The air between us shifted as my gaze softened, turning from one of detached observation to genuine curiosity. “So,” I began, a hint of a smile playing on my lips, “tell me more about your chameleon self. What colors do you wear when no one’s watching?”
Her laughter, a warm ripple that seemed to echo my revised perception, filled the small space. “Colors?” she mused, a playful glint entering her eyes. “Well, they say that you never get a second chance to make a great first impression. I know within a few seconds, with just a glance, you had already judged my social and economic level, my level of education, and even my level of success. Within minutes, you had also decided my levels of intelligence, trustworthiness, competence, friendliness and confidence. Although these evaluations happened in an instant, they can last for years: first impressions are often indelible sometimes, you might as well go on and tell me what you think.’
I leaned forward, captivated by her words. “you know, for the longest time I couldn't understand the meaning of the cliche "being compatible" - whether about a lover, colleague, team mate or friend. I now get it.’ I hummed. “There is so much more behind this superficial nauseatingly pragmatic diplomatic phrase -- it goes deep down to the true essence of someone, how they see the world, how they see and position themselves, how prepared/capable they are to back you, whether they can understand who you are and if they are prepared to break walls for you. Anything else is details. And with what you just said…”
Her gaze met mine, and for a moment, the world held its breath. “I am a bit of a charmer, aren’t i?,” she whispered, a playful smile tugging at her lips. I was about to respond, but she cut me off, tilting her head.
“Enough of me. You haven’t told me anything about yourself. Who are you anyway? What are you even doing here?”
“Haven,” I said quietly, peaking at her.
she gazed at me peculiarly. “Heaven? No, this definitely isn't Heaven. But I get why you’re confused, since I'm standing in front of you.” I stared at her and cracked a smile.
“I'm kidding. Well, kinda… I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two.”
“So, its Haven, not Heaven,” I said, louder than before. “My name’s Haven.
A crimson flush crept up her cheeks, staining them the color of a dancing candle lights. Her playful glint had morphed into a look of sheepish embarrassment. "Oh my god," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm so sorry. I absolutely thought you were flirting with me. This is so awkward."
I chuckled softly, the tension dissipating around us like morning mist. "No worries," I reassured her. "It's actually kind of funny. What made you think I was Heaven?"
She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before letting out a nervous laugh. "Well, you were so confident, showing me around like I was entering some exclusive paradise. And then there was your name..." she trailed off, pointing at my lips.
My face contained for her all possibilities of fierceness and sweetness, pride and submissiveness, violence, self-containment. She had never seen more in it than she had when she saw it first, because she saw everything then. The whole thing in me that she was going to love, and never catch or explain. I could tell.
I had just ushered her in at first, showed her somewhere to sit, once again, welcomed her to share a table with me and now chatted to her, but I guess I hadn’t discovered the power generated from a heart of service. Yes, people show up to life projecting a right of entitlement in which their needs are their first priority, and they will do whatever it takes to forward their own agenda without any concern for how it impacts others, but to her I was a complete opposite.
We talked for hours, losing track of time in the flow of shared stories, dreams, and vulnerabilities. The initial discomfort faded, replaced by the intoxicating warmth of genuine connection. I learned about her childhood spent exploring the wilderness, her passion for animal welfare, and the lingering ache of a past love. In turn, I opened up about my own dreams, my struggles with self-doubt, and my fascination with the complexities of the human mind.
With each revelation, her physical appearance mattered less and less. Her smile, her expressive eyes, and the way she held her head with quiet confidence—these became the marks of a beauty that ran deeper than skin and bone.
Purity twirled a strand of hair around her finger, her eyes reflecting the warmth of the lights. "There is something about the way your eyes light up when you speak about something they truly love," she mused, "The crinkles around your mouth that tell of genuine laughter and joy. The… the way you hold yourself, not with arrogance, but with the quiet confidence of someone who understands their value. And you do that when talking about me like you…"
She could tell that the look of experience suited me, especially because somewhere deep in my eyes, there still lurked a dangerous invitation to play. I had a quality of masculine confidence that was a thousand times more potent than mere handsomeness. Perfect good looks could leave her cold, but this kind of sexy charisma went straight to her knees.
Her words struck a chord within me. confidence washed over me as I remembered pretending to read slowly, to fit in, to be the "good boy" my mother wanted me to be. "Those are... those are profound observations," I admitted, surprised by my own sincerity and the vulnerability that crept into my voice.
A playful smile danced on her lips. "You're not so bad yourself," she countered, "though if you continue looking at me with those sexy eyes, I will assume you are flirting with me, Mr. Heaven."
I felt myself relax, a smile tugging at the corner of my own mouth. "It’s Haven and you know that, look who’s flirting now.” But since we are here now, you might as well tell me your first sight turn off."
She took a thoughtful sip of her water, her gaze fixed on the bustling banquet hall then outside the window. "People who see the world in black and white," she replied, her voice firm.
Her words resonated deeply. I found myself admiring her conviction to see the shades of gray that made life so complex, so human, just like I did. “Are you sure this is the first time you’re meeting me? I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. A pang on ambiguity in her voice. “Why do you ask?
“Seems like you’ve been stalking me, since you’ve just answered the question like I would have.” I said teasingly.
“Stop it.” She chuckled, her soft little hand resting on my palm which was placed in the table.
“You might as well hold my other hand since you already held the first one.” She subconsciously looked, and with slight effort tried to pull away but I firmly yet gently held her tiny delicate fingers, caressed her palm as I stretched my other hand.
Sitting across the table, she slowly brought her hand forward. Halfway across the table I met hers, and with fingers intertwining, I started humming Favorite song by Toosi. I see the look on your face, I see you’re hiding the hate, I see you’re looking for someone to scoop you off your feet…” she held my hands tightly with heavy eyes.
“It’s okay to allow ourselves to be loved, even if it's by a stranger” I assured her, my voice soft yet filled with conviction. "Because some of them truly matter, they see the good in us despite our flaws. When I look at you, I truly see you, not just the captivating facade, but the strength and vulnerability that resides within.”
"Sometimes maybe I’m so busy searching for the 'right' person," I confessed, "that I've missed the ones who are already here, the people who see the good in me even when I struggle to see it myself. Don’t be like me."
A smile bloomed on her face, as radiant as the city lights reflecting in her eyes. " Hey Purity, it's okay to be vulnerable," I added, my voice barely a whisper. "It's in those moments of vulnerability that true connection is born."
"I used to think finding the right one was about a checklist," She confessed, "a list of qualities that guaranteed compatibility and happiness. But you have shown me that a healthy connection isn't about external factors. It's about avoiding harmful traits and personalities, and being with a good person. A good person on their own, and a good person with you. Where the space between you feels uncomplicated and happy, where things just work. A good person like you.”
“I like being be the reason someone smiles, the reason someone feels loved and believes in the goodness in people.” I said. “And I’m glad to have been the same for you. Maybe one day we will own our stories, embrace our vulnerabilities, and stop waiting for permission to live life on our own terms."
The conversation flowed effortlessly, an unspoken understanding forming between us. We talked about our passions, our dreams for the future, and the fears that kept us awake at night. We laughed, we shared tears, and we learned to see the world through each other's eyes.
As the night drew to a close, a comfortable silence settled between us. I knew then that this wasn't just another night out. It was the beginning of something special, a connection that transcended physical attraction and delved into the depths of our souls, or so I hoped.
"Let me order a cab for you," I offered, the words leaving my lips before I could overthink them. "It's been a pleasure, but I don't want your magic to turn into a pumpkin on the way home." She laughed, a sound so genuine and pure it warmed my heart. "My chariot awaits," she agreed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
We walked outside. The air was serene, with waves sounding closer than usual. The full moon shone like a pearl in the night sky. the moonlight making it look as if all the houses had sunk to the bottom of a lake. A gust of wind and the petals from a wild cherry tree went dancing, white against the darkness, making her subconsciously slightly terrified.
“The cab will he here any minute,” I reassured her, placing my hand on her shoulder, then slightly patting her back before sliding down her arm, holding her fingers into mine and doing the same with her other hand. There she was again, standing elegantly in front of me, shyly confident but with the amusement of a little girl, and still as beautiful as she was when I first saw her.
‘Look up,” I said, rubbing my hands on her arms, warming her. “When there is the moon, the night automatically becomes beautiful. Even with you, there is no need for extra light, because just like the moon, you are enough. Promise me this," I said, my voice husky. "Don't let anyone dim your light. Shine bright, beautiful, and never apologize for being you."
Her smile was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. "And you," she whispered, leaning in close, "don't you ever stop surprising me, Mr. Mystery."
With a lingering touch of my hands on her cheeks, I pulled back just to look her in the eye and with a mischievous smile said, “If you promise this won’t be the last time I’m seeing you.”
‘Now I wish, more than ever, that I knew how to capture moments like these and revisit them forever.” She whispered as I held my arms around her waist, pulled her closer, leaned forward, my brow sweat-coated, my breathing uneven. I gently pressed a kiss on her forehead.
She clung to my broad shoulders caressing my dark hair, with her cheeks were flushing with redness. She ducked her head into his chest A knot of emotion forming in her chest and fighting its way up her throat. She didn't give me a chance to realise what she was doing. Wrapping my arms around her waist and hugging her tightly, I heard her murmur against my chest “ I will miss you Haven.”
“Get used to my name, you might say it often later.” I teased as she slipped off my, caressing my arm all the way down to the palm, caressed me for a second before reluctantly getting into the cab whose door I had already opened. Like a prince in a fairly tale, I closed the door and watched the cab slowly drive off.
As I stood watching the cab’s rear lights fade, the moon and stars seemed to dim in comparison to the glow I felt inside. Had I discovered true beauty that night? Perhaps. But it wasn't something I had dissected and analyzed. It was something I had witnessed, felt, and shared. It was the intangible yet undeniable connection, a sense that perhaps, this encounter with Purity was the beginning of something extraordinary, a spark that promised more than just friendship.
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