Veni, Vidi, Vici

“I love this place. Half of my nourishment comes from here.” Marc said as he unfolded the oily paper wrapping of his double cheeseburger.

Grace tilted her head to the side as she curiously watched Marc set the burger to the tray, his large hands prying the top bun off and his fingers carefully picking out the muddy green slice of pickle, discarding the floppy, alien object onto a serviette by his side. He continued on to place a large handful of salty fries onto the unnaturally yellow slice of cheese. Then replacing the bun on top of the food tower, he took the thing into his hands and took a large bite, almost demolishing half of it. He chewed it like a wine connoisseur, his gaze into the distance, and brows furrowed as his jaws worked slowly and carefully over the food, savouring and analysing the flavours as they wandered over his tastebuds.

His eyes drifted over to her face and landed on her eyes, catching her concentrated stare, instinctively she turned her head down, feeling embarrassed by her own mindless gawking. Yet then she felt something else, it was the tip of his rough fingers catching her chin, and ever so gently tilting her head back up so their eyes met once more. Grace’s chest clenched as she sat helpless to his inspection, unable to break away from his gaze. He seemed to be reading her emotions, looking into her mind, and it really didn’t help either with him rubbing light circles over her jaw with his thumb, the temperate abrasions sending ridiculous tingles through her bones.

“I’m glad that you’re not crying anymore, I hate it when you cry.” He said after finally
swallowing his mouthful of burger and taking his hands off her face.

“That was the only time you’ve ever seen me cry.” She retorted, trying to keep a calm I-couldn’t-care-less composure.

“I hope that will be the last.”

Grace once again averted her eyes, unable to stand the tension that rolled between them. Where on earth had all this intensity and emotional talk come from? Just seconds ago he’d been shoving fries into his burger and praising McDonalds.

After Grace had finished with her mortifying cry-fest, he’d only looked at her, wiped the tears from her ruddy cheeks and asked her if she’d wanted to go anywhere. She’d only nodded, desperately wanting to escape the suffocating drugstore. So after calling her mother and telling her that she was going to taking an extra hour shift, they ran out to his car, with Marc pulling his jacket over her head, trying to shield her from the torrents of rain. So now here they were, in McDonalds of all the places, a half empty store with workers that served them with hazy expressionless eyes, so tired from their day’s work and languid from the drowning, depressing weather. They were sitting by a window that looked out into a bleak darkness that slashed with rain and lightning, accompanied by the occasional thunder that was so deep it shook her down to the soul.

“I think you should eat your burger.”

Grace sighed and pick up her already cooling burger, they bun was soft, strangely perfect and the smell not unpleasant, she hadn’t remembered the last time she’d consumed one of these things, it might have been with her sister, or before that, or even never. So she bit into it, wanting to prove to Marc that she was just like any other girl.

Yeah, any other girl who would run away from Marc Winston after he’d kissed her.

Brushing away her thoughts, Grace chewed, she imagined that her expression was probably like Marc’s, testing, savouring and pondering. The burger was good, in a foreign kind of way and Grace eagerly took another bite, sating the hollow emptiness in her stomach.

Marc watched Grace as she ate, following her every move like an eagle stalking its prey. After she finished, they were going to talk, he knew that there was a high chance Grace was going to burst into tears again, but Marc hated unanswered questions, and right now, he had just one too many of those. She finished her fries, coke and cheeseburger quicker than he’d anticipated, which sadly meant that the interrogation would be starting now.

“Grace, I know the topic is still sore, but we need to talk about what happened.”

“Oh.” She said, her voice barely a whisper, no, she would be strong, and she was going to talk about it. So she straightened her back and pushed back her shoulders, an ambivalent mask descending upon her face. “Yes. Um... that’s a good idea, I think.”

“I like you Grace, a lot. And I somehow think that you like me as well, a little bit.”

So much more than a little bit. Grace swallowed and tried to create some sort of sensible response to his blatant outburst.

“Um...” Oh good one, Grace, really original she thought, mentally slapping herself.

“Look, I really don’t know what to do about it either. I mean somehow, going out for a few dates doesn’t seem to really make the cut.”

Oh gosh! He wanted to go on a date with her? Grace quickly looked down again, warmth flooding to her cheeks partly from shock, but mostly from large dose of sudden joy and excitement. She was confused, beyond comprehension. She like Marc, a lot, so much so that it was almost borderline obsession, but something, like a tickling instinct in the back of her mind, warning her, whispering into her ear, was telling her that Marc couldn’t be trusted. It just wasn’t right, someone as outgoing, popular and outrageously gorgeous as Marc taking an interest in her - boring, plain and stupidly shy Grace. Marc was everything she’d ever wanted, and more. It would be so easy for a stunning girl to just sweep him out of her arms, leaving her heartbroken and feeling five different shades of ignorant. A part of her wished that she was beautiful and confident, so there would be no nagging suspicion, no unwanted doubts haunting her thoughts, but that was never going to happen no matter how hard she wished. So Grace did what she did best when faced with a difficult problem. She turned the other way.

“Oh look! My food came with a toy!”

Marc’s mouth fell open at her response. That was most definitely uncalled for, but her reaction made him realise something. She wasn’t ready . To be truthful, he wasn’t even sure if he was ready himself, things with Grace were... different. And what he’d said was true, a couple of dates just wouldn’t have sufficed, plus they barely knew each other. He didn’t even know her fucking middle name. Yet he’d never known any of his past girlfriends’ middle names anyways, so why bother now? Because with Grace, it’s different. She’s more than any of your past girlfriends.

Marc sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Deciding to drop the subject, he reached over to the toy in Grace’s hand which she was examining with deep interest. He gently pried it out of her grip and spun it. Her eyes widened in surprise and were glued to the spinning cow on the table before her.

“Hello there, my name is Marc Joseph Winston.”

She tore her gaze away from the trinket and looked up, brows furrowed together in confusion. And then she smiled. The smile that accelerated his heart and made his head spin, the smile that he saw when he closed his eyes right before he fell asleep, the smile that he daydreamed about at least five times a day, the smile that made any other smile fade in comparison.

“Hello Marc Joseph Winston, my name is Grace Hannah Lennon.”