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I wrote this for a lady at her request. If there are any other girls out there who would like me to write something for you then please let me know.
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You allow your eyes to casually sweep across the room again just to make sure you were not imagining things. You weren't. There were definitely the eyes of an attractive man gazing in your direction, smiling towards you. A heated flush rises to your cheeks. You take another little sip of your now ice diluted drink that you have been sipping for an hour. This is somewhat the situation you had been hoping for coming here tonight.
The thought of this situation just being embarrassing wanders into your head. What are you doing? You fumble with your purse and try to stand up without looking in this man's direction. You cannot help another glance my way. You see me standing, walking toward you. I lean forward in an effort to catch your gaze for a moment longer. "Leaving so soon?" I ask. Your eyes glance up towards my face again but seem not to stay there with an unconfident feeling coursing through you. "Not really my scene," is your only, tentative reply.
I reply quickly, "Not really my scene either, I'm more about the people than the place. Though, I must admit, you look like the sort of person I would rather be spending some quality time with." You can't help but pop out a shy little laugh followed by a smile. "That's kind of you to say," you reply quietly, "but I am probably very boring. I was actually thinking about going home to watch 'Friends' reruns and fall asleep on the couch."
It takes a moment for me to respond, though you can tell I am honest in my reply. "If you don't mind me saying I would prefer to be a judge for myself if you are boring or not. We can go to your place and watch whatever you would like." My intentions seem to be more obvious, though you cannot help but let that doubt fester in your mind.
"What made you approach me to begin with?" you ask. That question seems to blurt awkwardly from your mouth. You wonder if maybe you should not have said that. After all, you are still not sure what my intentions are from this conversation. My response is too quick for you to replace your words in time. "I can't help but think you look amazing. I'm not sure what it is about you, but I think you look so incredibly sexy. Maybe I should have begun talking with you sooner?"
The confidence of this situation grows within you. You bite your lip a little nervously. You wonder how honest I am being; it is certainly disarming. You chuckle hoping perhaps to gather your wits and say "I think I'm just surprised you feel the same as I do. That so rarely happens for me." You find yourself standing closer to me with a simple half step. I seem to do so at the same time as I half-whisper into your ear, "Perhaps we should do something about it then."
You gently touch my hand closest to you and pull gently towards me saying "I agree; season two of 'Friends' is my favourite." You seem to have gained the confidence to tease me. You begin to step away, hoping I will follow, giving that slight tug on my fingers to suggest as best you can. My fingers grip your subtly as I step towards you, following you slowly. You feel a butterfly flapping in your chest. Maybe all that hoping is working better than you realized.