The Story of Finneas - [COMPLETED]

1.

His name is Finneas, but people call him Finn. Not me. I like 'Finneas'. He had beautiful blue eyes, the kind which you get lost easily in. His dirty blond hair was of medium length, just barely touching his collarbones. His beard wasn't that thick and kind of patchy on his cheeks. The thing I adore the most about Finneas is his deep, smooth voice. I've tried to convince him to record himself singing and upload it to YouTube, but he said his voice isn't good enough to make him famous. I, myself, believe of the opposite.

People say you meet good people in good places, and that's the kind of things people who go to church say. I, personally, don't believe it. I met Finneas in a bar just a few miles from my apartment. Although it was the nearest bar from my place, I still don't know why I didn't hang out in that bar often. I had always hung out in other bars around town.

Finneas had just arrived from his hometown that day. He had a long day of unpacking and decided to freshen up by chugging a few beers in that particular bar, Sizzles, which was pretty close to his place too. From the first sight, I knew Finneas was an extrovert. As a new guy, he got to know people quickly. I remember the first time I saw him; with his rugged denim jacket, a plain navy shirt, a pair of jeans, and his favorite brown boots. He was involved in a hearty conversation with the bartender. I remember his deep-sounding laugh as the bartender was giving him the answer to the joke I couldn't hear. He closes his eyes and leans back when he laughs.

I trotted quickly to the bar table, just a few stools away from Finneas. I ordered a glass of scotch on the rocks to the bartender. He served it with impressive speed. I took a sip of my scotch and glanced at Finneas. He didn't seem to notice that I was there. His thumbs were busy typing on the screen of his phone, and he stopped to take a big gulp of his beer. He was drinking my favorite brand of beer, which made me like him instantly.

He finally seemed to notice me, and he quickly looked down to his phone to lock it and put it inside his pocket. He smiled as he scooted over towards me.

"I rarely see a girl with a glass of scotch," Finneas' blue eyes twinkled as his smile grew wider.

I raised my eyebrows and smiled back. "You haven't seen a lot of girls, maybe. I know a bunch of women who are a big fan of a great glass of scotch."

"Well, in where I come from, women usually are spotted with beer or a nice, girly cocktail."

I chuckled. "Beer is a close second, but no girly cocktails, please."

He laughed and raised his beer bottle before chugging it.

"Hey, where do you come from, anyway?" I asked, starting to be a bit curious about him.

"Somewhere in North Carolina. It's not a big place, you won't know it anyway." He smirked.

"Alright," I nodded. "But how come you don't have the accent?"

"Trust me, it was hard work to get rid of that accent," he winked and then laughed. "Truth be told, I came here to kinda... Run away."

There, he made me raise my eyebrows again. "Run away... from who? Loan sharks? Arranged marriage?"

He smiled and stared at a wall for some time, as if he was reminiscing something.

"Long story short, I got my heart broken... bad. I thought I needed to start a new page in my life, while really, I just don't want to see her again." He chuckled as if it was nothing, but I sensed a bitter note in his voice.

"Ah," I rolled my eyes, "The classic case of a broken-hearted man, traveling his ways onto new places. I hope you succeed in that 'moving on' thing, young man."

He smirked again and shuffled his hair roughly. "Anyway, I haven't introduced myself properly. I'm Finneas."

He held out his hand and I shook it.

"I'm Brooke. Nice to meet you, Finneas."

He smiled widely, and I can't help to notice small dimples on his cheeks, hidden within his beard. I couldn't help but smile too.

And that was the day I met Finneas.