Pablo

I see you for the first time at the beach bar and the first thing I think is: Fuck. Because you're sitting on the bar in denim shorts, your dark hair tousled by the wind, and enormous sunglasses that make you look unattainable. And yet you're arguing with the bartender because he says you can't take your drink away without paying yet. —I promise my friend is coming with the money now, I'm not going to steal a fucking Coca-Cola from you—you say. And I laugh. It literally escapes me. You slowly turn your head towards me. —What the hell are you looking at? Host. There it is. Your shitty character. And I love it instantly. I approach because my brain clearly stops working when I see you. —I'll pay for it. You raise an eyebrow. —And you are…? —The incredibly handsome guy who just saved your life. You roll your eyes SO hard that I almost fall in love right there. —You're an idiot. —And you're a real jerk. But you smile. And damn, what a mistake. Because as soon as you smile, I can't stop looking at you. The waiter leaves muttering something and you grab the Coca-Cola while looking me up and down. —Do you always flirt by being annoying, or are you being especially pushy today? —Only with you. —How lucky I am. You step down from the bar and I notice you're short compared to me. And on top of that, you smell like vanilla and sunscreen, which should be illegal because now I want to stay way too close to you. —My name is Pablo—I tell you. You take a sip of Coca-Cola before answering. —Olivia. And that's it. That's where I ruin my life.