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The Art Of Falling In Love

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When had it all started?

 

Andrés was sure it had started the evening someone not only dared to insult his tie, but also continued to make fun of his best friend rather loudly.
If you asked Martín though, these feelings had started much earlier, to be exact almost ten years earlier in Germany, Berlin.

Martín wasn't one for the arts. That much was clear, for most people it was even clear at first sight. When he waltzed around in his black leather jacket along with washed out jeans and a simple shirt, you couldn't expect too much artistry from the Argentinian.
Even if some people didn't see this at first sight, Martín made sure to inform them about this by not only belittling art majors but also ridiculing everything that had even anything remotely to do with art. He wasn't made for it and to be quite honest, he simply couldn't see the appeal about standing in front of a canvas to try and analyse the feelings of the artist.
That's why he preferred engineering. It was simple, uncomplicated and there were no feelings involved. Mathematics was just numbers to be put together and equations to solve without worrying about any form of feeling.

He was on an exchange year in Berlin that his university had provided for some of the more talented students, which meant that Martín being at the top of his class, basically got a free trip to Berlin. Although Berlin wouldn't be his favourite destination, he could at least appreciate the free food and a free dorm. Besides that, he found himself often in the local bars and pubs, since the German did have quite good beer.

It was on one of these outings that he met Andrés.

The Argentinian had stood up from his spot to order himself another beer. The bar was packed with people since it was a friday evening and most working people tended to get their "Feierabendbier" here, as the locals called it. It was a wonder Martín had even gotten himself a free seat, which was why he raised his eyebrows at the man now sat in his seat. "Amigo, you're sitting at my spot. I wouldn't mind sitting in your lap, but maybe you should consider getting your own seat", Martín said with a grin, his cheap beer clutched in his hand. The stranger in front of him didn't look like he belonged in this place. It wasn't just the fancy designer suit that made him stick out so much, the man also had a certain sense of authority around him. He seemed powerful and confident, like a man you wouldn't want to cross. And yet, Martín was grinning at the guy and flirting with him.

"I'm terribly sorry but where's your name tag on this seat? Surely, I must have overlooked it. Oh no, I haven't because I am free to sit anywhere I please. However, since I am nothing but friendly, you can sit with me, amigo."

This stranger sure had some nerves to invite Martín to his own seat, but he didn't come here looking for trouble and the man was definitely handsome. Nobody should mind handsome company, not even Martín did. So, with just a smirk, the engineer placed his beer on the table right next to the other's wine glass, moved around and promptly sat on his lap as promised. He leaned back to gauge the man's reaction to his shameless flirting, but instead of shock or disgust, the other male just laughed.

"Andrés de Fonollosa. Usually, I get a lady a drink before they sit down on my lap, but you don't seem to stick to these traditions, do you?"

 

 

Martín didn't believe in love at first sight, but he later on swore that this was the exact moment that had doomed him for years to come.