She was sitting at the coffee shop, in the corner, the perfect position to watch the entrance and bask in the sun a little as well.

You could see the confidence in her posture, and the way she presented herself. She was the type of woman who took care of herself and made a point of concentrating on the details. Her hair was impeccable and well taken care of, blow dried just before she left the house, flowing just a bit longer than her shoulders, dark chocolate brown colour.

Her make-up was perfect, they say that a woman should always appear as if she was wearing none, and she was one of the few that managed to pull it off. Her lips were full, dark lipstick accentuated the curves and highlighted the light, greyish colour of her contact lenses.

Her eyes darted around the room. She appeared aloof, but only someone who knew her well would realise that she was taking note of who was around and who was looking back.

The freckles, dotted so slightly on her skin, traced a line from below her neck, down to her cleavage, visible with the low top she was wearing. They gave her a certain sense of innonence.

She was starting to get irritated, she had been waiting for a while now and he was late. Punctuality was important to her, and he had not made a good impression so far, and he was not even there. She was patient though, not often does someone catch her attention the way he had, and she was intrigued.

When he finally walked in, their eyes met immediately. They were both so nervous, that to this day they would probably not remember the first few minutes as they "met" for the first time.

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