"I saw you last night, at Starbucks, I don't think you saw me though, you looked pretty concentrated on what you were writing." I started giggling and hid my face in my hands. "What?"
"I was thinking of a name to use for one of the main characters in my story I'm writing and I heard the barista call your name and I thought it was such a beautiful name so I used it." He looked so touched.
"You're writing a story about me?" His hand was over his heart. "That is the most heartwarming thing I've ever heard."
"Well, It's not really about you... just your name." His smile fell from his face.
"Well, why don't you just write about me then?"
"I don't know you though." He leaned in closer.
"Isn't that what writers do? They make things up." He put his arm around the back of the couch; his fingers lightly touched my shoulder and I felt myself blush again.
"I guess, ya."
"Good. Then it's settled. You're going to write about me." He said with that breath taking smile.