I obviously sat and watched her as she presented her book. She has this light within her that is like a disease. She smiles and I find myself smiling, without a reason. Smiling because she's smiling. And I don't even have to act happy.

After I go downstairs, and I simply stay there smiling at her as she's preparing to go. She smiles back and neither of us knows what to say. 

She wants to say something, but then stops. She hesitates again, and then asks:

"Would you mind if you walked me to University?"

WOULD I MIND? WOULD I MIND? OF COURSE NOT, THIS DAY COULDN'T BE BETTER!

I obviously don't say that. But I don't try to act detached and indifferent. 

Instead I say, "I'd love to."

I reach out to her hand and ask, "May I?". She blushes and looks away three time, I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, so I quickly say, "But you don't have to."

She snaps back to reality, grabs my hand and, blurts out, "Oh, it's totally fine!"

We get out of Old Town and for the first time ever I go to the underground. It was really exciting, although I was scared. I kept asking her questions like I'd discovered new land. It was a train! Under the ground! And it was very fast, and there were a bunch of people there and they were all so bored and tired of anything and nobody gave a damn about me! I was just a stranger in a crowd. I wasn't the famous Adam Levignée. I was just Adam Levignée, walking Olivia Popescu to University. We are in a place called Piața Romană. And it looked incredible. It was as though Paris had clashed with the Ottoman Empire and the Communist Era. I want to write a song in this city. I loved it here.

We get to her University, and that's when our conversation about architecture/metros/ourselves/literature ends.

She says, "My course lasts two hours, and then I've got another class that lasts an hour and a half, so you don't have to wait for me. I'll just give you my phone number and you let me know where to come to have dinner with you." 

Oh, I'm not leaving her alone. 

"I don't mind waiting for you. I'll be waiting here when you get out."

She blushes, looks away and then says, "See you later, alligator." 

Her face turns red. I didn't want to make her feel bad for the pun, so I quickly tell her, "Peace out, brussels sprout."

And she starts laughing. So I start laughing, too. And when I look down I realise that our fingers had been intertwined this whole time. Only when she removes her hand do I notice how lovely that feeling was. How I longed for her fingers to meet mine again. Three hours and a half. This dinner must go extremely well, our whole lives depend on it. I need to tear the walls down. I need to wreck them.

Oh, I'm enamoured. And man, is this city romantic! I've never been so in love. I've never been in love. But she's the one. The feeling is getting to my head. I just want to be in her presence every damn moment. I want her to talk and talk to me. I just want her. 

I look around and find a nice restaurant. Yes, that's where I will take her. It has candlelight and I reserved a table in a corner so nobody will bother us. I go admire the Romanian athenaeum. And people start to recognise me again. I know I should've gotten used to it by now. But I still find it weird how wherever I go I become a tourist attraction. How people always want to take a picture, have me sign something. And it's dehumanising. It might just be me. 

When I have only 30 minutes left, I rush to go sit in front of the University. She gets out 43 minutes later (I counted) and I ask her if I can hold her hand, and ask her about what she'd studied. 

I like economics, it is more fascinating coming from her mouth. 

"Sorry, I never know when to stop talking." She randomly stops.

"No, no. Keep going, I am interested now. And if you will not enlighten me I fear I might live in sorrow forever."

She laughs and continues until we get to the restaurant. I pull her chair, and we order our food. I decided to try a Romanian dish called "Ardei Umpluți" while she went for Carbonara Pasta. 

We kept small talking about her books, my movies and albums, she started talking to me about her family, and while we were waiting for the dessert, I grab her hand and look her straight into her eyes,

"Okay, we kept it breif - but now it's time we talk about the serious stuff."

She asks me, evidently nervous, "What's the serious stuff?"

I lean in closer to her, "What is your favourite book?"

She starts laughing, "'The Hunger Games'. How about you?"

There's my chance, "Oh, a book series by this author I don't think you know her, Olivia Popescu? Yeah, she's amazing. Although 'The Hunger Games' is a great choice."

She starts laughing, like laughing hard. And as we eat our dessert we hold our hands and keep staring at each other. After we're done, we go to a concert at the Romanian athenaeum, but the only thing I can focus on is her. 

And as we walk out, neither of us wants to say goodbye, and she suggests I walk with her to the underground, and that turns into me going in the underground with her, and then walking with her to her flat. And as we stand in her door frame, I ask, "I hope I'm not imprudent by asking you if you'd like to repeat our evening some time soon."

She smiles and says, "When, tomorrow?" 

YES! YES! YES!

I reply calmly and collected, "Well, if you wish, I shall oblige."

She chuckles and I simply can't help myself, I lean in and ask, "May I?"

"Please," comes her reply. 

And our lips met and the world stopped spinning. The dopamine rushes through my veins. She's so short I'm leaning in and she's still on her tiptoes. 

Damn, I just can't stop. She breaks it by pushing me away, and asking me, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow? In Old Town?" 

See me everyday of our lives, please.

"Of course."

And I give her my phone number. She then walks in and I'm left like a puppy outside. I call an Uber and text every single detail to Harry who ended up going to every museum Bucharest had to offer. He was happier than me, which is very hard to top. 

When I get back to the hotel, I shower, brush my teeth, change into pajamas and throw myself on my bed. 

This day was literally perfect. 

And then the phone rings, I thought it was Harry so I answered it without looking and instead of being met by Harry's kind voice, I was met by my mother's yells. Of course she had to mess it up! How could they not ruin a perfect day?