She is captivating.

There's nothing special-looking about her. She is a normal girl. In fact, she's in sweats and no makeup with her beautiful chestnut hair tied into a messy ponytail.

I wonder if she's even aware of how effortlessly beautiful she is. Probably not. Most women aren't.

I knew as soon as I saw this fucking angel in disguise, sat at my favorite table, by the way, that I had to talk to her. So I did. It wasn't really something I thought about. I went up and spoke to her, and her voice is just as captivating as her imperfect face.

I had to hold back a laugh at the relief on her face after telling her I wasn't a cop. The momentary worry in her eyes was precious.

"What do you have so far?" I ask, holding eye contact with her matching chestnut irises. I always found brown eyes captivating. She is captivating.

"Um," she scratched her head, looking at her journal. "You can read them." Oh, right. Her journal is in my hands already.

I read her words, not missing her textbook-neat handwriting.

Learn how to skateboard

Star-gaze

Skinnydip in the ocean

Go to a random concert

She'd stopped with four, clearly starting this plan tonight. Skinnydip in the ocean, huh? Interesting. She strikes me as pure, innocent even.

"They don't have to be in order. I'm just writing what- um, comes to mind, you know?" I could tell she was shy. She kept diverting her eyes as if mine were too intense to stare into. She never stuttered, but she kept rambling and throwing random "um's" and "ah's" into her sentences, a nervous habit, I assume.

I smile at her, trying my best to ease her nerves. "Mind if I throw some ideas on the page?"

"Well, how's your handwriting?" She asks, serious as ever. I can't help but laugh a bit. Cute.

"I have great handwriting, I assure you." I write down the number five and the first activity that pops into my mind to make my point.

I could see her eyes follow my hand as I wrote, my handwriting much thicker and darker than her own. Neat, nonetheless.

"You like the rain?" She questions, glancing at her journal.

"Love," I respond.

She smiles at me now, the most beautiful fucking smile I've ever seen. "Me too."

I don't know what pulled me to sit at this damn table. I could've just got my coffee and sat in the other corner, but fuck. I felt like her energy pulled me here. Like I couldn't resist.

As I said, she's so damn intriguing.

I want to know everything about her. I want to know what makes her sit in this cafe at nearly one in the morning. I know why I'm here, but why is she?

"Why don't we list as many things as we can think of, and then each night we can pick whichever one we feel like doing." She suggests, gently pulling her journal from me.

I look at her, amazed that somehow, my avoidance of the sleepless nights led me here.

"Or, I mean, if you're totally regretting this-um, feel free to ignore me, haha." She nervously rambles, a product of my lack of response.

Shit, I'm staring.

"No," I say, not giving a fuck how creepy I look. "Let's do it. How do you feel about midnight bowling?"

She smiles a bright, beautiful smile. "I love bowling!" She writes it down.

We keep snowballing off one another, coming up with a collection of random shit to occupy our nights. I want so badly to question everything about her, but I don't want to scare her off.

Relax, Z. You just met the girl.

By the time two rolled around, we'd come up with fourteen ideas. Fourteen nights I'd get to spend with her. It felt strange, the idea of spending so much time with a stranger, but nothing felt more right for some reason.

"You two have been here quite some time. Can I get you anything?" An older woman approaches our table. I've seen her before, but where?

"I think I'm good, Bonnie. Thank you," Scarlett responds kindly.

"I'm good too, thanks." She turns to me, an expression I can't quite read on her face. She looks between the two of us and smiles.

"I'm Bonnie, dear. I own this place," she greets me, extending her hand for me to shake.

"Zayn," I respond, shaking her hand. "Don't you have an employee you can stick with the graveyard shift?"

She laughs. "Oh certainly, but I love this place at night. That's why I made it, sweetie."

"Makes sense," I respond.

Bonnie looks like she wants to say something, but Scarlett beats her to it. "Bonnie, don't you dare embarrass me." Are they related or something? It seems unlikely considering the difference in skin tone and absolutely no resembling features.

"What?!" Bonnie exclaims, clutching her heart in mock hurt. "I would never, sweet girl."

Scarlett shakes her head with a knowing smile. "Oh, you would."

I probably showed my confusion because Bonnie began explaining. "This poor girl's at this table alone almost every night. We've built up quite a bond."

"See!" Scarlett exclaims, raising her arms and dropping them. "You're doing it right now, Bon."

"I am not!" They begin to argue, and I smile as I watch. Scarlett's side profile is even more stunning than her front. She isn't my type at all, but I can't take my eyes off of her. There's something about her. Something I can't explain.

Once Bonnie says her goodbyes, we decided we should probably head home, too. I have a big trial starting tomorrow so I better at least try to get some sleep.

But fuck, I could talk to her all night.

We head our separate ways until I see her about to cross the street rather than head to the parking lot.

Did she walk here? Alone?

"Scarlett!" I shout as she crosses the street. I jog to catch up with her. She stops and turns to face me, confusion etched onto her face.

"Forget something?" She asks.

"Are you walking home?" She nods; her confusion only grows. "Alone?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I'll walk you," I say, crossing the rest of the road to avoid getting us both rocked by a car.

She shakes her head, pulling my arm. "No, Zayn. That's not necessary."

Say my name again. Please say my name again.

"Nope," I say shortly. "I'm a lawyer, remember? I see the shit that happens on these streets once the sun sets. It's not safe, Scarlett."

She rolls her eyes but walks beside me anyway. "I can protect myself, you know."

I'm sure she can. I don't doubt it, but I've seen the evil that humanity creates, and I'll be damned if anything happens to this woman I've gotten the pleasure of meeting.

Rocky would be making fun of your ass right now.

The walk is short, only a little under a mile until we are in front of her apartment complex. It's a run-down building, definitely on the older side, but typical of a college student in California.

We didn't talk much on our way here, but it didn't bother me. It was relaxing, not having to talk.

"This is me," she says quietly, turning to face me.

I don't realize how close we are until I turn to look at her, too. She smells like lavender and honey, the most refreshing scent I think I've ever smelt.

"Thank you for walking me home." She smiles, taking a step back from me, probably realizing our proximity as well.

"Anytime," I say, smiling back at her. She struggles to hold my eye contact, but I can't stop looking into her gorgeous chocolate-colored eyes. "Goodnight, Scarlett."

"Night, Zayn." She gives me one last look, a teeth-less smile on her bright pink lips. She walks away from me, and I wait for her to safely unlock her door and head inside before turning on my heel.

The way she says my fucking name.

I think of her and our list for the rest of my walk. My apartment is on the opposite side of the city, but I don't mind.

The darkness of the world comforts me as I walk alone, trying to focus on my trial coming up. It is useless, though. I can't think of anything but the brunette angel drinking coffee after midnight, something I thought only my insomniac ass did.

I feel like I've known her for years. As soon as I sat at that table and introduced myself, I felt like we'd hung out millions of times before.

She's normal. She's a basic brunette, just like the hundreds of girls I've known throughout my life. Except, she's not like them. Somehow, she's different, but I can't figure it out.

I should've never sat down at that damn table. Now she is another thing to keep me awake at night.

Fuck. I didn't even get her number.

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Hi friends :) I've never written from a male pov before, so please let me know your thoughts, and any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!