Finding You, Looking for Me: A Henry Cavill FanFic

Part 4: Being Bold and Letting Kismet Take its Course

So, the night that he came into the bar—about a year after I had made my list in my iPhone, and about five years before I didn't want to go to the grocery store—I poured drinks while he sat at the end of the bar, looking at his phone.

I had vaguely read about this man, in the same context that I'd read about any movie star—I loved looking at him and it was fun to see him in films. I tried to remember what I had read—he didn't like cats, he was shy, he had a sweet tooth—and none of it seemed to be helpful to me right then.

"Fuck it," I muttered aloud to myself.

I brought him another beer. He smiled and nodded a thank you, and I held his eye.

"Can I take you out to dinner?" I asked him.

He raised his eyebrows while drinking from his beer, his eyes shining over the glass.

"Pardon me?" he gulped, obviously surprised. Honestly, I was surprised that I had asked it, too.

I grew bold and leaned closer across the bar, "Can I take you out to dinner?" I repeated slowly.

He laughed uncomfortably. "Ah, I'm not sure what my schedule is like for my stay."

I shook my head. I lowered my voice, "Make the time," I said to him.

He held my eye, his mouth slightly ajar. I had no idea what he was going to say. I half expected him to brush me off, close out his tab, and leave. But he looked at me like he was really mulling it over.

"What do you have in mind?" He asked.

I pushed my panic aside, "I'd pick you up, drive you around town, take you out to a great restaurant, enjoy dinner and drinks, and return you safely where I found you." My insides were buzzing, but my voice was confident and steady. I don't know what had come over me.

He smiled, embarrassed, "Um...all right." He leaned closer yet to me. I could smell him, and the smell was intoxicating. "What's your name?" he asked me, smiling widely.

I laughed loudly. "Sarah."

"Want to go over the plan over a cig?" he smiled at me, chuckling to himself.

I looked over at Paul, who had seen me talking to Henry. I nodded to him, assuming he could read my mind right then. I grabbed my coat and swung out from behind the bar.

Once outside, both of us puffing on Dunhills, we were both quiet. I know I was terrified. I had always been aggressive when it came to men, but I'd all but given up on men by then. I was alone often, and I couldn't be bothered making efforts to woo a man.

"No one has ever asked me out like that," he said to me quietly.

"Yeah, I guess..." my voice trailed off, and I wanted to be honest, "i didn't want to lose my opportunity."

He nodded as if he understood that sentiment.

"It'll be fun," I reassured him. I pulled off my cigarette and looked him in the eyes, "I promise."

Not creepy at all, Sarah.

He laughed. We exchanged information and I let him know I'd phone him when I was near his hotel tomorrow evening.

He came back in and had more to drink, and we laughed and talked about all kinds of things. Paul joined our conversation, interjecting stories about his time in Bible camp as a child.

"Sarah!" someone yelled across the bar. Tyrus, another neighborhood bartender, was calling for my attention. I gave Henry the "one-minute signal" and headed to Tyrus.