Barstool Condolences Pt.3

The sight of her caused him to shift in his seat, the memories had already begun flooding back into his mind, pushing against all the walls and barriers he had built over the years - ready to overflow. When he finally caught a full glimpse of her face, his drink lost its flavor - something that no longer was important to him or worthy of his time. Boring. Dull.

Looking down into his drink, he stirred the ice around in the bottom, lost in thought about her. He didn't want to look up - he hoped that if he didn't see her, she wouldn't notice him.

Everything he remembered was there.

Even across the dimly light room, her beauty still shown through, parting the swirling, lingering smoke a head of her as she made her way to the bar. Head down, hidden beneath the hood of her jacket, in between the quick steps, he could still feel her. It was one of those rare auroras that had the ability to warm a room. She didn't need to say anything, do anything, or look at you. If you were in her presence you felt it. You were lucky.

His eyes followed her, hovering over her until she took a seat. She ordered - he knew what it'd be. The bartender returned with an amaretto sour. When she took a sip, he looked at the corner of her lips. Waiting. On cue, the sides of her mouth curled up into a tiny grin. That hadn't changed.

They hadn't spoken in years - the last had burnt the final bridge. Yet, tonight, all he wanted to do was walk over to her, sit down next to her and introduce himself. People change, mature, evolve. He wanted to forget all that, throw it away, start anew.

Page one.

The only problem was that he was scared. He felt weak - if he stood up her felt like his knees would buckle beneath him. She had always had that effect on him. He had never been rocked to the core by a woman like she was able to do. Everything seemed to fade into the background when he looked at her - shift out of focus, become blurry, non-existant. Her beauty held complete control over him - he could become lost and never find his way out, blissfully stranded - drifting amongst her sea.

When he pulled himself out of his daydream, he was startled to find her staring at him, as he was gazing back at her. There was a slight tick in her face. Something had registered. He didn't know what to do - yet all he wanted to do was continue staring into her eyes - he felt himself being sucked back in. She controlled him.

Contact had been made.