trust me? That would mean there was no reason for me to talk to you in the first place,” he purred with a tenderness that made Winter breathless. He spoke in a way that reminded her of the way Corey did and the level of caring that came with a friendship as long as theirs.
Why wasn’t she uncomfortable? Every true crime documentary that she and Corey had binge-watched in high school flashed through her mind in a gruesome montage of naïve young women being too trusting with the supposedly successful older guy. Sebastian didn’t seem like a predator, though.
Do you think that those girls would have gotten involved with those men if they seemed like predators? Winter’s anxiety tried to prod at her, and she already wondered if her mind was just trying to psych her out because she was making a connection with a person for the first time since going to college. It was more than likely the case, and while Winter knew that she shouldn’t allow herself to indulge in their time together, she was still sitting there.
“I wish more people had that mindset. There’d be less turmoil in the world,” Winter smiled kindly when she mustered together the concentration to keep the conversation going. She was just mesmerized by the entire scenario. It was as if she had stepped into The Twilight Zone when she’d entered that bookstore. “What is the business exactly?” she asked, genuinely curious. Something told her it was worth more money than she could fathom.
“It’s honestly extremely boring,” Sebastian insisted. “I would rather get to know you while I get the chance.”
“I’d like to get to know you, too,” she pointed out but followed with a nod. “I understand not wanting to talk about work, though. All right… Where are you from?”
There was another pause, and Winter sensed the same shift in Sebastian’s energy she did before. Then, as he spoke, it slowly faded away. “I’m from here. Been here twenty-nine years.”
Her brow quirked. Was that his way of telling her how old he was? “Interesting, interesting. I was in a little town about six hours away for twent
y years, and here for two.”
Sebastian grinned, and it was only then that Winter realized she had been smiling for so long, her cheeks were aching. She internally cringed, knowing she must have looked like an absolute goof: melting at everything the man said, no matter the context, and smiling like a schoolgirl.
“Small town, huh? How do you like that compared to the city?”
“I really have no idea,” she sighed. “I didn’t exactly have a great time in that specific town, but it wasn’t because of the area. Here in the city…” Winter’s voice faded as she thought over the two years of crowded roads, grotesque and persistent catcallers, the fact that everything was more expensive, and the never-ending paranoia that someone would eventually break into her apartment. She did have some fond memories, though. Most were those breakfast dates with Corey and going around to the shops, but that was enough reason for her to be okay with being in the city. They would have never had the opportunity to make those memories if they stayed in their hometown. Winter was certain of her favorite thing about the city so far, and that was the fresh start. “Overall, I’ve been too busy with work and school to give it a fair evaluation; for now, I’ll say it has its ups and downs.”
“I think that’s fair enough. You work as well as going to school? I can’t imagine trying to juggle all of that.”
“I break a sweat from time to time,” she half-heartedly teased. “If we can’t talk about your work, then we aren’t going to talk about mine or my homework. Deal?”
Sebastian scratched his chin in mock contemplation. “I think I can accept these terms. Very well, when you do get free time, what do you do?”
“Sleep,” Winter laughed. “I know, I’m not an exciting person. I think I was born at eighty years old, where I just want to play with the grandkids and teach them the lessons of life, cook ridiculous amounts of food, and curl up at night with a blanket and a book.” She envisioned Sebastian’s life being as glamorous as a television show: beautiful women, fancy cars, restaurants in which the meals cost more than her textbooks, and traveling all over the world. If that were the case, why was he looking at her the way he was?
“That sounds like paradise to me.”
A disbelieving huff passed her lips. “Yeah, right.”
“Oh? You don’t believe me?” Winter drummed her fingers against her arms as she tried to form her thoughts.
“Granted, I’m drawing my conclusions just based off the little about you I know,” she said, “but the young, handsome, rich guys I know lead more… invigorating lives than what I just described. Champagne, model girlfriends, traveling—that sort of stuff.”
Sebastian pondered her response, studying the depths of her eyes with the same tender intention as when a potter glides their hands over a mound of spinning clay when they form a vase, getting to know every little groove and bump. “Do you think I like those things?”
The question caught Winter off guard. Sebastian wasn’t asking in a defensive fashion, but rather an earnest one. He wanted her honest opinion as to whether he seemed like the type of man that indulged in such shallow endeavors. As the weight of his question settled in her, Winter found herself shaking her head side to side slowly.
“Not at all.” Her gaze was settling on the cerulean pools staring back at her, and she found herself lost in a fog; the same one that had rolled in when he said she looked familiar to him. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to shake off the feeling, but it wouldn’t go away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice told her to give into it, to embrace it.
At that point, Sebastian and Winter were the only people in her world. Her eyes were locked with the same intensity and curiosity as his. Had she ever looked someone in the eyes? Sure, she made eye contact to be polite and show she was present in the conversation, but Winter couldn’t recall a time that she had sat and looked someone deep in the eyes and tried to read them. As she visually traced the fine lines that made up the burst of vibrant blue, she noticed that the color bled into a ring of faint gray. No, silver. A low hum vibrated throughout her body. Warm sensations passed through her in waves, each tide comforting, blissful, and exponentially stronger. It was rapidly consuming her every sense, and her chest was a dying star, ready to crush under the pressure of its own core.
Unable to take it anymore, Winter ripped her eyes away and tried to concentrate on some fixed object out the window. It was taking a conscious effort to keep her breathing even. Meanwhile, her heart was practically ricocheting off the walls of her chest.
What the hell was that? Winter had fallen in a rabbit hole, she was sure of it. She did her best to appear as though she was just distracted by something in the distance while she calmed herself down. There had to be a logical reason behind all of this. Maybe Corey’s talk had gotten to her in ways she hadn’t realized before, and she was romanticizing Sebastian—also known as the first man to show any interest in her—following a conversation about how she needed a significant other to help balance her life. Maybe, in some sort of instinct to self-preserve and find the balance she so desperately needed, her mind was finding a solution and forcing it to work.
These conclusions gave Winter some sense of comfort, and she told herself to try to stay out of her own head as best as she could. Still, even as her breathing became less labored and her heart calmed, she discovered a logical reason behind the asinine delusions going on in her head: Winter, at her core, did not believe it. The certainty that there was an inkling of truth and reasoning behind what she was experiencing gnawed at her and embedded itself in the sensitive flesh of her mind. She knew that no matter what happened after that point, she wanted to get to know Sebastian. She felt not just an urge, but a full-on desire to discover what it was about him that made her feel that way.
Once her thoughts evened out, Winter quickly shook her head and found the courage to glance back over to Sebastian. The same kind and cool expression was on his face, but she could tell he was forcing it. A tension was lying just underneath his surface, though she wasn’t sure if it was necessarily a bad tension.
“Sorry, I zoned out for a minute there,” Winter murmured, resorting to taking gulps of her beverage, which at this point had become lukewarm. How could they have possibly been there long enough for her drink to cool?
“That’s all right,” said Sebastian. “Say, I was thinking. If you don’t have anything you need to do, would you like to maybe walk around with me? Continue talking but get a change of scenery?”
It was like he knew exactly what she needed. “I’m free the rest of the day, actually.”
His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth in a disapproving manner. “You shouldn’t have told me that. Now I’m going to steal you away for as long as I can.”
Winter was beaming at the thought.
5
Sebastian had done more than find peace—he had found bliss. There was no questioning or denying it, even if he couldn’t begin to comprehend how it was even possible. Winter was his soulmate, and he could feel that it was Lucia. Of course, Winter was her own person, and the more they spoke, the more he could distinguish the two of them. It was as if her soul had been reborn and this embodiment still carried her essence. He was sure that if he were to try and talk to anyone in the dragon Kingdom about this realization, they would call him delusional. Rumors would quickly spread, some stories more twisted than others, that the wimpy, heartbroken prince had finally cracked.
He would have to get to the bottom of it on his own, and he was actually okay with that for the time being. Sebastian wanted to take the time to get to know Winter and really understand the connection they held. The feeling was the same rush he’d had when he had first found Lucia, and now that it was returning to him, Sebastian couldn’t have been happier. All of his stresses and panic from earlier in the day had utterly evaporated into thin air. Winter was all he could see or think about. The best part of the entire situation was that he was seeing glimpses of what looked like understanding in Winter’s e
yes. It could be his heart playing tricks on him, but he hoped with every molecule in his being that it was true. It would be so much easier if he could explain it all to her without fear of frightening her off.
Telling Winter the truth was yet to come, however. Presently, Sebastian had to worry about trying to court her, which he hadn’t done for anyone since Lucia—if one could even call it that. She was able to tame him with the calmness, understanding, and patience beyond her years. He had been a wrecking ball, charging in at all force, completely uncaring of what damage was done. In the early days of their meeting, Sebastian would guard her like a loyal hound that would attack a person for simply looking at Lucia the wrong way.
With that being the circumstances surrounding his only experience, Sebastian was becoming aware of just how far he was in over his head. Thankfully, carefully worded honesty had been working in the meantime. This was the first time in a long while that Sebastian truly felt his age; his real age, something he had long since lost track of. What was socially appropriate for asking a girl out on dates, and for the steps following a date?
“What’s your favorite movie?” Winter’s voice sliced through the little world he had spiraled into, and he snapped back into focus. He smiled weakly.
“What? Oh, um, let me think on that,” he said, looking up to the overhanging clouds in contemplation. As a lover of art, Sebastian appreciated films for their artistic value, and he’d seen hundreds of movies throughout the industry’s evolution. It was hard to narrow it down to a single selection. “I would have to say… Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind.” He watched as the cute little crease appeared on Winter’s forehead, and her eyes narrowed.
“The movie with Jim Carrey?” Winter asked when she suddenly placed the title. After he confirmed it with a nod, her face brightened in an amused way. “That’s a pretty sad movie to be a favorite.”
