Felicity's POV.
The next morning, I woke up with a sudden jolt of guilt. I'd forgotten to call Mom last night. Before I did anything else, I grabbed my phone and dialed her number. She picked up on the third ring and we greeted each other as usual.
"Hi, Nina. How are you doing this morning?" she asked in that warm, motherly tone that always made me smile.
"Hello, Mom. I'm fine. And you?"
"I'm okay. But you didn't call me last night. Why?"
I winced. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I was exhausted. I must've fallen asleep the moment I hit the bed."
"You were that stressed on your first day? Then you'll probably crash before midterm," she teased.
We both burst into laughter.
"I'll survive, Mom. Don't worry," I assured her with a soft smile. I didn't tell her about everything that had happened yesterday—no point in making her worry unnecessarily.
After the call, I got dressed for class. I tied my hair into a neat ponytail and decorated it with colorful beads. The morning was bright and crisp, sunlight spilling over the Oxford rooftops. I felt good—fresh, early, and ready. Since the day was too beautiful to waste, I decided to walk to the lecture hall. I even took out my phone to record a video of the gorgeous morning light because the whole city looked like something out of a painting.
As I walked down the cobblestone street, I couldn't help admiring how beautiful the city looked — it was too pretty not to capture. The air smelled like coffee, early-morning calm, and new beginnings. Then I passed by a coffee shop and saw him. He was outside taking out the trash, sleeves rolled up, looking annoyingly good for someone who was supposed to be grumpy 24/7 before heading back inside. I still called him "him" because I didn't know his name yet. I approached him, and he looked surprised to see me.
"Hey, stranger," I greeted, waving at him as he looked up.
He looked genuinely startled. "What are you doing here?"
"Um, hello? It's a coffee shop that sells coffee. I came here for the same reason everyone else does — I want a latte," I replied, pretending to be offended.
"Oh. Right. That would be £3.70," he said flatly.
I gasped. "Wait, you're working here?"
"I'm behind the counter, so what did you think?"
"Ugh! You don't have to be rude."
He sighed. "Sorry. Yeah, I work here."
"That's so cool! I wish I had a part-time job too so I could earn some extra income. That would be ama—"
Before I could finish, he caught me off guard and pressed his index finger lightly to my lips.
"Stop talking for a second. Are your words always on fire? Gosh" he muttered. "Well, don't be proud of it. And don't tell anyone I work here — not a single soul, okay?"
He looked dead serious. I blinked, then rolled my eyes dramatically.
"Yes, sir, I'm on it. My lips are sealed. But honestly, people will figure it out eventually, it's not rocket science. Still, I promise, not a word. No need to be so touchy about it. It's not like you're entering a secret underground bunker."
"So… you think it's cool that I work here?" he asked, a tiny smile pulling at his lips.
"Of course! You get to earn money, meet people and make friends—"
"I don't work here for money," he cut in. "I already have plenty. I work here to help people in need. I'm a pr—" he stopped suddenly.
"You're a what?" I asked curiously.
"Never mind," he said quickly.
We stood in awkward silence until he cleared his throat.
"I'm done with my shift. Let's go to school. And remember not a word about this."
"Yeah, yeah. Cross my heart and promise," I said, giving him a Scout salute.
"And when I promise, I—"
"Yes, yes, I know," he cut in with a smirk. "You keep your promises. Blah blah blah."
I rolled my eyes. "You're unbelievable."
Then I suddenly gasped dramatically. "Hold on—wait! What about my coffee?"
"It's too early. Besides, it's not good for your health. Let's go," he said casually.
I exclaimed. "What?! Tell me you're joking. That's illegal! You can't just—"
He smiled. "Relax. I'm kidding. But also… not really. Let's go."
We both burst into laughter as we stepped outside, sunlight warming our faces and we started walking down the street.
"So are we going to walk or take a cab?" I asked.
"Either's fine. We're almost at school anyway. A taxi is easier, but a little exercise won't hurt," he replied.
Yeah, you're right," I said, matching his pace.
He was different today — softer, less guarded. The way his voice lowered when he teased me, the way he smiled without meaning to... he was changing. Or maybe he was finally letting me see who he really was. He was getting sweeter, warmer than when we first met. A tough nut to crack, sure, but I could tell he was hiding something. Maybe that's why he acted so grumpy and rude sometimes. You can't judge a person by meeting them once — some people are like open books, others take time to read. And he was definitely the slow-to-open kind.
"So, you are cool now?" I asked playfully.
He gave me a look. "Don't get corny."
I laughed. "Well, we didn't exactly get off to a great start, but since we're practically walking buddies now — hi, my name is Felicity Paddington," I said, extending my hand for a handshake.
He hesitated for just a moment before taking it.
"I'm Christopher Daniel Blake — Chris, for short."
His hand was warm. He held mine a little longer than necessary, his eyes locked on mine before he quickly let go.
"Nice to meet you, Felicity Paddington" he said, finally smiling.
And just like that, day two felt different. Warmer. Brighter. Like something beautiful was beginning.
>>>>>>>>>>
Christopher's POV.
The alarm on my phone went off far too early for my liking. I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, took a quick shower, combed my hair, and got dressed in a hurry. Realizing I was running late for work, I grabbed my keys, locked the door, slipped them into my bag, and jogged down the street to the coffee shop—it wasn't far from here.
When I reached the coffee shop, my boss called me into his office. I knocked.
"It's open. Come in," he said.
"Morning, sir—uh, Mr. Ryan," I greeted, stepping inside.
"Morning, Chris," he replied, arms crossed. "You're late. Why are you late?"
"I know. I'm really sorry, sir. It won't happen again," I said quickly.
He sighed. "Good. You better be. Now get to work."
"Thanks, sir," I replied, turning to leave.
"Just call me Ryan," he said.
I nodded. "Got it, Ryan."
I slipped on my apron and got to work. After taking out the trash, I returned to the counter to serve a customer when the doorbell chimed and she walked in. She greeted me in a weird way and I couldn't believe her audacity. We talked, argued, laughed — she was full of life, outgoing, talkative, unpredictable and magnetic. I tried to stay serious, but she made that impossible. Somewhere between her chatter and my sarcasm, I started to like her. By the time my shift ended, we were walking down the street together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She asked if we should take a taxi. I suggested we walk instead. It gave me more time beside her — though I'd never admit that. Her lips moved constantly — she was always saying something yet I found myself wanting to listen. Her hair glinted in the sunlight, the colorful beads catching little rays of color, and when the breeze brushed across her face, I couldn't look away. She was warmer than I thought — her smile, her voice, even the way she looked at me. She's not what I expected, and I'm still trying to figure her out. It's not easy falling for someone like her…but I'II try.
We kept chatting, and just when I was about to ask her name, she looked up and said, "Hi, I'm Felicity Paddington."
Felicity. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl — a name that sounded like laughter and trouble all rolled into one, I thought.
"I'm Christopher Daniel Blake," I said, shaking her hand.
She smiled, and for a moment, I forgot we were even walking. Maybe I was falling for her. Maybe I already had.