The lights are dim and golden, casting a warm glow over the room. The air smells of jasmine, from the diffuser someone had set up on the table to add to the ambience, as well as the scent of books - which there's an abundance of around here. This place is always so relaxing, a haven welcoming all enthusiasts of poetry.

Of course you love it here - assembling every other Saturday evening to just slow down for a bit, take a break from from the hustle of everyday life, and read, recite and discuss all sorts of poetry. Sharing originals. Elocution. A group of about a dozen individuals, meeting up once a fortnight for all things poetry, brewing tea and sitting upon cosy beanbags on the floor, engaging in calm, stimulating discourse.

Today, everyone's taking turns reading their favourite poem aloud - you've chosen "She Walks in Beauty" by Lord Byron. It's admittedly a bit basic, but it's been your favourite for years, and you know it by heart, there's no way you can forget it.

You stand up and begin reciting when it's your turn, despite feeling nervous - you're comfortable with everyone here and are fully aware it's a safe and judgement free zone, but having all the attention on you is always rather scary, in your opinion.

"She walks in beauty like the night, Of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best- that's- that's best of-"

Oh god, no. You're completely tongue tied from nerves, it's embarrassing, you need to quit the club and never show your face here again-

"And all that's best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light, which Heaven to gaudy day denies."

It's Elis - he'd prompted you, helping put you out of your misery. Due to his help, the words flow to you and you recite the rest of the poem perfectly.

"...A mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent!" You conclude with a smile, and are met with applause from everyone.

As you sit down - the butterflies in your stomach rampage wildly. The guy you've been crushing on for months knows your favourite poem by heart - and he'd helped you recite it! The literature nerd and the romantic in you are SCREAMING.

When everyone's taking a break for tea and biscuits, you make a move. You take your tea, and make your way over to him, settling down next to him and deciding to thank him for helping you earlier.