She did come out and she did sit at the small metal table with him. She sat and placed her sub and drink on the table and then leant down to her feet to pull up her falling white socks. Her shoes were sensible and brown, she was a nerdy dream and Marcus was on a cloud of love (sounds corny but it was true, he was really happy). "Nice choice by the way, I like that sub, well I mean obviously that's why I ordered it and..." she said with a nervous stutter. She was as nervous and shy as him. He tried to talk about television which was a success due to her having the same obsessions with Doctor Who, Sherlock and The League Of Gentlemen. They spoke of their favourite characters and how frustrated Moffat and Gatiss made them with their extensive use of cliff hangers. They spoke about literature and their favourite authors; Kim Newman and Arthur Conan Doyle. They couldn't have been more in tune with one another. They talked about their mixed love for a range of music from the Carpenters to The Smiths and The Beatles to The Clash. It was during a discussion of their favourite member of The Beatles the woman dipped into her satchel and retrieved a Walkman. Marcus knew she was perfect, she even shared his love for the world of vintage. They laughed long into lunch until Marcus caught the clock in his eye line and realised he was half an hour late back from lunch. In a panic he frowned and looked from his half finished sub up to the captivating eyes of the woman. "I have to go to work, might I see you again?" she smiled and her red cheeks said "I'd like that a lot". Her full red lips said "I'll be here the same time tomorrow if that's suitable?". He nodded and grinned as he gathered his things and hurried off to his office with a warm heart and a loud beating in his chest. He wouldn't...he couldn't stop smiling all the way to his desk. He ever managed to get all the way up in the lift without even once thinking about his anxieties. He was cured...
Or so it would have seemed.
