All that was in my mind was how perfect you looked
in that unbleached T shirt,
leaning on the table with your chin on your fist,
green eyes staring into
h o n e y b r o w n.

"They serve the best milkshakes ever!"

You sounded so much like a kid.

"My favourite is Butterscotch. What's yours? Wait, let me guess it.
Chocolate?
Oreo?              
Cookie dough?"             

"Butterscotch," my lips blurted out.

And with the way your eyes lighted up,
I decided to let sixteen years of my hate for milkshakes g o.