There she sits, brunette hair, bright eyes, joking with the bartender. She only makes the warm air warmer with her loud, charismatic laugh in reply to something he says in response, that fades into a smile.

She’s easily the happiest person in the room, from what I could tell, practically glowing, radiating pure-light like a Greek Goddess. She takes a sip from her coffee — she’d been here for ages without a single drink so she clearly wasn’t a heavy drinker; which was odd to me considering this place consisted of only heavy drinkers, students from the university a 15 minute drive away (like me) and families of four stopping for sub-par food.

Elise, my best-friend told me to talk to her, Elise left 20 minutes ago. I knew I wasn’t the most confident guy in a room but never had I been so nervous, I mean, she’s way out of my league. Look at her.

If it weren’t for the thought of never seeing her again, I wouldn’t have downed my entire glass of rum, payed with a 5 dollar bill and gotten up.

As I get closer, her thick, London accent becomes more apparent. A foreigner.

she emits the strawberry aroma of whatever perfume she had sprayed herself with before coming out; and I’m clearly not the only guy in the room staring at her. She is noticeable, so it doesn’t come as a surprise what was a surprise is that she hadn’t come with a group of pretty, charismatic girls like her.

I run a sweaty palm through my ginger locks of hair, brushing specks of fries off my button-up self-consciously because in front of a high maintenance girl like this? I couldn’t make myself look a mess who spilt food all over himself like an idiot.

I clear my throat, prepping myself for the intimidating interaction ahead but before I go to take a seat on the stool next to her, she turns around to face me. Seeing her this close, I could just about pass out.

It’s as if her skin had been brushed over with a coat of rich-gold, her brunette hair more perfectly put together, her emerald eyes 10x more captivating. She looked a few years older than me, I’m 18 years old, she looks alot more mature, not physically but mentally, the way she’s put together, her thick bun with only two strands hanging out to form a fringe, her dress creaseless matching with her earrings as if she’d been planning this look for years.

She blows a strand of hair out of the way of her face before speaking.

“Take your shot, stranger” She grins but it dissipates back into that same smile I’d seen a few minutes ago. “You’ll only get one”

I’m flustered for a second too long, feeling my face go pink, was this such a common occurrence for her she was this casual about it? Of course it was. Well, she must atleast be a _little_ interested right? Otherwise she wasn’t have offered; either way, I’ll take my chances.

Thanks for reading <3