At a time when the word traditional could easily describe everything, neither Rafayel nor she quite fit into society.

He, a man over 25 years old, in effect, met the standards of men in those years. He was strong and handsome, worked for the government as a military man and was another stereotype of masculinity.

But he had no wife and no mistress as his family claimed him to find.

She, a girl who also fit the standards of beauty, delicate and sweet, beautiful as a flower and with a kind heart, but not yet married.

That was supposed to be the plan. Meet a beautiful woman, marry her and have children together. So what was different for him who had none of that?

Maybe he was just a down-on-his-luck bastard, who hadn't yet found his soul mate in a town as big as Linkon City was.

But maybe, just today, that luck would change.

Patrolling the streets, Rafayel brought a cigarette to his lips, taking a puff with a seemingly non chalant expression, scanning his surroundings with not much dedication.

His mother's words from this morning echoed in his head, repeating to him over and over again that he had to find a woman to introduce home soon, before the whole neighborhood would be shocked to learn that a handsome young man like him still had no woman to call his own.

Society in the 1960's was shitty.

Maybe his mother was right and a one-eyed man had mitered him to have such bad luck, or maybe fate was holding something amazing in store for him.

As if fate itself had read his mind, in a moment of distraction, he bumped into a young girl, knocking her loaves of bread to the ground.

“Miss, please let me help you.”

He bent down to help that lady, and when his hand reached out to grab the food, his fingers brushed against that girl's, making him look at who she was.

And when he saw that beauty before him? Deep eyes, pretty, plump lips, a delicate face with an exotic mole under her lip.

He felt that, for the first time, he believed in love at first sight.

And perhaps he had just met the love of his life.