I was falling in line to get my Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks. I'm not really a Starbucks fan, but ever since I saw my co-worker's Starbucks planner, I am determined to get my own planner, even though it would cost me much, and I would have to convince my friends to help me. I couldn't imagine the amount of Java I would have to consume, or overpriced frappes I would have to buy, but the feel of high quality paper and prospect of organization overcame my rational brain, and I knew that I would very much like a Starbucks planner which I would call my own.

It was one of those chilly November mornings in which you can't decide whether or not to wear a jacket or sweater since it usually becomes warm and humid in the afternoon. Here I am, patiently and faithfully in queue for an overpriced product of capitalism that inadequately meets my demand for caffeine. I am, what I would term, a rehabilitated coffee junkie. I've overcome my dependence on it, yet here I am falling in line for something infused with caffeine. I am a walking paradox, but hey, who isn't?

Finally, it was my turn to give my order. I had this habit of folding cash which drives my mom insane since she told me that some establishments don't accept crumpled or folded cash. I believe her, but it's not like I create perforated lines on a fifty-dollar bill. I tried to unfold the bill gracefully, but sadly, most of my efforts in being feminine and graceful are in vain. I am an awkward wallflower, contrary to a social butterfly, but ironically I am comfortable in my own shell, and I never really felt the need to break out and be outgoing to everybody I know and anybody I meet.

iPad in hand, I was looking for a vacant, secluded spot in this busy cafe. As a valued customer, I have known that Starbucks is almost always occupied, meaning it's very difficult to find a comfortable spot unless you stick to a table in which you know its occupants would leave soon. I definitely do not want to seem like a creeper. Every time I go to Starbucks, it amazes me how this place is filled virtually most of the time. How can people love coffee-flavored water?

I thank the stars and universe because I am very lucky today. I found a seat, and it's in a corner which provides enough privacy, yet is a vantage point for people watching. I tend to be a misanthrope, and I know it's unfair for me to generalize people to be inept or oblivious to what really matters in life. As I interact with people, they seem to be in a constant state of ignorant bliss; they just live with what they have, they live according to how society defines living, and it irks me on how they don't bother to venture into the confines of brilliance and near-madness. What I'm saying is, people should philosophize once in a while. Socrates once said, "An examined life is not worth living," so I think people should take time to think... I mean really think or even meditate about their existence and such. Enough meditation is enlightening, too much can cause disillusionment; hence Socrates also said, "I no nothing," so I also believe people shouldn't spend too much time reflecting on life since they neglect living it.

"A pumpkin spice latte for Chewie!" I walked to the barista and thanked him, trying to give him a flirtatious smile and a discreet bat of my lashes. I may be socially inept, but when it comes to guys who are on my cute radar, I am always in my amiable behavior. At this point, it may seem that I have no friends or everyone would feel this mutual aversion towards me. I am proud to say that I do not know anyone who antagonizes me, although I cannot certainly say that everyone loves me. I am a misanthrope, but it doesn't give me the right to treat others with no respect. In relating or interacting with others, I live by kindness and respect, regardless of the circumstances and the type of personalities I'm dealing with on a day-to-day basis.

I carefully remove the lid from my Venti and inhale the aroma. Yes, I am one of those people who savor aromas and flavors. I absolutely, positively love food with all my heart and soul, and I don't just eat for the physiological satisfaction of my stomach. It's a fulfilling and soulful experience for me when I eat deliciously prepared food. It's an amazing journey in which I allow my mind to partake in. I am about to take my first sip, but I feel a disconcerting feeling on my nape as if someone is watching me... or worse, glaring at me.

My instincts kick in, and I do a quick scope of the area. Turns out, my tingling sensation was right: someone was watching me, and it's someone I do not want to speak to or hear his voice. Unluckily for me, curse the stars, he's walking towards me, with serious intentions sketched on his face.

Shit, why can't the ground swallow me up now?

He was also holding a Venti, and on his other hand is his iPad. I just hope to god we didn't order the same thing, otherwise I would just feel creeped out on so many levels.

"Hey Ariadne. I hope you don't mind me sitting here. As you can see, there aren't any vacant seats, and I haven't spoken to you in a while... how are you?"

I am a very straightforward person. I have very rare opportunities that require my bluntness because I know that once my mouth starts speaking, I do not stop. I am painfully honest, and I know my words give justice to the saying: "Reality bites, and the truth hurts."

"I'm doing okay, thanks for asking. How are you? You know, I'm not the type of person to unearth the past and what not. I mean, I have forgiven you for the crap you've done, and yet your presence has managed to refresh the wound and pour antiseptic on it. Yes, it hurts that much, so don't act like we're good friends and like nothing happened, because as far as I can remember, you think I'm this vindictive bitch who's out to destroy your ego. Well I'm sorry pal, because your ego is not even close to being worthy of destruction or disreputableness."

With that, I focused on typing away on my iPad, writing my no-brainer romances that my mind just writes without inhibition. It made me wonder why he hadn't left the chair that was positioned right across me. I glanced at my watch, and it had already been five minutes since my plethora of words. I then look at him and found his stare to be disconcerting to say the least. "Two can play at that game," I told myself, so I also held eye contact. I am not the type to back down, and now I am intrigued by what he is about to say and what his intense gaze signifies.

Then he spoke. "I've told you before, you pushed me, Ariadne, into saying hurtful things that may or may not have been below the belt. Honestly, I thought what I said was funny, but I didn't expect that the next thing you'd do was call me an asshole, which would be offensive to any guy..."

I gestured my hand as a signal that he should stop. "Hold on buddy, in the process of our growing friendship, I have mentioned time and again that my sense of humor involves sarcasm and insulting jokes. And I know you know you really do have tendencies in being an asshole, so I'm surprised at how you're saying that this whole disagreement between us stemmed from the fact that I called you an asshole. I have joked around with you for countless times, but I have never gone below the belt by jokingly accusing you as a pedophile or some creepy low life who has nothing better to do with his life. Unless of course what I've said are true, then I wouldn't apologize for how you perceived it. I am sorry for what I've done, but I will never be sorry for who I am."

He took a big gulp from his coffee and continued to gaze at her. "You know, I've always loved their Pumpkin Spice Latte."

Well shit.

"After 2 years, seeing you now and hearing your voice make me realize how much I really miss you."

What the-

"I know what you're thinking, Ari, but hear me out. For two months, we were beginning to have a beautiful friendship. It didn't matter if you were a former student of mine or I was your teacher. The way I saw it, we were two people getting to know each other, talking about anything and everything. We didn't bother to impress each other or even try to deepen our friendship. It was beautiful. I felt like a big brother and you were a sister that I would willingly protect no matter what. I loved to hear your thoughts, no matter how unorthodox or insane they may be. You know very well that your mother was my teacher, and when she told me to keep an eye on you, I felt this affinity to just be your friend. In the same way, I know you wanted to be friends with me. Except in all honesty Ari, I was sick and tired of your sense of humor, and I know that I couldn't change that part of you, so I decided that we should drift apart."

I was too focused on my coffee cup and this time, I couldn't dare look at him straight in the eye. "Arthur, I know I've ignored you ever since that happened, but now you must now that I was hurt..." I suddenly felt brave, and I thought that eye contact would definitely get to him right now. "In fact, I am hurt. I am hurt because you would throw away our friendship just because your ego couldn't handle my sense of humor. I am hurt because you even unfriended my groupmates who did nothing but look up to you and admire you. During the time, I felt responsible for their sadness, so I took it upon myself to explain the circumstances of your sudden hostility towards them. Answer this, Arthur, was it really right of you to involve them in this conflict when they had absolutely nothing to do with it? Were you in some way trying to seek sympathy? Allies? Lastly, I am hurt because I was falling in love with you even though I knew at the back of my mind that you wouldn't catch me."

I did not just admit to him that I was falling in love with him. Shit, I did. It's the sad truth that I didn't even admit to myself: I was falling in love with him. I loved how he's the last person I talk to almost every night. I loved how we would talk about geeky shit and then we'd start debating about the existence of God. I loved how his cologne would still linger even though he'd left the room. I grew to love so many things about him, but it's a shame that he loved himself too much to even realize that someone can give him more than enough love.

I was furiously typing on her keyboard and didn't dare to look at him. She scoffed then laughed bitterly. "It must be a big ego boost for you, right? I mean after-"

"Ari, please shut up."

I did shut up.

"Would you believe me if I say," I heard him take a deep breath, "that I was falling in love with you, too?"

Now I looked at him intently, making sure anger was visible in my irises. "Well then dumbass, why did you push me away like I was just yesterday's leftovers?"

"I know you're smart Ari, so think about it is: I pushed you away because it was the smart thing to do. You were so young, Ari. You needed to grow up, although now I realize we both needed to grow up. I honestly admit I'm self-centered and narcissistic, and your witty and humorous comebacks and remarks always make some sort of fatal blow on my ego. Ironically, your sense of humor is what draws me to you. You're beautiful, smart, creative and unlike any other person I've met because you're not just anyone I could figure out. You're different. The truth is, I couldn't ever really and truly hate you even after these 2 years of ignoring each other. No matter what, I always find myself drawn to you, and this time, I don't see why I should stop myself from getting what I truly want."

Are his pupils dilated or this place became significantly dimmer?

I did a quick a check of the lighting and found that the lights still had the same intensity. Shit, what should I say? I could sort of read between the lines that he wants me to become more than a friend, and what scares me is that I also want the same thing he wants.

"Earth to Ariadne!" I was literally snapped out of my reverie, and I find him laughing. The nerve of that jerk. "First you nervously look up as if aliens are about to abduct, and then second, you space out and your face contorts into different emotions, and it's just so funny to watch. Lastly, I confess that I want and need you, and you leave me hanging in silence. Are you okay?"

This was all too much for me to handle, so I had to leave. I needed to revolve my mind around his revelation for I was still overcome with shock. "I am sorry, Arthur. I have to go. My mom just texted me, and I need to do errands for her. I'll see you around, yeah?"

I can unmistakably see disappointment on his face. What did he expect? That after his confession we would run to the hills and live happily ever after? That I would completely forgive him for what he did? I know I'm shallow, and time has done wonders to mend our shattered friendship, but I'm only human, and I can't be a saint all the time. I don't completely put the blame on him on why we drifted apart, it's just that our fight didn't have to involve other people and become something big, even though in the first place I think it just involved me fundamentally wounding his ego. In spite of these, I fell in love with him.

Seeing him now, I guess I am in love with him.

I left Starbucks and hailed a cab. Thank god it took less than 15 seconds for one to stop in front of me, that way he couldn't catch up. I am going to place where I would find peace, and I know no one would be there to disturb me.

One of the reasons why I love my apartment is that I have unlimited access to the rooftop. Luckily for me, my neighbors don't really have any interest in using the space, so it became my hideout slash hangout when I am really stressed or when I just need time to think. Right now is one of those times when I need to really think about things, especially about my relationship with Arthur.

I was fumbling with my scarf, a beautiful purple of a subdued shade. I remember telling him about it when I bought it. He told me collecting things are characteristic of toddlers. Evidently the guy didn't live, so I told him that scarfs define me, are a part of me. Now that I look back, one of the reasons why we drifted apart was because he looked down on me in a way. He was my instructor, and I guess this placed an unsaid authority upon him to just make fun of me, or even sometimes bully me. One of the things that life has taught me so far is that you can't base friendship on inequality: the truth of the matter was that, I considered him as my equal, hence I was so comfortable expressing myself and my sense of humor. For him, I guess when you're talking to someone younger than you, you tend to have this big ego boost like you have the right to be condescending among other things.

As far as I can remember, I really did apologize if ever I did offend him. The problem with him was that, you tell him an apple is an apple and he'd perceive it as an apple is an orange. One of the reasons why I completely and utterly ignored him for 2 years was that he somewhat distorted my words into something that he would find pleasing. The way I see it, as his friend I was not there to worship him and nurse his stupid ego every time someone wounds it. Sure, as a good friend I was there to show him his positive attributes, at the same time, I never fall short of telling him about the ugly truth. He couldn't handle the ugly, and it irks me until now.

Seeing him now, seeing his face, sensing his happy and hopeful demeanor, has he really changed? When we decided to go our separate ways, he told me that I had made a difference in his life, that our brief yet meaningful friendship provided him insights that would make him into a better person. One problem with Arthur is that he befriends his students and former students; the latter, I don't see any problem with, but the former, to any third-person observer, would seem suspicious. In the world of academia, one of the rules I live by is not to befriend my teachers as long as I am student. Well now, since I graduated and am working at an architectural firm, I keep in touch with my former instructors. Whatever success I achieve, a part of it I dedicated to them.

My friendship with Arthur began with an innocent Facebook request. I was alarmed, and I wondered why he would have the gall to add me as a friend. If I hadn't a accepted it, I knew he would've found it offensive and I don't need a disgruntled teacher on my heels, considering that he was my teacher during that time, meaning I saw him everyday for one hour. As far as I know him, he has tendencies to be petty and immature, so I know it would be awkwardly tense between us if I didn't become his friend.

From there, the rest is history. Arthur seemed like a pretty nice guy: intelligent, easy to talk to and a great listener. He didn't find me odd or strange even though I would confide in him the strangest things, or to talk to him about the most random things. I began talking to him in such a way that I didn't need to impress him. He was just someone I know I could talk to about anything and everything, and I wouldn't care about his judgement and assumptions since I had never imagined that he would become a friend. In the process, we also started talking about more personal things. Among these, I was shocked to find out that he had a half-brother. I was happy because I felt that he trusted me on a deeper and personal level. I don't think he has revealed this to just anyone, and I felt special because we were at that point wherein we could trust each other with anything: even our deepest and darkest secrets.

Right now, I find myself pitying Arthur. The thing is, the life he lives right isn't his own. His family is a family of well-known architects, and even though he wanted to pursue Psychology, his career path wasn't up to his decision. He graduated from high school at 16, and he was determined to become his generation's Freud or Jung. Sadly, his freedom to choose the life he wanted was ripped off of him. It was all about material progress and the preservation of his family's greatness. He worked hard, or rather he slaved himself until he graduated summa cum laude of his batch. During his college years, he wasn't exactly the outgoing type: his life revolved around designs, numbers, physics and everything involving academics. He didn't get to enjoy his youth, and I guess that's why he befriends his students who are oozing with vibrancy and youth.

Arthur is a brilliant man, but that's all he ever is: brilliant. The way I see it, he has been a hollow shell whose existence is limited in the confines of knowledge and practice. Beyond these, he has never truly lived. He's pushing thirty, and he's still living alone, hangs out with students and is almost always cooped up in his bedroom watching Doctor Who. Funny thing is, one time he told me that his dog wouldn't approach him when he called her; yup, his dog also dislikes him. Sure, he spends time with his colleagues and good friends of his, but in the end, he's still stuck at a crossroads: either he continues the life he has, or pursues the life he wants. For the short time I've gotten to know him, I sensed his dilemma regarding life, so as a gift I gave him a copy of Hope for the Flowers. After he had read it, I asked his insights about it, and I was impressed with what he said. I just hope that it would help him live for something that's worth living-a life with meaning, a life with purpose.

This is how I know Arthur Levitt. In spite of his flaws, I discover that I am in love with him. I became a change agent in his life, and I would love to get to know him, and I have this gut feeling telling me that he has changed for the better. The great part is, he loves me too.

I check out my phone and find out that I've spent two hours on the rooftop, thinking, just thinking, about Arthur. I also saw that I've had ten missed calls from an unknown number. Curious, I dialed it and tapped my foot while waiting for my mystery caller to pick up.

"Ariadne," he said breathlessly, "I've been trying to reach you for the past couple of hours. You got me worried sick. Are you okay?"

I would know who he is solely from the sound of his voice. "Arthur, I'm fine, and you stress out too much. You should've figured out by now I just needed time to think. Well, I've had my time and it cleared my mind at least." I was about to ask him how he got my number, but I didn't bother since his reason might be that he was determined to get me back in whatever way possible.

I realized that it had been silent for too long, then he spoke. "A penny for your thoughts?"

"You've changed, Arthur. I don't know how to react to it. After two years you waltz back into my life like you're a completely changed man. I'm happy that you also want to fix things between us, but I don't know what to do with the fact that you have more than friendly sentiments towards me. I guess I'm trying to say that I'm scared that I'm willing to reciprocate your feelings." My honesty and boldness surprised me, and I guess he was at a loss for words, too.

After a few seconds he said, "Ari, turn around."

I did, and there he was, smiling like an idiot, like he had hit jackpot or won the lottery. Well, I have to admit we were both idiots, since I also found myself smiling like a Cheshire Cat. He belongs to me, and I belong to him. I love him, in all his godliness and imperfections, and I don't seek to change him because I know he's strong enough to begin change within himself. As I look at his loving brown eyes, I know for sure that we would help each other grown into better people, day by day, no matter how much we would argue and make up immediately after. I've always been realistic, and even though I know I wouldn't have a fairy tale ending with him, we would both be happy, and whatever hardships we will go through are just part of the roller coaster ride.

I'm in his arms, and I sense him deeply inhaling whatever scent I have. Funny thing is, I don't really wear perfume or cologne. As a standard, I use Dove body wash and I change my shampoo from time-to-time, so I don't know what really appeals to him. I guess I just simply smell nice? Well in his case, the scent that I grew to love hasn't changed a bit: if my memory proves me correct, his cologne is Calvin Klein Cool Water. Eventually I find myself sniffing him, too. At least he isn't an Axe guy and he didn't wear too much. Oh Arthur, he always knew how to be attractive to women.

Now he's rubbing small circles on my lower back. I find his touch comforting, and at this point I do not want to let him go. We could just stay like this, in each other arms, and sniff each other until the end of time. Usually, I like people to respect my boundaries and personal space, so I don't really hug people often unless they're close to me. Being in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world: no awkwardness, no sexual tension. It was just me and him, enjoying each other's presence.

Now we're looking at each other's eyes, and I am so close to kissing him. By the look in his eyes, he knew how much I wanted him. He kissed me without any hesitation while I was on my tippy toes. I felt him smile, so I boldly jumped a little bit and wrapped my legs around his waist. Our kiss was gentle at first, but now we were battling for dominance, eager to satisfy each other and express how much we love each other through our very first kiss. It became passionate, full of longing and something that would bring me to eternal bliss. I needed air, so I broke away. I had to smile because I saw disappointment briefly pass his features.

"I need air, Arthur. Let me breathe. Let me have my way this time."

"I've never really fallen in love with a feminist who has a strong conviction. Just so we're clear Ari, I'm the man so I'm wearing the pants in this relationship"

"Well, looks like we're both wearing pants, except I am more fashionable. So Artie, where do you wanna go? I mean, we can have our first date or something and it's only three in the afternoon..."

"Artie? Only my family calls me that."

"Well, I could always go for-"

"Nah, I like it when you say it. Except I don't really have any special name for you. What if we call each other babe? Or Hun?"

"Woah, woah, woah, easy there tiger. I agreed to be your girlfriend but I don't think there's a clause that mentions we'd call each other babe or something cliche and cheesy. It gives me goosebumps."

"Jesus Christ Ariadne, you make our relationship sound like a contract or something."

We were in my apartment, ready to watch a movie. Before watching the movie, I was busily preparing dinner: steak and mashed potatoes and for dessert, brownie a la mode. It was still in the middle of the afternoon, so I had a lot of time to prepare a deliciously awesome meal. Meanwhile, Arthur's choosing what films we would watch from my vast movie collection. I love films, and I don't limit myself to a specific genre. The films I fall in love with though are very realistic and nothing close to the grandeur and predictability of most mainstream movies. Nothing touches my mind more than a good film that relates to the human condition, or something with good cinematography; that's why my favorites have always been Stanley Kubrick and Woody Allen.

"Arthur, you're absolutely brilliant!" I was peeling potatoes when I felt his arms encircle my waist. He gently kissed the area behind my ear, and I was a goner. I quickly regained my composure though, otherwise I wouldn't be able to make a fantastic dinner.

I put down my knife and spun around to face him. "I think we should come up with a legally-binding contract indicating all the clauses involved in our relationship. It could last for two years or something. I don't know, you decide..."

"You're absolutely insane, Ariadne. I know you're crazy from the start, but this idea is absolutely outrageous and unheard of! I mean it would be interesting to try, but it just sounds silly."

"I know I'm inexperienced when it comes to relationships. I've only been on a couple of dates and none of them were serious. You're my very first one, Arthur. I don't want perfect but I want something that works. I don't really care about conventions regarding relationships nowadays. Just know that I love you, Artie, and we are going to make this work."

He pecked my lips. As I look in his eyes, I see solemnity and sincerity. Then he said, "I am honored Ariadne, that I am the first man your heart willingly and openly embraced. This is the first time I'd ever have to draft a contract when it comes to relationships. It's something refreshing, and at least we would know what to expect from each other."

I was boiling the potatoes. "I'm glad you see the pros of it, Arthur. Before we discuss it in detail, let's just enjoy tonight. Now go sashay back into the living room and surprise me with your movie choices."

"Hmmm, I like it when my woman's in control once in a while." His voice dropped a few octaves lower, and when I turned to look at him, he really was sashaying back to the living room. This reminded me of how he really has a nice tush. I had to remove my mind from the gutter or else the mashed potatoes might have too much milk.

An hour has gone by and I am now making sure the steaks are grilled to a perfect medium rare. The brownies are in the oven and the vanilla ice cream is chilling the fridge. Meanwhile, Arthur's busy using my iPad, and I wonder how he didn't bring his own. He almost always has his iPad with him, and it weird how he doesn't have it with him now. Hmmm... I hope he's not hacking my Facebook or something.

I leave my cooking station for a while to check on him. I use my ninja skills and was about to surprise him when...

"Ari, you need to work on your ninja skills."

"Awww come on, that was my best! And I am curious as to what you're up to."

I look at my iPad and find out that he changed my relationship status. I snatch the iPad from him and do a quick check of his Facebook account. It turns out he changed his relationship status as well. Good thing he didn't put my name yet...

I return the iPad to him and warm him, "You better not mess with my progress in Candy Crush or I will castrate you."

"You've always been a violent woman."

"Only when provoked my good sir."

It's 7 PM and I'm finally done with dinner and dessert. I proudly tell myself that I have officially outdone myself this time. I guess I could join the next season of Master Chef, except I don't know if I could deal with Gordon Ramsey's incessant swearing and unpredictable temper.

"Artie, dinner's ready!"

In less than two seconds he was in the kitchen. "Wow, I am impressed. It took you less than 2 seconds to get here, but if I asked you to wash the dishes I doubt you would even come!"

"You're too harsh. Of course I wouldn't mind helping you with the dishes."

"Well, that's exactly what you're going to do."

He already took a bite of his steak and mashed potatoes, and I saw him close his eyes as his face clearly showed ecstasy. "Ari, since you cook this good I must ask you to marry me now."

"Buy me a ring from Tiffany's, and I guarantee you I will say yes in a heartbeat."

"Does it really have to be from Tiffany's?"

"Love doesn't come cheap for me, bro."

We enjoyed dinner, talking about random things while Arthur kept having generous bites from his meal. It seems like he hasn't had a decent meal in a month, which made me internally laugh because this guy must have been living off instant and processed food. Perhaps I am underestimating him: maybe he can cook. I'll have to find out soon.

We were watching Breakfast at Tiffany's, and I was surprised at his choice. He told me he hadn't seen it yet, so I said that it's a classic romance. He didn't mind, and this added to my long list of what I love about him: he's a closet romantic, and he tries to hide it from almost everyone. As I'm watching the movie, I occasionally steal glances at him. He's really focused on the movie, and I smiled briefly. I know for sure he would love this movie as much as I do.

I snuggled beside him and pulled the blanket over us. The last thing I remember was seeing Paul and Holly stroll through New York, and then I slipped into a peaceful slumber, knowing that the man I love would keep me safe and warm.

The sun's rays triggered my eyelids to flutter open. I was able to freely move on the couch, so I wondered where Arthur went. Then I smelled the heavenly aroma of bacon and eggs. Before greeting him good morning, I quickly check my Facebook profile. I was surprised to see a photo of me and him, and it looks like he took it while I was asleep. I would scold him later for not taking a better picture, since I don't exactly look my best in it, but it was evident that his arm was around me and I was lying close to him. The caption read, "Watching Breakfast at Tiffany's with my own Holly Golightly." My heart was beginning to melt, but then my eyeballs were about to pop out of their sockets when there were 200 likes on the photo, considering that it was posted 8 hours ago.

It's official: Arthur and I are together, and this was just the beginning.