Folding For You

Chapter 2: Sabrina

I couldn't believe my eyes. The handsome stranger I had just met at the bar, who casually joined my origami zone, had just poked my dimple. Mine. I am not sure if he is struggling with impulsivity or if he is on a research mission about how dimples actually work. My heart pounded as I tried to process what had just happened.

"You do this a lot?" I asked in a teasing manner, unable to control my own curiosity.

He snapped out of his daze, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm sorry?"

Killian exudes raw masculinity and undeniable allure. His chiselled jawline is sharp and defined, hinting at strength and discipline, while the slight stubble adds a rugged, untamed edge to his polished appearance.

His piercing eyes, a striking green, are intense and captivating, pulling you in with a quiet intensity that suggests much more beneath the surface. They seem to hold a storm of emotions, both guarded and irresistible.

His dark, wavy hair frames his face with a casual, effortless style that contrasts the sharp lines of his features. A rogue curl falls across his forehead, giving him a look of spontaneous allure like he just stepped out of the ocean or finished a high-stakes meeting, equally ready to conquer either.

His full lips are set in a natural firmness, yet a softness to them suggests passion and sensuality, like they're made for deep, lingering kisses.

His expression is fierce and focused as if he's a man who's always in control—of himself, his world, and those around him. Yet, a depth to his gaze hints at vulnerability, a side of him that not everyone is privy to.

He embodies the perfect balance of strength, mystery, and seduction, making him impossible to forget.

"Poking dimples," I clarified, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He let out a low, deep laugh that sent shivers down my spine. "I must admit, it's a new experience."

"You come here often, Dimples?" Killian asked, his voice laced with a playful tone.

I rolled my eyes. "So now I'm Dimples; I thought you were supposed to call me madam president?"

He let out a peal of quiet laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I can't resist."

"To answer your question: Yes, when I'm stressed," I replied nonchalantly. But deep down, I enjoyed his company more than I wanted to admit.

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "You don't exactly seem like a local around here."

"Meaning?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, look at you!" I studied him from head to toe, taking in his bespoke suit, expensive shoes, and even his button-down shirt. He looked like a million bucks.

"Nope," he replied, nudging at the origami shapes on the table. "Those stole the show tonight."

I smiled sadly, not wanting to say goodbye to this man I probably would never see again.

"What's with the face?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

I blurted out, "I don't know why, but I will miss you." Oh wow, I couldn't believe I had just said that.

"Straight-forward. Me likey," he replied, his face breaking into a wide annoying grin. I am sure he heard women saying this to him all the time.

"If you ever pass by this neighbourhood again, there's a place called Wings & Fries down the road – killer hot wings. Tell them that Sabrina recommended it, and they'll probably give you a discount," I suggested.

"Killer hot wings. Got it," he said, nodding.

I checked my watch, my heart sinking. "Oh shoot. I better go. I have an early morning deadline tomorrow."