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The train station is as choked as ever, people bustling through the smallest of spaces and darting between slow groups of tourists as their cameras flash. A steady hum of voices merges together as the trains rattle through, bright flashes of colour flooding the tunnels before screaming into the darkness.
He’s been stood at that damn map for the past ten minutes.
I’ve been watching from the coffee kiosk with a drink that I doubt has ever seen a bean, more out of needing somewhere to rest my eyes than genuine interest. I can see his fingers working his hair, worry set in his shoulders.
With a sigh I dispose of my drink, wandering to the schedule beside him with a tentative smile. There’s something achingly familiar about the man, something I recognise in the deep blues of his eyes and dark tangles of hair.
“You alright there?”
He jumps at the sound of my voice, returning my smile. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Well,” I laugh, “can I help?”
He scratches the back of his head, fingers dispersing his rich curls. “I’m trying to get to the gallery.”
“The one in the city?”
He nods, smiling. “I’m visiting from the States, figured I couldn’t miss the artist they’re showcasing. But it looks like I’m not gonna make it in time for the opening.”
His face falls, eyes clouding as he looks back to the board.
“Not necessarily, I’m heading there as well. Train’s in a few minutes, then it’s just a tram or two. We head there together?”
“Thank you so much,” he cheers, ecstatic as he follows me to the platform, train rushing past in a surge of wind. “You can abandon me as soon as we’re there. I don’t want you to feel obligated to be my guide.”
“Don’t be silly,” I smile, waving away his words and stepping onto the train, “you seem nice, and like you’re not gonna murder me. I do have to go to the Theatre later on though.”
His eyes widen, settling into the seat beside me. “No kidding.”
“What?”
“Me too!”
“You’re serious?” I laugh, “looks like the universe is trying to set us up. I’m Y/N.”
“Jon.”
“That’s where I know you from!” I exclaim, shaking his hand a little eagerly, “I watch you online. Oh god, sorry. Is that weird? I swear, I’m the regular amount of weird.”
“No, no it’s fine! It’s not the reason you’re accepting a date with me, is it?”
“Date? Is that what this is?”
“Can it be?”