A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you guys like this chapter and I just couldn't resist the gif, forgive me :)

———

I stare at the phone in shock. My stomach fills with sudden dread at the thought of going to meet Damon at Halle Café.

For those that don't get the big deal, let me emphasize again; Halle Café.

The territory of my ex. The place which undoubtedly smells like the food that I'm craving right now. The place that was once my second home.

Halle Café is an untouchable place for me.

But then again...Damon is there. And maybe I am kind of bored. And maybe Kenneth isn't even in; maybe he's out doing something with a few friends now that he has a Damon sized figure to help him.

Maybe. The possibilities are endless.

I sigh as I stare at the text.

Come over to Halle Café?

Oh, the things I do for samosas...

I sigh and type out a quick 'sure' before I have the urge to change my mind.

I quickly wear a floral skirt that effortlessly passes my knees and a blue long-sleeved blouse. I put my hair into a complicated doughnut and neatly clip my scarf over my head. Then I apply cherry lip balm, mascara, and douse myself in a bit of perfume.

Good. I look good. I smell good.

I walk out of my room with my phone clutched in my hand and confidence laced in my footsteps.

———

I walk in front of Halle Café's big, tinted window and take a peek inside. The place isn't packed and I can't see Damon anywhere close to the counter. All I see is a blonde girl—Kenneth's type—sitting behind the counter, flipping through a magazine as she chews gum happily.

Cool.

I focus on my reflection on the window and take a deep breath. I look hot. I mean this in a very modest way.

But why am I still trembling?

Judging by the way my conscience goes silent, I have a feeling that it really doesn't have an answer for me.

I take another deep breath and exhale before looking into the Café once again. No one insight. No Damon, no Kenneth, no Mr. and Mrs. Hall. Just a few customers who are minding their businesses and bubblegum girl is too busy reading that magazine to even spare me a look.

Good.

"You, Paulina Suarez, don't have anything to worry about. You're beautiful and spontaneous. You are fun. You make pashminas look sexier than Gigi Hadid and your cheekbones are definitely Pinterest worthy. You are going to march in there and be yourself because you are confident. Nobody should make you feel otherwise."

I stare at my reflection for a few more moments and do a little curtsy, internally impressed with the impromptu speech.

"I wish I recorded that. So inspiring and whatnot," a familiar voice says beside me, just out of view from the window and I yelp as I jump.

Oh my God. Damon.

He's smiling and his hair is blowing in the wind. He's carrying two bags of groceries in one hand and he's wearing a wife-beater shirt that is really showing off his tan, toned muscles.

It's the season of Ramadan. If you can't ogle Dylan O'Brien, you can't ogle anything. No matter how nice he is. Snap out of it, Paulina, snap out of it!

I blink myself back to reality and clear my throat to reply when I notice the hulking figure behind Damon. My chest constricts as my eyes meet the person's blue-eyed gaze.

Kenneth Hall.

He's standing in all his six-foot glory; pearly whites, dimples, dark hair which isn't cropped closely to his head. Blue twinkling eyes, knowing smirk, pink lips...

I take a deep breath and look away from his amused face to turn back to Damon.

"Hey Steroid Pillow," I try for a wave but it looks meek and shy. I cringe. I don't do meek and shy.

"Hey Diadem. Let's go in. I'm practically on my break so we can have fun," I ignore the look Kenneth shoots at poor oblivious Damon. Instead, I nod and walk inside, internally begging my knees to remain strong.

The place smells heavenly. Coffee, sugar, and the sweet smell of cake and bread fills my nostrils.

My stomach grumbles in anguish.

Behind me, Damon laughs. "Oh, my holy muffin. Let me drop these bags and I'll be right back."

He practically sprints away with a slight swagger in his step and I can't help but smile.

I sit down in a random booth and sigh. I'm very aware of Kenneth's stare but I ignore it and make little doodles in Arabic on the table with my finger.

"So Paulina. Nice speech back there." He sits down right in front of me so that we're sharing a booth and I physically stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says. He sounds somewhat surprised that I'm actually making an effort to be nice to him. But, oh well. It's Ramadan, I have to at least try and be civil.

Despite the fact that what I really want to do is to poke his eye out with one beautifully manicured nail.

"So how has life been?" he asks me. He leans back against his seat and I feel my heart sink with dread when I see that he's trying to make himself comfortable.

Oh, no. I so can't do small talk. Not now.

He doesn't get the memo though.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. What's taking Damon so long?! "Look, Kenneth, I'd really appreciate it if you'd just continue with your work and leave me alone."

He frowns like he doesn't understand English. What should I do, speak Arabic? Or Spanish? I don't speak either so he has to manage.

"I'm just trying to be nice," he replies.

"Uh-huh. And I'm just trying to be happy and your aura is ruining that for me," I stand up as I notice Damon watching us with an unreadable expression on his face. "I'll see you around even though I really don't want to."

He looks slightly hurt by my words but I ignore it and quickly walk over to Damon. He's eating a doughnut and his expression reeks of worry.

"Is it safe to assume that you don't really like Ken?"

You might as well call him Barbie.

"You're safe to assume that Kenneth is my ex and yeah," I roll my eyes as Damon nods slowly. "Surprising, right?"

"Very," he chokes out while chewing. "He said he only dates blonde girls..."

I shrug and look at Kenneth over my shoulder. He's looking out the window—possibly admiring his reflection, the dumb cow—and I release a sigh before turning back to Damon.

"Yeah, well. He was right about that." I shrug lightly. It's not easy being dumped just because I'm not blonde. What does my hair color have to do with anything? Why couldn't he just love me, brown hair and all? I have nice hair! My hair is very healthy!

Damon must see the crestfallen look on my face because he looks at someone behind me.

"Hey Venus," he says. "Can you cover up for me if I'm not back early?"

I turn around to look at Venus, previously known to me as bubblegum girl. She looks like someone that really rocks the name like a Prada bag: blonde, beautiful, a nice smile...

Kenneth's type apparently.

She frowns slowly. "Sure Dame," then she eyes me slowly. "Just hurry up with the bitch."

My mouth drops open in shock. Damon bristles behind me. "She's not a-!"

I cut him off. "It's okay, Damon. She's just trying to be more relevant than she actually is."

I mentally facepalm at my remark. Ugh. This bakery brings out the worst in me, it's not even funny anymore.

"Okay," Damon replies. I can't detect a slight laugh in his voice. Rather, he sounds...disappointed?

Different emotions flicker across her face but ultimately, her mouth drops open in shock as I grab Damon's hand, letting out a small laugh. I pull him away from the toxic girl named after a planet.

I mistakenly catch Kenneth's eye as I walk towards the door. He glares at Damon's hand clasped in mine and I send him a cheeky smile before walking out quickly.

"I'm so sorry about Venus," Damon apologizes as soon as the glass door shutters to a close behind us. "She can be a bit—"

"Jealous?"

"Actually, I was about to say 'a bit of a bitch' but that works too," he chuckles nervously.

I let go of his hand and turn to face him. "It's okay. It felt good to put her in her place."

"Not worth it, though."

"Details, details," I brush off the guilt and we continue to walk off to God knows where.

"So. How did you and Kenneth break up?" he asks and from my peripheral vision, I see him turn towards me. I press my lips into a straight line and he seems to get the idea.

"Okay. Too personal. Sorry."

"It's okay," I shrug and start playing with the end of my scarf as I quickly change the subject. "So where are we going?"

His smile turns devilish. "Well. What makes you happy?"

"Uh, reading?"

He groans like he's in pain. "Why are the cool ones always likely to be such book lovers?"

"That, young Steroid Pillow, is because book lovers are ultimately cool and we'll rule the universe with our imaginations and dreams," I pat his arm in a mock gesture of comfort and he rolls his eyes. I laugh.

"Do you have another hobby? That doesn't involve books? It's summer and I'd rather not see another book till its over, thanks."

I roll my eyes. "Ogling Dylan O'Brien."

"Cool, I stare at my poster of Selena Gomez before I go to bed. We have something in common."

I laugh at this revelation. It's surreal that this is literally my third day of knowing about this guy's existence and I'm so comfortable around him.

It must be a blast of black magic or something.

"You have a really weird laugh," Damon says with a chuckle. "It sounds sarcastic but then your eyes light up so I know that it really isn't."

I shrug. "When you laugh, your hair starts fanning around your face like some second-hand version of Orlando Bloom under a halo."

"Thanks," he shakes his head at me and rolls his eyes. "For that, I'm not making you samosas for a week."

"Damon, my very own Steroid Pillow. There's no need to be harsh," I internally salivate at the thought of his spicy samosas. Definitely, an A+ to my taste buds and a golden star sticker added to the mix when it comes to the reaction of my stomach.

"Pfft. Sweet talk won't do," he tuts slowly. "Hey Diadem?"

"Yeah?"

"We're just walking and I think we're having a really good time, don't you think?"

His dark eyes twinkle and I smile, hoping that my cheekbones aren't making my blush much more obvious.

"Yeah. I think so too."

———

I sigh as I stare at the basket of food on my bed. Yet again, Damon had to rush off home to do...whatever so he simply left all the food for me in various takeaway packs with notes attached.

Sure, the notes are really sweet but seeing him lifts my mood. Literally. He's a ball of sunshine.

My room door opens and I raise an eyebrow as Vanessa walks in. Her face is void of makeup and she's already in her sweats.

"Looks good. I want some," she practically pounces on my bed with a grin on her face and I roll my eyes. Didn't she take in a box of pizza into her room not too long ago?!

But because I'm nice and awesome, I decide to share my food. I open the plastic container full of fruit salad and give her a toothpick. She stares at it—the toothpick—confused.

"The fuck do I need a toothpick for?"

"To pick at the fruit, you cow. There's only one fork and there's no way in hell that I'm letting you go commando on the fruit."

She grins. "Oh my God, the mental image of that is so weird, ew."

I chuckle as she takes the toothpick and pokes a piece of pineapple with it. Then she starts to eat the fruit with gusto.

"This is some good fruit," she says through a mouthful of pineapple. "It's so sweet, wow."

I smile in agreement and nod before stabbing at a strawberry with my fork. I mean, she doesn't need to know that the person who made the salad is ten times sweeter.

A/N: I hope you really loved this update. Please vote and comment and maybe share? Muah x