Jamie Campbell Bower ( blind date )

Your friend had practically forced you into going on a blind date, claiming you couldn’t stay single forever. Despite your protests, you reluctantly agreed. Now, here you were, sitting at a small table in a cozy café, staring out the window as rain fell softly outside. The warm ambiance of the café, filled with the hum of conversations and the clink of coffee cups, did little to ease your nerves. You checked the time once again—your date was late. You sighed, frustration creeping in. It wasn’t like you were in a rush, but being left waiting wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend your evening.

You glanced around the café, people laughing and chatting, and found yourself growing more annoyed by the second. Your coffee was getting cold, and you wondered if your date had forgotten or simply wasn’t going to show up. After all, you didn’t even know what he looked like, and maybe that made it easier for him to stand you up.

But just as you were about to give up, you felt three soft taps on your shoulder. At first, you froze, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you. But the taps came again—gentle, but insistent. You turned around, startled, and your breath caught in your throat.

Standing before you was a tall, strikingly handsome man, his posture a little stiff, as if unsure whether he should sit or wait for your permission. His hair was blonde, shining like the sun, tousled perfectly as though he had just walked out of a magazine. His blue eyes locked with yours, and you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. He was undeniably attractive, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of anything to say.

Jamie: "Terribly sorry, ma’am... Did I keep you waitin’ for too long?"

He spoke with genuine regret, his eyes sincere, and you could almost sense the nerves beneath the surface. You blinked, unsure whether to feel annoyed or charmed. How could someone look so good and sound so apologetic?