"Uh... you go ahead," I slowly twist in my chair to face him, unsure if this is actually happening. "Just, talk about the biggest thing on your mind... Like, the one thing you you've bottled up for so long, that if you don't twist that cap a little bit it's gonna spew all over the place." That doesn't make sense.

But he gives a half grin, as if he understood completely.

"Well... my mother passed away recently. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. A car crash. Terrifying how life's so random, isn't it? She was young, in her mid forties."

"Wow..." I manage, "Your problems make mine sound like a vacation. I'm... I'm so sorry."

He purses his lips and nods. "Doesn't matter if I think they're petty, does it? You'll never see me again. So, go ahead," He turns toward me, "What's your problem?"

"I'm... single," I mumble, feeling suddenly stupid. "I've always have been. And... I don't know..."

"Yes you do," he says softly.

I glance at him, and shift in my seat, facing away from him. "I... It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong. Like I'm ugly. Like I'm fat. And I can't talk to anyone about it because they'll just try to make me feel better." The more I talk, the more slips out unwillingly. "They'll tell me that looks don't even matter, and all that other stuff. And I know that already!" I throw my hands up, forgetting the pettiness of my complaints for the moment.  "That doesn't change how I feel, though. I don't want compliments or encouragement! I just want them to understand how I'm feeling." My hands hit the bar and I sigh.

"My mother..." he stopped himself, searching for the right words. "She owned a company. She left it to me, so my father can't manage it. But I can't inherit it yet, either. According to some weird laws, I have to be married." He looks at me and grins, "So don't worry, your not the only one with lack-of-romance issues."

"Well, your problems blow mine out of the water."

"Try something else then. New problem."

"I'm uh... broke."

"Aren't we all?" He laughs.

I can't help but let a laugh slip myself, "Yeah... I guess so. But when I picked my major I pretty much took an oath of poverty."

He cocks a brow at this, slightly confused, "What's your major?"

"Film," I say, breathing a laugh. "Yeah, there isn't really a high demand for wannabe directors."

"You're just setting yourself up for failure, aren't you?" He asks sarcastically.

"You're not very encouraging."

"You said you didn't want that?"

"Yeah," I grin, "I don't."

"Very well then," He straightens up and takes another swig of his coffee. "So you're going to be poor and alone the rest of your life, and I'm going to get stuck with a mail order bride and a business I'm terrified to run."

"Cheers to our lousy lives," I say, raising my cup of coffee. We "clink" our coffee together (more like a light thump, considering they're styrofoam cups).

I feel ever so slightly better. I think that he might too, except he looks like he's thinking. After we finish our coffee he turns sharply towards me, "I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to say no. But think it over when you're home?"

"Uh... what?"

He locks eyes with me and I'm a little unnerved at just how intense he looks. Without breaking his gaze he sets his cup on the counter. He takes a deep breath before finally spitting it out, "Marry me."