Facebook Official (Mini Contest Entry)

Spain x Reader


What was this?

You tried to form a coherent thought, but that one word just floated lazily to the surface of your mind.

Single.

He had switched his Facebook status to single, only minutes before you'd logged on. The little pink heart next to his name was mocking you. Another sentence bubbled up to join the word. The 'heart' symbol actually represents the plant used by the Romans for birth control. You weren't sure where you'd read that. It didn't really seem relevant at the moment.

You leaned back from the screen, and the leather under your butt groaned in protest. The coffee shop was mostly empty, but for the cute guy behind the counter. His green eyes locked with yours as you glanced around the room. You held his gaze, and he smiled.

"Can I help you with anything else, señorita?" he asked. "More coffee?" You shook your head and gestured to you drink, which you had barely touched.

"I'm good," you said simply. He continued to smile, and you looked away. You eventually found the computer screen again, though the message that had temporarily broken you had been pushed offscreen by other, less important posts. You scrolled down until you found it again.

He changed his status to 'single.'

You phone buzzed in your pocket, and you slid it out to check the caller ID. It was him. He was going to tell you that it was an accident, that his idiot friends had hacked his account and changed his relationship status to screw with him. He was going to tell you that he still loved you. You pressed 'talk.'

"Hey," you said.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, I saw your status-"

"Oh, good. That makes this easier."

That was odd. You didn't seem to have a heart anymore. It appeared to have absconded with your lungs and stomach.

"I'm breaking up with you."

"Okay." It slipped out before you could process his words. How as it that those five words had managed to utterly defeat you?

"Okay. Well… bye, then."

Beep. Silence.

You were still holding the phone to your ear, unsure how exactly to move your arm. Down, right? What was down? You mustered all of your concentration and tried to set your phone down. Instead, it slipped from your fingers and clattered to the floor, where the battery popped out.

The sound startled you out of your reverie. The Spanish guy was watching you again, but you didn't care. You pushed your laptop away and put you head down on the table. You should be crying, right? You wanted to cry. The tears just wouldn't come.

"¿Se encuentra bien, señorita?"

You jerked back up, a bit frantically. That guy again. He had fixed your phone and set it down on the table. You stared at him blankly, unable to put in the effort to decipher the words coming out of his mouth. He must have realized that you couldn't be bothered to understand his question, so he rephrased it.

"Are you alright?"

A sigh escaped your lips and you unconsciously started playing with your hair. What were you supposed to say? Your mind was sort of stumbling about like a lonely drunk who'd been kicked out of the bar, though your mouth still seemed sober.

"No."

He immediately took a seat opposite you, as though you were his friend rather than his customer.

"Tell me about it," he said.

And you did. You poured out your heart to this stranger with the curly hair and the tan skin and the sexy ass (you would never admit it, but you had sneaked a peek after he'd brought you your coffee). You told him all about your boyfriend (Ex-boyfriend, you reminded yourself) and how it was Facebook Official before it was Official Official, and somewhere along the line the tears started to fall. It was at this point that he got up and made you scoot over so that he could put his arm around you in a comforting side-hug and murmur soothing words in Spanish. And you just kept talking. Eventually the topic turned to your friends, then your family, and then to your interests. He kept you talking until your eyes had dried and you began to feel like a human being again.

You weren't sure how long it was before it turned into an actual conversation, but you eventually ran out of steam and fell silent, allowing him to pay you back in turn by telling you all about himself. Su nombre era Antonio, and he had two younger brothers who lived in Italy. His two best friends were, according to him, legally insane. ("You just missed them, señorita. They left right before you got here.") He loved tomatoes and the sun.

Your laptop's screen eventually faded to black as its battery died. You stupidly tried to wake it back up, then glanced out the shop window. You were surprised to see your own reflection looking back at you. It was too dark to see outside. Antonio followed your gaze and gave an exclamation of astonishment.

"¡Dios mío! Is it really that late?" He stood up and went to the window to flip the sign to closed. You snapped your laptop shut and packed it up. You felt a lot better after talking to Antonio, but the idea of leaving was slowly starting to eat at your insides. You didn't want that feeling of emptiness to return, but you couldn't just follow Antonio home. You weren't sure you could make it through the night alone.

The sound of your name on Antonio's lips drew your attention.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked. You nodded.

"Yeah, I think so." You checked your phone so that you didn't have to lie while looking at his gorgeous eyes.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said obliviously. "But just in case…" He strolled behind the counter, pulled out a notepad and a pen, and scrawled something on a sheet of paper, which he tore out and handed to you.

"Mi número de teléfono," he explained. "You can text me if you want to talk some more, ¿sí?"

You stuck the paper into your pocket with your phone.

"Sí," you smiled.