(via quitepainful)Source: confessions-of-a-cutaholic
look at him he could be that one busboy that works at the small little diner by your house. And you go there all the time bc it has free wifi and they have a special every afternoon on different kinds of pie. But you also go because of the kid with the ruffled black hair that cleans off plates, and sweeps the floor, and clears empty tables.
You’d come in today to work on a research paper you were writing for school. All you’d ordered was a bowl of soup and a large hot chocolate because this was going to take a while.
A half hour passed. You’d finished your soup and made a decent dent in your paper, but hadn’t reached your goal for the day. You figured you’d stay another 15 minutes to attempt to finish up the first two paragraphs or so. That was until someone approached your table in a long black apron. Looking up, you noticed that it was him, the busboy, and you felt a wave of nervousness crash over you.
"Do you mind if I take this?" he asked with a charming smile. His voice a bit more bubbly sounding than you’d expected.
"No, no it’s fine. I’m finished anyway," you replied with a polite grin. He looked like he wanted to say more, seeing as he kind of just stood there in front of your table.
"Uh, whatcha writing?" he asked instead, attempting to continue the conversation. You tilted your screen down and glanced back up at him.
"A paper for school," you said, wondering why he was talking to you. You were sure he’d get in trouble for it.
"Agh, I hate school," he responded, taking a seat in the chair opposite you. "Mind if I sit down for a minute?"
"Not at all," you laughed, now shutting your laptop lid completely and looking across the table at this cute busboy with a small smirk on your lips.
"I’m Calum, in case you were wondering," he chuckled, "and I’ve noticed you come in here a lot but I’ve never had the nerve to talk to you until now."
You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, resting your chin on the palm of your right hand. ”What do you mean?”
"Well, I dunno. To be blunt I guess, I’ve always thought you were really pretty and I’d always been too scared to talk to you," he admitted with a sheepish grin. You couldn’t help but smile now as a warm blush creeped across the bridge of your nose.
"Calum!" a man shouted from behind your left shoulder. You turned and saw the manager of this small diner walking in your direction. "Back to work! I’m not paying you to flirt with the customers!"
"Uh, okay, well I should probably take this then," Calum muttered, an embarrassed grin on his pink lips. "I’ll get your check if you want me to."
"Yeah, uh, thank you," you nodded, your eyes apologetic.
A few minutes later, Calum returned with your check, winking at you before walking away. You slid the slightly crumpled receipt into your hand and bit your bottom lip when you noticed something written on the bottom in messy handwriting.
talking to you was really nice
we should do it again sometime
my shift’s over at 8 ;) :)