early-1981
The black haired girl at the bar was beautiful. Not like a model, not like someone you’d see on the street and think ‘she’s alright’, she looked otherworldly, an alien beauty. Her skin contrasted her hair, pale as the moon and slightly reddened from the amount she was drinking.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and so, as boys did, he strolled up to her, starting a casual chat about the day, buying her yet another drink. But she seemed to be painfully uninterested, mumbling to herself.
”What, do you have a boyfriend?” He has asked, no ill intent meant. And Fia met his eyes finally, and he saw how the red irises of her eye flashed with a want, a desire.
“I did.” She said simply, pushing her stool from the bar and slipping out of the door.
Safe to say, he was head over heels.