From this point on, the point of view will return as Sol writing to Eleven.
Six o'clock.
A blue tux. Tons of hair gel. A red bow tie. White long sleeves. A wristwatch. Enough pocket money. I had to make sure that I had everything ready for a date with you.
I was ecstatic, nervous and excited. I haven't felt such conflicting emotions before. I was worried I might do something stupid, or I might do something juvenile, but at the same time, I was excited to see your dimples on the corner of your cheek, skin as smooth as milk, eyes shining like the stars.
At six-thirty in the evening, I arrived. All the things I felt earlier was now getting more intense. Small, minor things felt exaggerated while everything else was pale. A gush of wind would feel so intense, meanwhile the ambient sound of people talking seemed to fade out.
Briggs and Martin's was a two-story building, the first floor was like any other restaurant. It contained those round tables, each with their own small candle, offering bread on the side. Each table would have a two-person capacity.
I booked a table on the second floor, which was styled with the skylight in mind. It was basically the rooftop. It contained yellow light bulbs with the tables surrounding a small stage, with a guitar and a microphone.
Just like the first floor, each table also had a candle and bread on the side. Air was fresh and free-flowing. The candle fire would sway from side-to-side. I could feel the cold February air, the scent of the dishes cooking.
Seven o-five.
You arrived. If what I felt earlier was exaggerated, then what I felt on this very moment was even more exaggerated.
The air would make me chill.
The candle fire would make me quiver.
The ambient noise went silent.
Time started going slower.
Each of your movement was catching my eye. The twitch of your legs as they walk towards me, the movement of your hands as they swing in an alternating motion. The light blush that fills your cheek, your white teeth showing as you slowly smile in my direction.
Everything was feeling even more real. This is it. No turning back. You waved a casual hi at me. I smiled back— timidly. I offered you a chair. You sat down.
The point of view has shifted to third person from this point on.
Sol raised his hand, signalling for a waiter. Moments after, a waiter came to the table, bringing a menu on his left hand and wine on his right hand. The waiter was about to pour wine on Sol's glass.
"No thanks, I don't drink."
The waiter nodded and slowly faced Eleven. Eleven shook her head, signaling a "no".
"So what do you want to eat?" Sol asked Eleven.
Eleven slowly flips through the glossy pages. Each dish looked so expensive, each beverage so premium.
"Are you sure you want to eat here?" Eleven asked Sol. "This place kinda charges at a premium."
"Don't worry, my treat." Sol replied.
"You know, I shouldn't take advantage of you right? Anyways, I don't even know any of these 'food'. They all look so foreign to me. " Eleven answered with a look of confusion and concern.
"Can I order for you then? And about the bill, don't worry about it— really." Sol assures Eleven.
"Sure." Eleven chuckled. "That'd be nice."
Sol slowly flicked the pages, then asks Eleven, "Do you have any allergies, or do you avoid any food?"
Eleven then looks up slightly then answers, "Not that I know of, and I just don't eat anything too greasy."
Looking at the waiter, Sol closes the menu. "Then, we'd like the classic Garlic Butter Steak please, and also some Garlic bread. For drinks, we'd take some Ice Tea, for dessert, I'd take a cheesecake for her, and some extra shortcake for me."
"Thank you ma'am, sir. Have a pleasant experience." The waiter went out, leaving Eleven and Sol alone.
"Who'd knew you don't drink." Eleven says jokingly. "You look like someone who'd enjoy a whole night out drinking and partying."
"Hmm, I particularly don't like partying. I'd rather stay alone. As for drinks, I have tried them, but the pungent smell and the bitter hints of alcohol just turns me off." Sol answered. "You know, I brought you here to look at the night sky."
Eleven stairs at the night sky. She saw the stars and the full moon. Everything seems perfect. Eleven feels the romantic atmosphere.
"You know, this is really romantic." Eleven tells Sol. "The candles make it way better, and the sky just gives me a piece of tranquility."
"It'd better be romantic." Sol laughs. "I was actually so nervous meeting you tonight."
The waiter suddenly arrives with the food. Moments pass. The two enjoy each other's company. Every moment is cherished, everything is peaceful, hot and cold at the same time. Whenever they meet each other in the eyes, they'd blush for a moment— then laugh all the way. Everything seems perfect.
The table slowly fills up on dirty dishes and food slowly gets eaten. Eleven tidies up her side of the table, while Sol slowly stands up.
"Can I go to the bathroom for one moment?" Sol asks Eleven.
Eleven nods. Minutes pass.
Lights suddenly goes out. Candles fill the the ambiance with light. Everyone shrieks— then after a while goes silent. A sharp noise coming from the microphone's feedback suddenly breaks the silence. A man clears his throat. Light points to the man on the stage.
"This is for my date tonight, for the sweetest, most charming, elegant and beautiful lady, Eleven."
Sol's voice fill the rooftop. A guitar's tune suddenly plays.
Now Playing, "Can't Help Falling In Love (1961)" by Elvis Presley
Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can't help falling in love with you
Shall I stay?
Would it be a sin
If I can't help falling in love with you?
A spotlight flashes at Eleven.
Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Eleven touches her heart. She feels it beating fast. And faster. Now even faster.
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you
Eleven feels like the stars shine on her, the trees swaying with the guitar's tune.
Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to beTake my hand
Take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you
For I can't help falling in love with you
Sol puts the guitar down brings out a rose, then slowly approaches Eleven. Spotlights follow as with everyone's attention. Slowly, Sol takes Eleven's hands and asks, "Eleven, can you be my partner for the Valentine's Day dance?" End of Chapter.
"The rosy flower depicts love. It isn't flawless, it has its thorns; that may prickle the hands, yet somehow it stands as a testament that love isn't something seen (just like the beauty of a rose) but is that's something felt (just like the sharp pain from a rose's thorns).
A person's eyes does not define one's value. The heart does." -Sol, Roses.
Yours Truly, Sol.