Whisper of a thrill

I showed up at Jacks to see a bartender friend I'd been hoping to speak with, not so much to see the band. Angie (the bartender) wasn't working, so I stood at the bar, watching people as they sipped drinks and talked about which of the two bands they'd come to see.

I'd seen Elly around but hadn't ever even really made eye contact, so when I ended up being invited to join she and her friends and when we started talking, I was pleasantly surprised to find her quite engaging. When it was time to leave the bar, she took my hand in hers and lead me outside to where her friends had stopped just ahead of us and held on to it for a moment as they looked at our interlocked fingers somewhat incredulously. Her hand slipped from mine and we didn't take them up again; I could feel her fingers, even after they'd gone and I looked for the right moment to take them up again, but it never really seemed to come.

We wandered the city until late in the night, long after we'd walked her friends home and it was nice. She was nice. She's from my home state, so we had a lot to talk about. Her accent was thick, like it is in the far north and she cited Finnish heritage. We had one particularly hangout spot in common, so that's where we went. Friends of mine sat across the bar, wondering if I needed rescue or if they would be interrupting and truth be told, I wasn't entirely certain. There was something about her that made the situation pleasing, when with some others it might not have been so much.

We stopped for late night food and then I walked her home. She asked me if I wanted one more drink at Flanagans, but I politely declined; it was late and I wanted things to end while they were still in that magic hour and not after we'd overstayed a moment.

I didn't take her number; I should have. I'll see her around though and there is something thrilling about finding someone again, about the search; will I see her today? Will it be tomorrow? Will she smile as brightly as she did when she said goodnight? That's the thrill isn't it; whispering in my ear?