I’ve never liked bars. They’re gross, dingy, and full of drunk people drowning their problems away in alcohol, when they should really be working through them. I walked into a bar called “White Horse” *. I’ve heard a bit about it… Actually, that’s a lie. I saw it as I was walking. I also saw nine other bars, but I decided to come to this one because it’s for…special people…if you catch my drift. I already didn’t like it. It smelled of alcohol and despair. I’ve never been a drinker. Once I walked in, all I saw was a normal bar. It basically looked like any bar you would imagine. Wooden floors, bar table with stools placed in front, tables, flirting, fighting, singing, crying. I sighed. At least this one looks slightly civilized. I sit down on this, uncomfortable, red barstool, and nodded to the bartender. He smiled back and walked closer to me.
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- - Can I get ya anything? He asked smiling and waiting for my reply.
- - Um, no thanks. I said.
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He nodded and went back to washing his cup, occasionally speaking with other customers.
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- - I’ll take an Arnold Palmer, please. Said a voice that came from my right side.
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I turned around to see quite possibly, the most charming man I’ve ever seen. He had soft, pale skin with freckles peppered all over. His hair was blond and tousled, yet perfect all at once. His smile revealed his straight, white teeth. He had deep, beautiful, pastel blue eyes that sparkled with passion. He wore a light blue button-up, cuffed shirt that complemented both his skin and his eyes. He was quite short, I mean, shorter than me, and his voice was soft. Like a melody slowly caressing my ears. I felt myself blush as I observed this man for far too long. The bar tender nodded at his request and went to get a glass. The man looked ahead. I stared. Time seemed slow as I examined his somehow perfect features. He eventually noticed my staring and raised an eyebrow with amusement.
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- - Hi there. He said.
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It was like the entire world melted away. This guy was talking to me. It felt…wow. I tried to get a hold of myself as I flipped through the possible replies to his comment.
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- - Um…h-hi. I said.
- - Do I have something on my face? He teased.
- - Uh…I’m- uh…I don’t- I… I stuttered.
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He laughed a bit. Oh. My. Lord. That freaking laugh. I could hear it for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. It’s so beautiful. It goes so well with his perfect face and smile. That adorable man is definitely going to be the death of me.
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- - It’s fine…Don’t worry about it.
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He put his hand out.
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- - Arthur Johnson, but I hate the name Arthur…so call me Art. He said, putting his hand out.
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I laughed a bit at his comment about his name. I shook his hand. The skin was incredibly soft, and I could probably melt. My hand was probably very sweaty, so I pulled it away, quickly.
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- - James Baxter. I smiled.
- - Charmed. He smiled, his sparkling white teeth showing, followed by a wink.
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I smiled at the ground. As I looked back up at him, I noticed him slightly bite his bottom lip, which was an adorable shade of pastel pink.
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- - So…you going off to war? He asked.
- - Yeah…you?
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He inhaled and raised his eyebrows.
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- - Yup. He said taking a sip of his drink.
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I observed him a bit more. He’s extremely cute. It’s not like I’ve said that before. In case you couldn’t tell, that was sarcastic. It seems he has taken over my mind, not leaving any sort of non-Arthur Johnson-related thoughts.
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- - Can I ask you something, James? Asked Art.
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I nodded.
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- - So, are you a regular, or are you just “trying something new” before going off to war? He asked, microscopically rolling his eyes.
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I quickly realized that he was alluding to my sexuality…he wanted to know if I had explored it, or if I was just testing.
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- - Well, I’ve always had “suspicions”, but I’ve never been in a relationship…I’m also not a regular, because this is my first time in a bar. I stated.
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He smiled, his blue eyes trailing me up and down. I felt a layer of red wash over my face.
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- - Interesting. I’m a regular.
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I suddenly became very nervous, but I really wanted to shoot my shot, so I did.
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- - So, are all the regulars as pretty as you, or…
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His eyes widened for a second, before he looked down, letting out a breathless laugh. I noticed a slight hint of red in his cheeks.
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- - No, that’s just me. He winked.
- Intriguing.
- - Is it? He asked.
- - Yes.
- - How?
- - It’s intriguing how I’ve met the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and we’re both walking into a meat grinder in seven days. I said.
- - Oh, come on…you can’t be that certain you’ll die…and thanks for the compliment…you’re not too bad-looking yourself.
- - First of all; yes I’m certain I’ll die. Second; thanks.
- - You wanna know something? I don’t even care if I die. I just want to beat those Nazis into next week and save the innocent people…I’ve always been big on politics. He said.
- - Ah…opposite of me. My parents have always taught me to lay low and keep my mouth shut when it came to politics. I stated.
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He just stayed quiet. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed in confusion as he looked at me.
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- - And you listened to them…? He finally said.
- - Of course.
- - …Just like that…?
- - Yes.
- - No fighting back…?
- - Why would I-
- - Don’t you wanna stand by the things you believe in? If your parents said that, one day, you had to hate on all puppies in public, would you? He asked.
- - No-
- - James, you need to know this; A good boy doesn’t always have to be a pretty face who shuts his mouth off to the side.
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It was my turn to stay quiet. He was right. All these years, I remember what awful things my family would say…The amount of times I would sit and do nothing as I desperately wanted to say something. The amount of minorities my family would call “an illness” made my blood boil. I asked myself why I listened to my parents and stayed off to the side. This conversation changed my point of view, slightly, on this war. The millions of people, children even, are dying as I speak. I suddenly feel more motivated to go off to war. I didn’t think that was possible. This beautiful, perfect man has changed my point of view on everything I stand for. Wow. Holy crap. How did he do that? Maybe he has some sort of magical charming powers where he can change your life… Or maybe I just realized just how trapped I was, in my life.
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- - Ah, shit. He said.
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I looked up at him.
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- - I’ve done it again…I said something stupid to a cute guy, and now he’s re-thinking his life, and he’ll never even remember me after this cause he’s too busy having a revelation, and I messed up one of my only chances to finally get a committed relationship instead of those stupid-
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I cut off his fast rambling by quickly placing my lips on top of his. He seemed quite startled, at first, but melted into it. His lips were soft and tasted sweet. Have you ever heard someone say; the kiss gave me butterflies in my stomach? Well it’s not true. It gives you this crazy sensation all throughout your body. It’s like your brain is gone, and there’s fireworks instead. You feel so blessed by the other’s presence that your body turns to mush, and you have to physically keep yourself from fainting. You also pinch yourself to make sure this isn’t a dream. And even if it was, you would never want to wake up. You’d rather be in this asleep sequence forever then have to unlock your lips and get back to the real world. When people say that, when you have a near-death accident, your life flashes before your eyes. The same thing happens during your first kiss. Except instead of flashing the past, it flashes the future. Your entire vision of your future changes so you can fit him in. It’s so impossible not to think of him, in that moment, that you literally change your whole future. It’s crazy. This morning, it felt like I was losing time off my life. Now, it feels like I’m gaining time just by being face-to-face with him. Like if I finally had a reason to keep alive. I barely know him enough to call it love, but this is definitely something. We pulled away for air. I kept my eyes closed. He went back in and kissed me, holding my face in his hands. Scratch that. This is definitely love. The way he cradled my face like it was the most precious thing in the world. How could you know someone for a total of 25 minutes, and already be head over heels in love with them. My heart felt like it was going to rip out of my chest. Nothing else mattered. Not the stupid war, not my stupid family, not my stupid life. Just me, Art, and this gross, dingy bar. It’s a real shame I’ll never feel this ever again, due to the fact I’m going off to war in a week. Yet, I couldn’t fully think about that. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not even this mattered. I was just in this strange, euphoric state, that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. When we finally pulled away, I watched his reaction. His eyes fluttered open, smile present. He microscopically bit his bottom lip, then went back to smiling at me. It was so full of passion, despite being strangers to each other, that we both failed to speak for a few seconds.
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- - Wow. He said, out of breath.
- - Holy shit. That was my first kiss. I said, eyes wide.
- Really?
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I felt too awkward to reply. Once I realized he was actually waiting for my reply, I cleared my throat, trying to stall my answer, slightly ashamed.
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- - Um…yeah.
- - Huh. Coulda fooled me. Art winked.
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He took a pen out from his pocket and scribbled something down on a napkin. He slid it over to me with a wink. I was in awe, so much, I didn’t even glance at the paper. Art paid the bartender with a smile and walked out of the bar, leaving me with nothing but a red face. After I finally convinced myself I wasn’t dreaming and came back to earth, I picked up his napkin. It had a phone number next to a drawing of a heart on it. I smiled to myself as I got up from the uncomfortable barstool. Okay. I changed my mind. I love bars.
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