Unwritten Words, post three

I was sitting inside a small, bright cafe. It was surprisingly warm, and the red chair I was seated in was velvety. I held a cup of bon chocala in my hand. Hot chocolate. I still couldn't believe what I had done. It felt weird to be sitting here in this chattering warm room full of the steamy smells of hot milk and chocolate. Looking, rather curiously at a guy whom I had ran into on a street. I don't know why agreed to go get hot chocolate. I feel stupid right now. I guess something felt safe about Orlando. I guess I just followed that instinct that he was okay. Maybe is was one of those subconscious things that my mom always talked about.
"So, you are American?" Orlando asked.
I jumped. I had zoned out again. " Yeah, I'm a Junior on college. What about you?"
"I live here," Orlando said slowly. " I work in the vine yards with my dad. For now, anyway. I'm studying photography and science."
"Really? I'm majoring in writing."
"Really?"
I knew then I had found someone worth keeping.