Category : Stories

Sub Category : YoungAdult

“What makes you fall in love?” he asked. 
The hot coffee was cooling off on the table. He had just finished telling her the true story behind the reason the cups came with ‘Caution: HOT!’ labels and he was hoping for a different, more intimate topic. He looked at her, studying her facial expression, her body language. She was lost in thought; looking at the people watching people, smiling. There was a certain thoughtfulness to the distraction, he thought, watching the faces shift between frowns and smiles. He wanted to freeze those moments, those beautiful moments of clarity between movements. He was getting distracted too, he realised.
“Well?” he asked again.
“Hmm?” 
“What makes you fall in love? Tell me in one word.” 
“Woah, I don’t think I can put it in one word,” she protested.
“Just try,” he coaxed, smiling. 
She smiled back at him coyly, turning her gaze back to people watching. She was gorgeous, he thought to himself. No wonder men went to desperate ends to win her heart. 
“Fun, I guess," she said. "Yeah, there’s one word for you. I like meeting someone with good humour, someone who makes me smile.” 
He nodded. It was a good reason. 
“What about you?” she asked, watching him purse his lips and look down at the steaming cup of coffee. 
He thought for a minute before answering. “I like people watching. Sitting here, seeing people smile. I fall for that. That moment between a frown and a smile, that moment when the person intends to smile. That’s what I fall in love with, and it makes me happy, that smile.” 
She was smiling at him now, something a little warm behind her eyes. 
“And I love being a reason for people to smile,” he concluded.
“That’s really sweet,” she said. 
“So, what else? Give me another word,” he said, determined to pick her brain.
“Hmmm… I think, power? Or influence?” 
“Oh?”
She took another sip of her cappuccino before continuing. “Yeah, not like money power, but the ability to affect people, you know?” 
“Not really.” 
“Wait, I’m trying to explain.” She thought for a moment. “Like a musician can move a crowd, you know? Just not being a backbencher, but being able to change someone’s mood or affect them strongly in a similar way. That kind of influential, do you get it?” 
He nodded in answer, brows furrowed in concentration. “I can see the appeal in that. Interesting though, to know that that’s a factor.” 
“Of course it is. Not everyone can do it, you know? So when I do see it, it’s kinda special to me, makes me wonder.”
He smiled at her, lifting up his cup of long black. It wasn’t all that hot anymore, but he wanted to savour it a little bit more. It was an excuse to spend more time with her too anyway.
“I like sitting here," he said, "here at this café, wondering who I’d fall in love with next.” Sweeping his eyes over the crowd, he watched for the little tells and tales that would catch his attention. 
A girl walked to the counter to pick up her coffee, head tilted to a side as her phone was at her ear, held up by her shoulder. She smiled at something her caller must have said, and as she was walking towards her seat, she saw him looking at her. He flashed a quick smile and got a flustered one in return. She looked at him again after sitting down but he only saw her from the corner of his eye. He was already looking elsewhere.
“Now your turn,” she said.
“My turn?” 
“Tell me something more. You always have a poetic twist to everything. I like that about you.”
He twisted his mouth in concentration as his eyes scanned the room. 
“You see that girl there, with her hair up in a bun? There, near the window,” he tried not to point. “She’s got this look in her eyes that I’ve been curious about, something distant, something....." He shrugged and laughed softly. “I’m not one to be at a loss for words but she’s pretty hard to read, and there it is.” He smiled triumphantly as the girl they were observing looked in their direction. She met his gaze and smiled ruefully, something hidden, something he wanted to know more about.
“Yeah, nah, I don’t think I’d ever know.” 
“Know what?” 
“Sorry, talking to myself,” he replied with a shake of his head.
“I always wondered why they say you ‘fall’ in love, like, it's not painful to feel love, is it? You’re the poet, you explain to me.” 
He hummed at her question, it was an interesting one.
“I think it’s because of the unexplainable feeling, where you really can’t reach out and grab onto anything to stop the feeling?” he replied, watching her face for a reaction as he took another sip of the warm coffee, enjoying the feeling in his mouth. “I guess when you see or experience that person who excites you in every way or makes you feel safe and wanted, meets the criteria you’ve set… you might not have a choice anymore.” 
He locked gazes with her before continuing, “You see, if you meet someone who makes you laugh, moves people around them with charm, and looks at you like the queen you are, you’d fall in an avalanche of feelings and love every moment of it.”
“Queen that I am?” she asked with a mischievous glint in her eye. 
“You know I’d compliment you every chance I get, right?” he replied. 
“It always catches me off guard,” she replied, giggling. “So, have you fallen in love anytime recently?” she asked him over her cappuccino. 
“Not really, a few near misses to be honest,” he replied, shrugging. “There were a few people I thought I would inexplicably fall for, but the feelings faded before they went too far. Infatuations, I’m afraid.” 
“Ah yes, that fool’s gold, eh?” 
"Yup, that which confuses you, blinds you until you realise how that which you saw first was the undoing.” 
“There you go, being poetic again,” she said, teasingly. 
“I thought you liked it?” 
“I do, I’m just pointing it out. Don’t stop.” 
“Anything for your highness.” 
She giggled again.
“Even for the best of us, its hard to tell the difference between the earnest, heartfelt love and the infatuation, that attraction to the little things you thought excites you to no end.”
“What should we do when that happens?” 
He hummed again at her question. It was a good question, one he’d been trying to answer for as long as he could remember. 
“We just take it with a pinch of salt, I guess? You try to be wary, know to take it slow, look out for the signs....." He threw his hands up in mock frustration as he concluded, “As you can see, I really don’t know how to answer that question.” 
She shrugged and smiled at him, her gaze dropping down to the half-full cup in her hand. 
“One can never be too careful with who they fall in love with, I believe. Such a fickle thing, love is, isn’t it?”
He sat back in his armchair, nodding in agreement, watching the way her hands held the cup tenderly.
“Whatever it is in the end, love is always an effort, in my experience.” 
“Oh? That’s something I haven’t heard a lot. Why do you say that?” 
He hummed again at her question. It was another good one, one that he’d known the answer to after one too many heartaches. 
“It’s an effort because once the initial infatuation fades, you need to choose to love, choose to give that time and make that effort because none of it happens automatically. It’s our mistake to assume that, and then we lose everything as a consequence.” 
“Have you made that mistake?” she asked quietly. 
“One too many times, but never again.” 
“I hope so.”
By chance, the two of them looked up as a woman walked in, curly brown hair bouncing on her shoulders, a few strands across her eyes hastily pushed back. He almost sighed at the sight.
She noticed. “Something about her, isn’t it?” 
He nodded, not worried about embarrassing himself in front of his friend. “There’s something about the way she bit her lip, the way her hands look like those of a musician or an artist, that gets to me.” 
“She really is gorgeous, and she has a good fashion sense too.” 
“I agree," he replied earnestly. "Gosh, she just smiled at me, did you see that?” 
She laughed heartily, “I sure did. What do you want to do now?” 
“I don’t know, I think I should probably say hi?” 
“Do you think you’re falling in love?” 
He looked at her, a slow smile spreading across his face as he replied, “One way to find out,” before getting out of his seat.
As he walked away, she said to herself, “Like an avalanche of feelings, and you’d love every moment of it. Every moment indeed.”