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“When Eyes Meet: Love at First Sight”

At a little corner bistro in the city, the chime over the entryway jingled delicately as a man stepped in. He was mid-thirties, wearing a well used denim coat, his dim hair marginally disheveled from the breeze outside. He filtered the space for an unfilled seat, however the bistro was pressed.

With the exception of one table. In the corner by the window, a lady sat alone, her back to him. She had long earthy colored hair that flowed down her shoulders, and she was perusing a book with some espresso before her. She looked up and grabbed his attention briefly.

He faltered, then strolled over.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” he asked, highlighting the unfilled seat.

She grinned, somewhat astonished yet not terribly so. “No, go on,” she said, her voice warm, and motioned for him to sit.

He plunked down, and the two of them got back to their espresso briefly of abnormal quiet. Yet, it wasn’t awkward; there was an odd straightforwardness in the air between them, similar to they were two characters in a similar story however hadn’t exactly sorted out the plot yet.

“Insane day,” he murmured, looking at the barista, who was hustling behind the counter.

“Inform me,” she answered, offering a delicate giggle. “You ought to have seen the line before. Be that as it may, presently, it’s euphorically calm.”

“Better believe it.” He reclined, grabbing her attention once more. “I couldn’t say whether it’s the espresso or only something about this spot, yet I feel like I’ve been here previously.”

She read up him briefly, her temple wrinkling. “You’re not from here, right?”

“No, I’m not,” he conceded. “Be that as it may, I don’t have any idea. It’s weird. It feels natural.” He stopped, taking a full breath, as though something was foaming just underneath the surface. “This could sound insane, yet I feel like I’m intended to be here.”

She put her espresso down and took a gander at him, her interest provoked. “That is entertaining you say that. I felt exactly the same thing when I strolled in. Like, this is where I should have been, at this accurate second.”

He gazed at her for a thump, his heart beating, an unusual feeling of acknowledgment washing over him. There was something in her eyes — a flash — that he couldn’t exactly make sense of. His mouth went dry. “Are you… Do you have faith in destiny?” he asked, his voice calmer at this point.

Her lips bended into a knowing grin, and briefly, it seemed like the world external the window had disappeared. “Perhaps,” she said delicately. “I’ve generally believed there’s a justification for each gathering, each second. Some are momentary, and some… are intended to endure. You know?”

The association between them felt electric, similar to a string had been pulled rigid between their souls. She shifted her head marginally. “What’s your name?”

“Ethan,” he said.

“Isla,” she answered, her grin extending as she connected with shake his hand.

“Isla… ” he mumbled, testing the name all the rage. “Isla… I don’t know how to say this, yet I’ve been thinking this entire time, I’ve had this second with you previously. Like a fantasy. Or on the other hand a memory I won’t ever have.”

She gestured, as though she saw flawlessly. “I understand what you mean. I’ve generally accepted that individuals have these minutes throughout everyday life, these crossing points, where things simply click. That feeling when it resembles you’re on a similar way, regardless of whether you realize it existed.”

Ethan’s look mellowed. “Also, when you meet somebody, that one individual… It simply checks out.”

“Precisely,” she murmured.

Time appeared to slow around them. The espresso machine, the mumble of different clients, the jingle of the entryway each time it opened — every last bit of it blurred. They were at this point not only two outsiders in a bistro. They were two spirits that had forever been intended to meet. In a vast expanse of limitless potential outcomes, they were right here. Together. Finally.

“I couldn’t say whether this is insane,” he said discreetly, “however do you trust in… unexplainable adoration?”

Isla’s eyes mellowed, her voice scarcely a murmur. “Perhaps. Or on the other hand perhaps it’s not head over heels love. Perhaps it’s simply… acknowledgment. Perceiving something you’ve been searching for your entire life.”

Ethan slowly inhaled, at long last permitting himself to trust it, to feel the heaviness of what they had recently shared. He inclined across the table, his hand drifting close to hers, uncertain assuming he ought to connect.

She grinned and, without a word, put her hand on his. Once more, also, in that basic, little motion, something clicked — something that had been sitting tight for the two of them from the beginning.

The barista got down on a request, breaking the spell, yet the two of them remained where they were, hands entwined, a calm comprehension between them.

“Well,” Isla said after a second, her voice warm and prodding, “I surmise we have five minutes to sort out our other lives, huh?”

Ethan chuckled delicately, his heart hustling with a feeling of harmony.