"A favorite quote?"

"Mhmm."

"You mind sharing?" I asked her with a slight wave of nervousness.

She was silent for a couple of seconds before her words came out still and comforting.

"I don't mind. It's a line that I read in some poet's autobiography. I float with your melodies; I drown with your sins."

She worked her magic and it's my favorite quote now.

"Who is he?"

"Who?"

"The poet."

"It's a she, and this I do mind sharing."

I always ask too much, or is she just highly restrained? But she's perfect, and I am flawed. I don't deserve her heart. And I know I don't deserve her name either. Still I persist with selfishness and greed. I demand what I don't deserve with a raised, unashamed head. I act like she owes me a chance while in reality she owes me not even a second of her time. I am the karma that she doesn't deserve. I am the black hole the sucks all her perfections in. I am the chains stranding this angel's ankles. If only she knew what a hollow parasite I really am, she wouldn't stay for another second. And still I insist on holding on. I know I need her. Maybe she's my new beginning, the beginning that washes me clean. I would do anything to know that I will have her tomorrow and the day after and the day after and every single moment of my life. What is it that her name would tell me anyways? All I need to know is right there in the wild hills of her daring, hazel eyes.

She noticed that I was lost for a while and she looked a bit bored if not annoyed; little did she know that I was only lost in the seas of her.

"If you're busy thinking, we can meet some other time."

"I am busy thinking... about you."

Did I say too much? God knows I was only honest.

"You compliment a lot. Should I take that as a habit or a desperate try to please?"

"Neither. It's just your effect on me. And that, my lady, isn't a compliment."

"I highly believe that you are some Russian spy trying to lure a loyal American woman. First you know my name and then you drag all the other classified national top secrets out of me. But that's not happening. Not on my watch," and she narrowed her eyes at me.

I know I was supposed to laugh at her joke and then maybe throw one myself, but I was so overwhelmed by her cuteness, her purity, her beauty, and all the things she does without even noticing- like the way she wiggles her head when she gives me a mean smile or the way she curls that same hair lock around her left index when she zones out- that I just stared at her with a really wide grin. I made it so creepy. So very creepy. And what even shocks me a bit is that even though I realized I made a weird scene and that I should take a hold of myself, I couldn't. The idea of looking away or changing the subject seemed miles away, and I was already too weak to reach for it.

Then she looked away, seeming uncomfortable. Of course she is. Like what the hell am I doing? I am literally driving her away. If I wasn't panicking at the moment, I would laugh out loud at how ironic can someone be, since driving her away is the only thing I am trying not to do.

"Would you be interested to hear a story?"

"Literally anything other than you staring at me in such a creepy manner would be better."

So raw and too honest. She made a clear point that she didn't mind pointing out when things got heavy and uncomfortable. Can she ever have like a mild flaw? I doubt it.

"There was a man that lived for the sake of exploring. Not places but lives. He wanted to live it all. He was never the nerd type, but he was definitely the smart type. School was a piece of cake. Same with SATs. He never felt the weight of the present so he easily reached for the future. He wanted all he can get and even more. Some called it hollow greed others ambition, but he cared not. He knew what he was after and listened less to what others said. Then he got a partial scholarship to an engineering school, one that he most admired. He was happy, I guess, but if anything he felt it was accomplishment. Round one is over, he though, now round two. He hadn't the joy of it all, and he could feel that missing. And after he graduated with a degree in engineering, he started working. It was easy to find a job with recommendation letter like his. He never went under A+ in all his studying years, plus projects and fares that he aced effortlessly. He signed a two years contract with a pretty famous organization. And he started working. He was the approaching torch that ignited all its surroundings. He did a lot for the organization, and with a lot I mean A LOT. Projects were submitted two days after their assigning date and one month before submitting date. And somehow his projects always made their way to the first rank every time. He was talented and there was no way to hide this. He improved more than one former organization sketches and projects and reestablished even more. He was awakening the whole institution and enjoyed it. And they knew how to pay him well too. In three month, he could afford his own flat in a decent neighborhood, a sports car, a pretty fancy dressing room, but not fancier than its contents.

He was living the time of his life, and everyone envied him. Actually, in only three month, he made countless enemies in his workplace. Some hated him for his competition and selfishness and other hated his success and believed he deserved it not. To sum it up, he was hated by everyone, except the organization's administration of course, since he knew how to feed their pockets well. Friends, he had none. But all that never mattered to him. He didn't care much about friends or whatsoever and even less about love. He never believed that one needs these relationships to thrive. He was enough. Or that's what he believed. Because after one year the glory of his rise ended suddenly. He no longer liked his solitude. He started to doubt if he even had a point from the start. Depression crept over. It entrenched in his very existence that he couldn't even get off bed. He started skipping work day after another that they even thought he might be dead or something, and when they found out he wasn't they started sending him warning emails and trimming off his salary. Day after day expelling threats piled up and the super star was now beginning to fade in the darkest holes of oblivion. His parents called more than once to check on him, but he couldn't explain what's going on with him so he never picked up. He became weaker everyday till one day he couldn't leave the bed or pick up the phone. He thought he was dying and he embraced the idea. Then one day someone knocked on his door, and it won't stop. He was losing his mind over the knocking and he couldn't do it anymore. He forced his legs off the bed and tried to stand. It was hard but he has always been a fighter. He opened the door to find his brother-in-law. His features changed from sadness and desperation to pity and disgust. He could feel the disgust boiling inside his brother-in-law along with hundreds of questions. Then the intensity of the scene broke into a single line. He told him that his parents died in a car crash and that he should clean up and come home. He wasn't catching up though. His body was too weak to understand any of what's going on. It felt like he wasn't living anymore and that he was just a third person to his story. He wanted his family back. He now then thought he knew what he wanted. It was a strike that woke him up, and, although it was too late, he decided to hold on. After two weeks, he sold his flat and went back to his family house. Not that he needed the money, which was the last thing he needed, but he wanted to sense his family's presence. He wanted to live close to his sister and niece. He wanted a new life. But the odds weren't on his side. His brother-in-law got the job of his dreams waiting, and that would've been great, if it hadn't been in Morocco. He couldn't do anything but wish them farewell. After all he chose the life of isolation and self-ascending. That was his choice. But then he decided to end this first life. Start over. Be a committed person this time, just to try understanding how it feels to be committed to someone. But he failed. He couldn't be that person, so he went back to his old self. The lone-aspirer. And so he did. All his relationships were superficial; none lasted over a month. He was lighter on his own. He no longer liked working under the roof of an organization and carrying its name; he wanted to be his own boss. So he free-lanced. And believe it or not, he could make per year triple his annual salary in the organization. And it has been like this for five years now, until he tripped into the most beautiful creature alive. She was just so marvelous that he forgot what he was. He no longer had his old motives or routine mannerism. He was confused. For the first time in his life. No plans, no next moves, and no idea about what the hell he was doing. He only wanted to keep her close, to see her every day. He didn't care if he made a fool of himself. He fancied that one day she would like him. He knew he was too flawed for her, but he didn't want to think about that. He did a lot of things that he regrets, and he has harmed even more people. He was no saint and deserved no angel. But he found an angel in the mid of the way, and, unintentionally I swear, he fell for her. He doesn't know if he has the right to ask her to trust him, but he knows that if she did he would do anything to make her happy. He will do the impossible to make her like him back. Because he thinks he loves her with all her mysteries and secrets, with all her sarcasm and impatience, and with all these mood swings she had been showing lately. He thinks she's perfect. He thinks she's his salvation. If only she would give him a chance to show her how much he cares... do you think she will?"

"Wow... you talk too much, I have to admit. And, by the way, the third person narration technique almost set me off, so don't do that again, please."

"I won't. But does that mean there's again? I mean we will meet again right? Because I called you today, and I had a vibe that yesterday was a failure and that you will ask me to get lost."

"I was. Not that yesterday was a failure. It's just that I know we won't last. And that I will probably end up as one of your one-month-girlfriends. You wouldn't be able to go by my way, and I am not settling for yours, so why the trouble? I know this because I have been through it. Guys usually find me tempting and then frustrating. And you don't seem a lot different. But you just gave me like a three hours speech, and it would be cruel to wave at you and leave. So here's the deal: I am whatever you want to call me until I decide to share my name, I work five days a week in a small bookstore two streets west, I hate birds and snails, I am 27, I love reading, and I live in my parents flat. They're dead, and I own the flat now. That's all you need to know about me, or all that I am willing to share at the moment. If you want to stick to that and keep hanging with Hazel then she wouldn't bother give you a chance. If not, then it's farewell my friend. And don't roam around me, looking for answers from people I know because that means game over."

She's crazy in all the right ways.

"Will I have to wait forever to get your number?"

She smiled, taking my heart down. Then my phone rang.

"Sorry. I will take that real quick," I said leaving the table, "Hello?"

"Mr. Wills?"

"Yes"

"I think I found the apartment you're looking for."

I looked at her, and smiled unconsciously.

"That's great."