He swung open the door, took a step inside and greeted the empty bar with a smile. Hollis, the local college and his alma mater, was between semesters now; and since the crowd usually consisted of college students, he knew he'd find his local hang out quiet and secluded.

He walked up to the bar, took a seat, and ordered the drink his nerves had requested. The bartender sat a high ball of Jack in front of him and he took a much needed pull. The tension in his shoulders melted away as the warmth of the whiskey spread throughout his body. He set down the glass, his fingers remained, and he let out a sigh of relief. Even if for the moment, he did feel somewhat relaxed. The jittering nerves seemed to stop for a moment to absorb the alcohol.

He looked down at his choice novel. He had meant to grab an easy read, but felt he needed to prove his intelligence and that he could handle his upcoming new job, also the root of his nerves, with confidence. The result had him staring at the pages of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. He shut the book, knowing he wasn't ready for that read just yet. Maybe after another drink, then he'd be ready.

He swallowed the rest of the whiskey and ordered a second. He took it with him as he got up from is seat and headed to the juke box, thinking a few good songs would quiet the racing thoughts in his head. He picked out a few of his favorites; he knew their numbers from repeated use, and headed back to his seat at the bar.

Once back seated, and with Jack number three now in front of him, he opened his choice novel to the marked page and attempted to focus on the first sentence. His concentration was interrupted when the door flew open and let in a blinding ray of sun. He looked toward the brightness and could only make out a silhouette of the girl walking through it. His eyes had become adjusted to the dark bar so that he wasn't able to make out any of her features until she had taken her seat at the bar just one away from him.

She ordered a beer and a burger, then just stared out aimlessly, appearing lost in her thoughts. He tried to focus on his book, but found himself in awe of this girl. She was classic beauty with a twist to her own. Far from the main stream look, she didn't follow the normal tends of fashion, yet somehow was able to maintain a girl next door face. He also sensed a bit of solitary in this girl, a very intriguing trait in his opinion.

She was amazing. Her every feature perfect in his opinion. He wasn't sure how to react, her individualism had him in such awe that he fumbled with: to speak or not to speak? Look or look away?

He could attribute it to the alcohol or the self pep talks from earlier that day, but whatever the reason, with unexplained courage, he asked, "You alright down there?"

He smiled at himself; it felt good to take this lead.

She looked over towards him and quickly responded, "I'm a bit jetlagged, I just got back from Europe."

"Where in Europe?" He asked, as he wondered if they'd traveled or studied abroad at some of the same places.

"Iceland." She replied while her fingers nervously drummed the bar top.

"I spent some time in Reykjavik, before I went to Amsterdam." He paused, and then shut his book, "It's a great city." He wanted to show her their connection in hopes of calming her nerves. It worked, he realized, as she readjusted herself and turned to face him directly. Both seem to have almost forgotten what their worries were just the few minutes past.

"So, do you go to Hollis?" She asked, her courage growing apparent. And he thought her interest in him was too.

"Just graduated, I'm going to start my first teaching job." His confidence was instantly boosted with this reply.

"Yeah, I think I'd like to teach," she said, as she opened up even more to him. The smile she wore told him she too noticed how much they shared in common.

A new song started, one he had selected. She stopped to listen to the song. He stared for a moment, amazed by her beauty.

"Gosh, I love this song," she finally spoke.

"B26," He said in almost a whisper, and watched in awe as she took in another commonality. They shared a knowing look, one that confirmed that neither had ever felt a connection like this to anyone before.

Not wanting to end this conversation, and afraid to jinx the perfection of it all, he asked, "what's your major?" His stomach fluttered with nerves, not like the nerves from before, but from excitement, interest and intrigue. He wanted more of her.

"Uh, well…I'm leaning towards English." She stammered a bit.

"That's what I 'm teaching". He said, not surprised, and already convinced this was the girl that was meant for him.

She chuckled, "and I write too. But so far it's only personal, just for me." She said.

"I'm impressed." He said, and he was.

"Why?" She asked.

"Well, I tried writing," he said as he moved down a seat, closing in the space between them. "I didn't get very far. You're lucky, if you're writing for yourself, it's pure passion." He paused for a moment, and took in her response to him moving closer, "Maybe you'd let me read some of yours?"

He eyes were intense; he took her in completely, and impressed himself with his newfound bravery.

"Yeah, you really want to?" she answered shyly, but he saw the interest in her eyes.

"Yeah, you're smart. You've traveled. Great taste in music." He paused for a second, breathed in some courage, and decided to go for it. "I'd like to know more about you," it came out almost like a question. He felt his heart beat speed up; his forwardness no longer surprised him, his nervousness as he anticipated her response did.

"Yeah, I'd like to know more about you too." She replied.

Each held on to this last stare with intense fire building between them. It was him that broke the silence, but not the stare, when he extended his hand, palm up. "Ezra," he introduced himself.

She didn't look away, just placed her hand on his and softly said, "Aria."

He gripped her hand, and didn't let go. His thoughts confirmed he'd never felt this connected to someone. Each direction forward in their conversation, in their movements, proved to him their rightness for each other.

Jolted out of this bubble they had created around themselves, they both are pulled away when the bartender sat her burger down in front of her. She retreated her hand and faced forward again in her chair.

He cursed the bartender in his head for interrupting this magical moment they were sharing. He could tell by the way she looked at her plate that she wasn't thrilled about its arrival either.

She glanced back at him, and then excused herself to the restroom.

He silently shook his head and she smiled coyly. She didn't look away as she got down from the bar stool, and held his look intently as she headed around the bar. She gave him one last longing look as she disappeared around the corner.

He was convinced she had invited him to follow her. Was it the alcohol? He wasn't drunk, only three Jacks. He tossed around the idea for a second, then got up from his own seat and took the same corner she just had.

He stood at the door to restroom, and before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked.

The door opened quickly and she faced him with an expected look on her face that confirmed his suspicions. She did want him to follow her. With one fluid motion, he had his hands around her tiny waist, the door slammed shut behind them with his foot and her hoisted in midair. They were lost in a passionate kiss before he even had her sat on the counter.

His hands covered every inch of her as they made their way from the insides of her knees, to the small of her back, to her face and back down again. His fingers grazed over skin, hair and clothing, each touch sent electric pulses up his arms. He felt her soft caress on his face, neck and shoulders. Her lips adhered to his as their tongues took in each others taste.

Barely stopping for air to gaze again at each other, or laugh at how easy this came to them both, they were lost back in that bubble of just the two of them.

He couldn't help but think of the connection he felt for this girl. How everything seemed to fit just right. The fire between them was like nothing he'd experienced. He found himself so lost in these thoughts; his earlier troubles distant. It was her and his draw to her that occupied his mind now. How he had never been a believer in these types of connections, but she had proved him wrong. How perfect this felt, right here, right now.

When they finally broke for air, it was her that first spoke. "I better get your phone number."

He chuckled, as much as he felt like he really knew this girl, he realized there was a lot left to learn. Then he leaned in and met her lips with his again.