Chapter 12: It Makes You Who You Are. And You're Perfect.

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"No way." I said, shaking my head.

I walked down the street with my arms crossed, swiftly dodging other pedestrians. Thomas catching up right behind me, trying to justify what he just said. "It's unsanitary." He claimed.

"Unsanitary?!" I scoffed. "How have you lived in New York your entire life and haven't eaten from a single hot dog stand?" That surely had to be against some sort of New Yorkian law.

"I just haven't okay, can you let it go?" His tone was somewhat pleading and I kind of felt bad for making it into a bigger deal than it actually was.

We reached the end of the street and were standing right in front of the gates of our destination; Central Park. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something metallic and quickly turned my head to it. A little smirk forming on my lips. Before he could comprehend the fact that I was actually dragging him behind me towards the cart, we were standing right in front of it, met with the owner's welcoming face.

"My friend here has never had an NY hot dog before." I sighed, shaking my head. The owner, whom I'm assuming's name was Marcel because it was painted on the front of the cart, looked from me to Thomas with a look of disbelief. He began to shake his head and I shifted to be standing next to him behind the cart and shook my head as well, trying not to burst out laughing. Thomas put his hands in his pockets and shrugged, his bottom lip in a semi-pout.

"That won't do." Marcel waved his hands in the air and grabbed two hot dog buns. In a matter of seconds, he filled the buns with hot dogs, ketchup, mustard and a dozen of toppings each. He then placed them in little plastic packets and handed them to us.

"What are you doing?" Thomas asked, grabbing my hand.

"They're not going to pay for themselves." I replied, trying to free the hand in which my purse was in.

"I'll pay." He insisted.

"It was my idea."

"And now I'm paying."

"I can't let you do that."

"Oh yes you will."

"You know what?" Both of our heads snapped to the direction of Marcel who we totally forgot about for a second. "Since that right there's your first ever hot dog, it's on the house."

Problem solved.

We thanked him, heading back to the big, metal entrance of the park. Soon enough, we found an empty bench close by and sat. Thomas eyed the marvelous creation in his hands and analyzed it. Heck, he even opened it and stared judgmentally at its contents. "Eat it or I'll have to force feed you." I threatened, taking a bite out of my own hot dog.

"I wouldn't mind that at all." He said with a wink. I rolled my eyes and watched carefully as he brought it to his mouth. He took quite an enormous bite of it before chewing. I mean, if I were tasting something for the first time, I wouldn't just take a big old bite out of it.

I guess he really does trust my judgment.

I watched his face closely, looking for any sort of clue as to what he thought of it. "So....?" I asked curiously. "Do you like it?" He swallowed the big chunk he had been chewing for a while and shook his head. The gigantic, hopeful smile I had been wearing slightly dropped. I couldn't believe he didn't like it. Why didn't..

"I love it!" And with that, he scarfed down the rest of it in no time. I felt achieved by the fact that I actually got him to try a food he never had before.

Do people who work at hot dog stands never eat it themselves? I mean, do they just stare at the thing all day? Did they get fed up with having to prepare the same thing every single day, being surrounded by the same smell 24/7 to the point where it makes them sick? I don't think I could ever get sick of coffee. I'm practically a walking caffeine machine.

A hand waving in front of my face brought me back to reality. "What?" I asked.

"You didn't even notice that I ate the other half of your hot dog." He confessed, with no guilt whatsoever. "You do that a lot, don't you?"

"Do what?" I asked, eating the little pieces of radish left in my packet.

"Dozing off." He said. "It's like those moments in That's So Raven when she'd get a vision and look into the distance." His comment made me laugh. He was actually comparing me to the awesome psychic that was Raven Baxter. "The only differences are that you can't see the future and you actually look cute when you're zoned out. Raven just looked straight up scary."

I pushed him, still laughing at the little comparison he just made. I never thought about what other people saw of me when I daydreamed. The thought had never even crossed my mind. "I don't know how to stop."

"You don't need to." He said, taking the now empty packet from me and getting up. "It makes you who you are. And you're perfect."

***

He called me perfect. I'm far from perfect. Perfect? I'm not perfect. Perfection is overrated and nonexistent. Perfect? Nah. But why would he think that way of me? Has he seen me? Me? Perfect? Pffft.

"You're doing it again." Thomas exclaimed, shaking me by my shoulders. "As much as I'd love to sit here and watch you daydream all day, I think it's about time we got up. I'm getting a cramp."

"You really need to choose your words more wisely." I told him as I got up. "Watch you all day? You freaking creep."

"Hey, at least I'm one hella fine creep. You don't mind." He said, poking my cheek with his index finger.

I swatted his hand away from my face and walked in a random direction. I obviously didn't know where I was headed but I didn't mind one bit. I was mesmerised by the rays of sunshine squeezing their way through the branches of the trees. It just made me want to reach out and grab it. "I wish I could touch sun rays."

"It would probably burn you." Thomas replied. He raised a finger and passed it in front of a ray's path, blocking it from reaching the ground. "My finger would probably be cooking right now if sun rays were an actual object. You know, like how the surface of the sun has continuous explosions or outbursts of gases and what not. Imagine that being traveled down the rays and onto my finger." He shrugged and placed his now warm finger on my forehead. "Not a pleasant idea now is it?"

All of a sudden, it felt like everything and everyone around me was moving in slow motion. I couldn't move, it was as if Thomas' finger kept me in place. I couldn't speak, it was as if my vocal cords had closed up on themselves. All I could do was stare at him. At how genuinely happy he looked, at how his hair somehow looked as fluffy as a cloud and made me want to pet it, at how the sunlight was bouncing off of his brown eyes, making them look like shiny, chocolate ganache.

Damn you sun rays.

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A/N:

Ohhhh, is someone catching feelings?!

300 READS!!

Okay so idk how but between this chapter and the previous one, I got 100 more reads. How the fudge?? Not that I'm complaining!! Thank you so much ❤❤

I literally have so much on my plate rn; these next three weeks I have oral exams (when you get asked random questions by a doctor on your ones) and practical exams (lab related things; testing glucose levels, examining corpses. You know, the usual) and then straight after that, my big fat finals :)

Yay :)

Dedicated to It_Is_Complicated

Feel free to comment, vote, follow, whatever :')

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