You weren't exactly in the dating scene. More or less, just hoping the man of your dreams would materialize in your living room and save you the trouble. Of course, that was probably the result of not having enough confidence in yourself to truly catch someone's attention. Your friends saw this every day in the way you avoided interacting with attractive people.

They'd had enough.

So there you were, in your car late at night outside of a local pub, trying to hype yourself up enough to go in. Except you sucked at the whole "positive self-image" thing.

A message your friend sent kept flashing through your mind. It wasn't crazy, just a little out of the ordinary. He's punctual. Quiet, too. And try not to stare too much. He has scars on his face, but he's not some mafioso.

A punctual guy, and here you were, five minutes late and still trying to get the courage to go in. And scars on his face? But he's not some gang member? Jesus, what did the guy do?

You quickly realized it was rude to make someone wait on you and felt horrible, the guilt motivating you to get out of your car and go in. It was a nice little pub, nothing extravagant but not toeing the line of health inspections either. You checked your phone and looked around to find the table. The man was already there. Punctual.

"Are you... Simon?" The nerves showed in your voice even as you tried to sound at least comfortable.

He nodded, face unreadable as you sat down. When your friend warned you about scars, you expected something cruel looking, but this man only had a few, and they weren't even that horrible. "Ordered you a water, hope you dont mind." Simon muttered as a waitress set the cup in front of you.

"Oh, thank you." You reached for the straw, "Im sorry, I'm a little late, I was in the parking lot trying to settle my nerves. I've never been on a blind date before."

Simon nodded but didn't give much in terms of a response. He truly was the quiet type, and you weren't sure if that was good or bad yet.