Flag 11

- Elizabeth Andrews -

So far she hasn't avoided all my motives and I'm happy.

"Turn right at the next corner," giving her directions to a restaurant I've always wanted to take her to, if I could drive myself.

I mean, I'm not afraid of taking the wheel to my own hands or anything. It's just that family wants to have the boys learn to drive first.

"Turn left from here," I say, pointing to the road.

- Amber Hills -

"You can park around here," she gestures almost at the back of what seems to be a restaurant of Italian cuisine.

I park the car beside a tree surrounded by verdant and vibrant outdoor landscaping, wrapped with garden lights that I bet would look pretty cool at night when they light up.

We step out of the car. Lizzie takes me by the hand like she always does and my eyes are met with a beautifully decorated sign written, "The Italian View."

The place was unfamiliar yet it felt so surreal and welcoming. The walls were painted shades of red, yellow and orange, tones expressing warmth complementing the light colored bricks with accents of wood that blend so well with the lights and everything else.

"Come in," says the dark blonde-haired waiter with sort of windswept locks, opening the glass door for Lizzie and I, welcoming us with a soft grin.

"Table for two please," she says.

He leads us to the corner near a large framed photograph of "The Cliffs of Cinque Terre of Manarola, Italy," as labeled at the bottom right of the picture. He sets two menus on our table and walks off to the counter where all the other waiters and waitresses are. I sit comfortably, deciding what to order.

- Elizabeth Andrews -

The waiter walks towards our table, not taking his eyes off of Amber.

"May I take your order?" he takes a few glances at both of us, but his eyes appear to lock themselves on her.

"I'll take the Ricotta Spaghetti please."

"Got it! And what would the beautiful lady in yellow have?" he asks with a smirk on his face, looking at her intently.

"Huh? Oh, I'll take the Primavera Stuffed Chicken please."

He smiles and gazes at her a little too long. There's a tension between them and I don't like it.

"And we'll take two lemonades and a side of garlic bread," I try to break the tension.

"Of course, ma'am. Would that be all?"

He scribbles on his notepad and turns to face Amber again.

Asshole.

"Yes, that would be all. Thank you!" She replies.

He lets out a chuckle, "There's no need to be so polite and formal, ma'am," he says as he lifts the two menus off the table.

"Oh, um, sorry," she responds shyly.

Before he ushers himself back to the counter, he looks back at Amber.

"Chase, by the way, I'll be back in a bit," he says smiling widely.

I groan internally, no one asked for your name.

"God, he was definitely trying to flirt with you!"

"Or he's just being friendly."

"Really? Amber? Really?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

I mean, no one can deny the beauty she holds. Natural long delicate eyelashes, dreamy auburn eyes that could set cold nights on fire, and dark brown wavy hair falling and flowing smoothly over her perfectly sculptured face.

She's art.

She's poetry.

She's beautiful, charming, sweet and breathtaking.

She's everything I wish were mine.

...but to her, I'm just a friend.

After a few minutes, the big flirt waiter returns with our food.

"Thank you for waiting," he sets everything we ordered on our table.

"Enjoy the meal."

He walks off to the counter again, and Amber and I start practically devouring our meals.

"This is real good," she says with stuffed cheeks.

"Yeah, it's one of the best Italian restaurants out here."

"I've always thought of taking you here, 'cause I knew you'd like it," I say between giggles, looking at her with stuffed cheeks. She's so cute.

I turn to see that same waiter who seems to be completely enamored by Amber and it annoys me.

God, what an ass.

That smirk shows a different intention and I cringe.

We soon finish our meals and I ask for the bill. After paying, we stand up and head to the exit.

The waiter checks her backside out and it's extremely disturbing how he's basically eating her with his stares.

He inches closer to her, "Please do come again," he says with a cheesy, flirty smirk leaving me furious and it leads me into stepping in between them.

"Um--,"

"Right! eyes up here, mister," I say, eyebrows crossed, glaring at the waiter, cutting Amber off. I am literally so close to slapping him right now. I'm sorry. I can't help it.

"Liz?" She turns to me with a worried look on her face, taking my arm. He puts his hands up surrendering to my vicious stare.

"Let's go," she says pulling me towards her.

We step into her car and sit still in the silence.

"Well, that was something," she sighs.

"Well, I'm sorry but that dude was seriously checking you out and it bothered me!"

"Hey, it's ok," her tone, gentle and sweet yet it shakes every piece of me, making my heart beat wildly. She clasps my hand tighter and her left hand cups my right cheek.

The shades of her irises turn lighter, turning her eyes almost to the color of fire but it calms me.

"Thanks," she says sincerely.

"For what?" I ask.

"For wanting to protect me," she gives me a soft smile.

We stare at each other deeply as if longing for something. My eyes scan down from my favorite eyes to her pink plump lips.

And I know I shouldn't think of it right now, or rather, I shouldn't think of it at all.

But I wonder how it'd be like to feel the crash of her kiss.