its funny how a flight of steps separated us from the reality that lures the heart of this metro every night.
how the cream of the entree that you ordered tickled my palette while images and questions started playing inside my head.
i could not stop myself from smiling as i looked at your restlessness and how you avoided your own reflection in my eyes.
you were different from what i have expected rather than what i have pictured. but this time around, it would not really matter anymore.
surprisingly, the crowd at the bar was larger than we have expected for a weeknight and the waiters were not accommodating either. so we decided to sit on the side walk, beside the road where the weary also pass by and drank ourselves with each other stories.
strangely, i just caught myself going with the night.
the place, filled with scent of burning lavender and seduced by candle light, was not really something i have in my mind. i was laughing. we were laughing (with the idea that someone forgot to reconnect his utility).
yes, it was romantic.
or perhaps, because it was simply my first.