“You know…” You say with a mouth full of ice cream. “The day we met was totally by acthident,” The sugary dessert laid thick on your tongue as you spoke, earning a laugh from Steven.
“Oh yeah?” Steven smiles, taking a small bite of his ice cream. He raises a brow at you, not sure where this is coming from but he knows that look in your eye. You’re going to tell him about it whether he wants to hear it or not (but he always loved listening to your ramblings).
The two of you sit on the couch in your flat, both in mismatched pajamas. Ever the gentleman, Steven slept in your spare bedroom whenever your movie nights ever ran late into the morning. Tonight, you wear an oversized t-shirt with shorts, and your calves are crossed and propped up on his lap as Pitch Perfect plays on your television.
Steven enjoyed coming over for movie night, and sure this was a movie you’ve both watched quite a few times, but it served as great background noise whenever you two wanted to just talk. Plus, you knew the soundtrack by heart, it was fun for Steven to watch you belt your heart out at random interludes in the conversation.
“Yes, it was! I’m never late to work, and that was my first time ever going to the museum,” One of the most important days of your life came by accident. You recall it being one of the few mornings you were running late to work, the first morning in months you forgot your mug on your kitchen counter.
☾✩☽
“Bollocks…” You mutter under your breath, digging through your work bag while riding the bus. You were working on breaking the bad habit of eating out, fancy coffee included. You settled on flavored creamer and sugars for your fixings, wanting to dial back on your expenses. But coffee was essential. Is essential. You had to have it or your whole day would be off-center and your coworkers would call you fussy.
You hop off at the next bus stop, looking around for the nearest coffee stand. You didn’t realize you decided on the busiest spot in London on a Friday, in front of the National Gallery. There’s a small arrow atop a portable tourist stand with a large arrow that reads COFFEE in bold Expo marker handwriting.
You roll your eyes having to pay an entry fee to a public museum, but once inside you understand why you buy a ticket.
High, sky-lighted ceilings welcomed you, exhibitions ranging from the Roman Empire, Eastern Asia, to the United States, and all the way to the most current attraction, Ancient Egypt. You spotted the coffee stand tucked away by customer service and speed walk, feeling like a woman caught in a drought the closer you get to your coffee.
The view inside the museum is worth being late to work. Marble pillars stood two stories high with rustic gold finishing, red ropes lead patrons and children around the first floor, the dioramas of significant moments in human history displayed large and proud— the sights had kept you occupied.
You hope their coffee is delectable enough, desperate for a drink but not wanting caffeinated brown tar. You place your order and pay the barista, waiting patiently for your concoction.
You record a video of the inside of the museum, planning to send it to your best friend and mother. You capture all of the dinosaur displays, the mummy in the display case, and when you pan to the gift shop someone would think you’re having a stroke with your slowing speech. your camera landing on who stood behind the counter. “I will have to take you… here… sometime…” Your voice died out as you unconsciously zoomed in.
Shaggy, curly brunette mop, olive skin that reminded you of your favorite brand of almond butter, a well-aged stood over the register, counting something hidden behind the counter. You didn’t realize how much of a daze you were in until hearing your drink order being called out snapped your attention away from the man. You lean back and feel around the counter for the cup, unable to look away from the gift shopist.
You know you’re going to be late to work if you spare any more seconds towards the stranger, but you know what — fuck your job. They can handle you being a few more minutes late, your morning meetings practically ran themselves. Is it too late to call in? You were determined to get a closer look at the hunched and handsome gentleman running the gift shop.
You take a sip of your coffee and serpentine pattern around the exhibits, your subtly not your strongest area as any observer would call you stalking, but as long as you haven’t drawn his attention to you. You eventually make it to the gift shop, and you tinker and fidget with a few collectibles on the shelves. From your side-eye, you observe him from the corner of your eye.
You slowly made your way to the counter after window shopping all of the different trinkets — toy beetles, Find Your Own Mummy! gift sets that involved toy sarcophaguses and a box of sand, cute little books to learn hieroglyphics — and you had the fantabulous idea to ask him about the other gift inventory available.
You step closer to the counter, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning down just a little to get a better view of the man.
Long eyelashes, dark bags under his eyes, curly hair messily combed back, collar slightly disheveled with a shirt that didn’t match his jacket, and the name tag that read Steven was a little crooked. You feel sorry for the man, the closer you look, he had rough day written all over him. Maybe saying hello to him would help his morning just a little.
Before you get close enough to make up a question about the stuffed sphynx statues, a blonde woman in a suit cuts in front of you. She slams a rather heavy box on the counter, you peer over her shoulder and see it's full of jars with animal heads, all with orange stickers stuck to them.
“Stevie, I told you to label these clearance gummy organs for three pounds, and you have them labeled for two.” The woman snarled, obviously annoyed. Steven huffed quietly enough for you to catch but it was missed by her, who you assumed was his manager.
“Donna,” He sighs. Oh my goodness, you think to yourself. His accent. His accent. “When you gave me the box, you told me to label them for two pounds.” Every word flowing from that mouth of his made you want him to read you the phone book.
“Their original price is three and a half, and they expire at the end of this month.” He raised his brows as if Donna is supposed to remember.
“Are you calling me a liar, Stevie?” She waves a finger at him.
“It’s Steven, Donna. Steven.” He tapped his name tag. You liked him already, you’re excited for Donna to finish talking so you can ask him about nothing in particular, any excuse to get to know the surprisingly tart gentleman.
“I outta write you up for insubordination, Stevie.” Donna gets too close to Steven for your liking. Menacing in her threat, you want to jump in front of him and tell her to piss off. The way he shrinks back at her closeness makes your blood pressure rise. You act without pondering the consequences, the worst this woman can do is have you thrown out but she had no right to bully her employees.
You interject, hurriedly tapping her on the shoulder. “Excuse me… excuse me!”
Donna turned, unsure if you were addressing her or the man behind the counter.
“Now I don’t work here, but you shouldn’t be talking to this gentleman here as if he’s incompetent on his job. You’re the one that hired him, aren’t you?” Your eyebrows furrow at her.
Donna looks at Steven and back to you. “Oh, well I never personally hired him—”
“Not literally, I don’t care if you technically did or not,” You shake your head, looking at Donna as if she grew a third head in a matter of minutes.
Your unyielding attitude towards Donna stirred Steven’s heart, he could have been looking at the stars on a clear night. You missed the sparkling in his eyes as you stare Donna down. The blonde shuffled her feet side to side, Steven simply stared at you in awe.
“What I’m getting at is you should know that you are talking to a person with feelings, and a life outside of all of this.” You motioned to the gift shop.
“If you’re upset with him about something, then do it in private. You don’t know what’s going on in his personal life, do you?” Your voice crescendos. Your volume brings the attention of nearby patrons, making the blonde backpedal on her heels.
“I apologize for any rudeness I may have shown you,” Donna mutters.
“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, you should apologize to him.” You lean on the counter, arms crossed. More patrons of the museum started to eavesdrop, and you could care less who was listening at that point.
You knew you had more to say to prove your point, but you just want to talk to Steven. Donna nods curtly at Steven, her shoulders crouched and apologetic.
“Excuse me,” Donna scurries away, her steps swift as she makes her leave.
The crowd dissipates and you take a deep breath, rolling your head toward Steven. He stares at you, his eyes shining at the courage you had to stand up to a complete stranger, all for his sake. Who are you?
You smile at him, your eyes conveying mischief and warmth the way you smiled at Steven. He felt his chest clench, unprepared to talk to you or thank you for coming to his aid.
“So, you come here often?” Those were truly the words that flew out of your mouth just now. Was that really the best line you could think of?
Steven blinked, tilting his head. “Um, ma’am, I work here.” He fidgets with his name tag.
You want to combust on the spot at how hard you embarrass yourself. His blush is equal to yours, causing him to scratch the back of his neck.
☾✩☽
It was the day you met your best friend, you’re urged to tell him. You settle on winking at him, seeing if he remembers the lame pick-up line. Hitting on him within seconds of meeting him was not your proudest moment but you don’t regret a thing if this is where you are now, right here with him sitting next to you.
You don’t call attention to his incoming blush. “It was a happy accident, indeed.” Steve chuckles.
He swallows another bite of ice cream, he knows he didn’t take a large bite but there’s a lump in his throat when he thinks of the question to ask you. “Why were you so persistent to get to know me?”
“Steven, you’re much more interesting than you think you are.” You roll your eyes playfully at him.
“Oh, you’re fibbing.” He squeezes your calf, making you giggle. You lift your free calf and trap his hand.
“One of the happiest accidents of my life, in fact, the next few days were by accident as well.” Your impish smile tells him everything.
☾✩☽
You contemplated stopping by the museum on your way home that day, but you realize that would definitely fit stalking criteria.
Sunday was a long enough break from Friday to see if Steven was working again. You want to go back to the museum, hoping to see him working again to find any reason to talk to him.
You wear an outfit saved for potential dates — which haven’t happened for months, so in the dryer your clothes go to get out those wrinkles — an off-shoulder button-up sundress with ruffles and waves all in your favorite color, with low wedge sandals and your hair tied up in an intentionally messy bun. Golden earrings and a matching necklace of choice tie together your ensemble, and you have a good feeling about today.
You make it to the museum and you pay your entrance fee to gander around the large open space. You purposely showed up close to eleven-thirty, to see if he had a potential lunch break coming up soon. You browse around the galleries, hoping that if he does notice you your objective is not as obvious to him.
Steven is unaware of the woman scouting him, the heroine who saved him from Donnasauraus Rex a few days ago. To say you have been his mind since then is an understatement.
Never had a woman stood up for him like that before. Maybe a few girls in grade school when someone kicked dust in his face when playing with sand, but never has a woman in his adulthood stiffened her own backbone for him.
You looked like you were on your way to work that day, how you ended up at the gift shop he wasn’t quite sure but thankful nonetheless. The sureness in which you confronted Donna, the bravado in which you stood up for Steven, and the mercy in which you spared him when you spoke to him — Steven had to find ways to distract himself, or else he would become further intoxicated at the thought of you.
He idled around the gift shop shelves, Donna less obtrusive since then but still insistent on rearranging the inventory on display.
You approach Steven from behind, knowing his focus is on the boxes and toys on the shelves in front of him.
You tap his shoulder, crossing your ankles and standing on your toes. He’s slightly hunched, and you know if he stood a little taller he’d easily tower over you.
“How can I help you —” Steven turns, hoping it isn’t Donna coming to bother him.
He’s pleasantly surprised at seeing you here. You’re real, in the flesh as you look up at him, your head tilted and smile curious. He swallows, straightening his posture slightly in your presence.
“I hope you remember me,” You say to him.
“Y-Yes, from Friday when you went off on my boss,” Steven stutters, unsure which of your eyes to stare at.
“Yikes, my apologies if that’s how you remember me,” Your laugh rings in his ears. Steven hope he can scommit the sound to memory.
“No, no it’s not!” Steven verbally back pedals. “I could never forget such a pretty, um, such a, such a, umm…” Steven wants to crawl in the nearest hole and live there forever.
When you said your pick up line to Steven, he convinced himself you were joking with him to lighten his mood; now you’re back and talking to him, he wasn’t sure how to keep any of his thoughts on the rails.
“Why are you here?” He spits out.
“Good question.” You raise your eyebrow at him. “I was hoping to see you today, maybe during your lunch you could give me a quik tour of Egypt, considering you’re the only employee here who I know the name of.” You smile without looking down at his name tag. You go out on a limb with your forwardness, you don’t have anything to lose with going out of your way to know more of this Steven.
“And I figured the easiest way to make friends is to stalk them at work.” You shrug.
“S-Stalk?” Steven titters, trying to play along with your further joking.
“When do you take a lunch? Do you have time today to show me around?” You ask. You feel the instantaneous tension in the air, hesitation radiating off of Steven.
Every bone in Steven’s body tells him to turn you down. Strong headed, fearless, interested in him — everything Steven is not stares at him, waiting for an answer. The falter in your eyes is the reason for his decision. Someone like him shouldn’t have such influence over you, but you’re allowing him an opportunity, a chance to get to know someone like you.
“I can take my lunch in about thirty minutes, if that’s alright with you.” Steven shifts on his feet.
You beam at him, holding back in your smile to not bare him all of your teeth. You didn’t mind approaching Steven like a stray puppy, what matters taking the time to get to know him, gently usher him into wanting to spend time with you.
“Okay. I’m going to go grab myself a coffee then. Stay here,” You spin away from him, trotting over to the coffee stand.
Steven’s slump in relief, an exhale escaping his lips. Disbelief still hangs on his shoulders. Is this a date? No, this can’t be a date, you literally are asking him to show you around while he’s at work. You’re interested in him and nice enough to be patient through his obviously shy demeanor, Steven would be foolish to turn you down.
Steven’s break finally arrived and neither of you can believe meeting each other came by such happenstance. Your jokes and jives were humorously received, and Steven’s knowledge and excitement to show someone around the Egyptian exhibitions overshadowed his occasionally bumbling. From afar, an outsider would think you’re old friends the way your conversation flowed without missing a beat.
“Do you have a favorite god?” You ask Steven at some point in your mini tour.
“Taweret is most definitely towards the top of my list,” He nods his head at you. “I always imagine her being the kindest, having to look over children and women, yeh?”
“I completely agree.” You can’t help but return his enthusiasm. “I’d have to say my favorite is Khonshu, there’s just something ethereal about the way the moon shines down on the Earth every night.” You bring up.
“Oh…” Steven’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised at your answer.
“A reflection of the sun but individually beautiful in her own right,” Your fingers trail across the stone exhibit of the several members of the Ennead.
“Do you feel a connection?” Steven wants to know. You draw him in, warm and inviting, bringing light to his path the more he considered following you. You reflect more of the sun, blazing a brightness wherever you walked and your naturally sunny disposition since meeting him. You intrigue him even more with your preference to the moon.
“I guess you could say that.” You brush past him, your shoulder rubbing his. You were so adventurous to hook your arms with his, knowing his lunch break was coming close to an end. “Now show me where they keep the organ jars, I’d love to see those,” You grin.
Steven’s lunch break comes to an end too soon for the both of you. You want to continue chatting but Donna lingers around the corner, you can feel her snide staring from a few feet away.
“Well thank you for the lovely tour, I hope you charge me next time with how much information you packed into half an hour.” You tease.
“It-it was my pleasure.” Steven smiles, scratching the back of his neck.
You turn away and a frog is caught in Steven’s throat. He wants to call out to you, to hear your voice one more time before the next time he sees you, if there is a next time. How does he know you weren’t induldging in his politeness, or just wanting a free tour of he museum? No, his insecurities rang loud in his head but his heart knew the truth. You liked Steven and he was finding any Steven ridden excuse to tell himself otherwise.
As if feeling the unsureness radiating off of him, you stop and turn around, walking back up to the counter.
“Steven.” You sigh, your voice wavering as you spoke.
Were you nervous? You don’t have his number, you’re never at the museum except for the past few days where you walked in on purpose, only God knows if you’d ever even see him again without staying in touch. You can choose to have him remain a complete stranger, a small moment in time for both of you. But was he worth only that much to you?
You don’t know where your boldness stems from in asking your next question, other than knowing you have nothing to lose.
“Have you ever met someone and just felt that they were going to be important to you?” Your question is completely out of left field, turning Steven red as a strawberry.
Steven wants to say yes. Absolutely, incondesently, Steven knew you were someone that he was meant to hold dear. The small time together today, the few days before, when he laid eyes on you Steven knew in some capacity, he had to live the rest of his life with you in it.
“Yes. Yes, I have.” He admits.
You hold out your hand in silence, an expectant look in your eye. Steven hands you his phone, you put your name in his contacts and message yourself, and hands the device back to him.
“I look forward to seeing you around, friend.” You pat his hand that rests on the counter. You walk away from the counter, your heart hammering in your chest.
☾✩☽
You set your bowl on the coffee table and fix your position, crawling over to Steven. His lips are parted, awaiting your next move. His hands drop his ice cream on the floor, he turns away in a momentary panic but you place your finger on his jaw to refocus him back to you.
“Stevie…” You look him up and down, your other hand coming up to hold his jaw in place. “I know you know it, too. Friends don’t look at eachother like we do, Stevie.” You simper. You know you’re the only person on Earth who can get away with calling him that.
Your smile is so soft it brings tears to Steven.
He knows he wants this. Your warmth, your eyes, your time — everything you have to offer to him, is it okay to take you all for himself? Steven has known for a long time that you’ve wanted him but always thought you deserved better. You had so much potential to leave London, to see the world and experience the continents, though Steven never imagined it would be him you want at his side.
“Yes I know, love.” Steven closes the distance and meets your kiss. It was time to stop denying you, denying himself — Steven accepts all you have to give him. Plush, pink lips mold together, your moans and Steven’s gasps creating a silent symphony in your livingroom.