I was in my own world, minding my own business, but he chose my table, disrupting my groove. He has no manners and doesn't think twice about the weight of his words. Why me? There was something that intrigued me about him. I couldn't explain it, but something kept me from throwing my drink in his face and sending him away. He must have slipped something into my chai tea to make me wonder about the man behind those beautiful eyes of his. Who was he?
When I woke up this morning, I didn't plan to meet the woman I wasn't strong enough to walk away from. She's here, in my favorite coffee shop. She answers my questions with more questions. It should be irritating as hell, not sexy. Or maybe I was blinded by her curly hair, neo-soul vibe, and her good taste in music. Who in the fuck is this woman?