Her Eyes His Smile

Chapter 2

//A/N~This part of the story will be in the lovey Benji's POV. Good luck with the repeated dialogue. Enjoy!

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Benjamin's POV
Ello! I'm Benjamin Wilkins, I'm 29 years old and I live in Pasadena, California. I work at a little bookstore on the north side of the city, nothing too special. The job keeps busy enough, while in my spare time I've been writing my own book. Also not too special, I guess. Though after my last relationship hit the fan I've lost inspiration, which doesn't thrill my publicist or help the lurking of deadlines. Writer's block has wreaked havoc on my life. Killing any social relationships I had, not that I had many to begin with.

I was trying to get somewhere, anywhere, with my book when my phone starts ringing. It's my friend Christopher, one of the few people that hasn't given up on to me due to this damn book.

"Hey dude. What's up?" I say, mildly frustrated with my lack of progress, running my fingers through my disheveled hair.

"Hey Ben. Want to go to the bar tonight? I need a wing man." Fuck. Okay. Might as well get out of the house, maybe I'll find some inspiration. Maybe even a new muse. Actually, let's be real, I won't. Doesn't mean I need one any less, always worth a try.

"Ya man, sounds good." I huffed out, standing up from my hurricane-wrecked desk. I should look at least semi-presentable.

"Sick. Be there in ten man." He hangs up and I'm left in my mess of an apartment, alone. I should clean when I get home. This book is killing me.

"Hmmmph." I let out a long, low sigh. I guess I should get ready, throwing something, somewhat clean and somewhat socially acceptable on. I hear Chris honk from downstairs not long after.

"God, lazy ass can't even come to the door." I grumble as I chuckle and shake my head, walking out of my apartment and down to his car.

"Damn, dressing up tonight huh?" Chris taunts as I buckle myself in. I chuckle to myself and roll my eyes.

"Like you have any room to talk. Those glasses make you look like you're from Portland and grow your own Quinoa." I sneer, laughing harder than I should have at my own joke. Chris on the other hand didn't find my comment as hilarious.

"Fuck off. The only person you're going home with tonight is me so you can't say shit." I laugh at his unfortunate truth. Yea it's true that I haven't been on the dating scene much these last few years. My work has been my biggest priority, which may be taking it's toll on my love life.

Now, I'm not one to drink, haven't since college. I like to think those days are past me, Chris on the other hand may enjoy beer a little too much. If you catch my drift. Though I don't mind being designated driver, not like I have much else to do. The book isn't going anywhere.

We get to the bar, park, and head in, the door ringing from the bell above our heads. Chris makes a B-line for a group of girls in the back by the pool tables, leaving me to fend for myself. I catch a glimpse of a girl sitting at the bar alone, she was really beautiful, but I tried to mind my own. That didn't last long though. My clumsy ass manages, out of every person in the bar, to knock into this beautiful mystery girl. Shit.

She looks up at me, her pupils dilating. That must be good, right?

"O-oh I'm sorry." I mumble shyly, looking down at her. she was a few good inches below me. I can see her think for a second before she slyly smirks.

"Dude you fucked up my Tetris." She says stone-faced, but still holding onto that ghosting of a smile. Her eyes still bright. She's messing with me, I can tell. It's cute, I chuckle and smile down at her softly. She returns my smile, sweetly.