Work Text:
Chrissy doesn't believe in love at first sight.
But she might believe in love at first laugh.
The bar is maybe halfway full when she arrives, dragged along to a metal show by her roommate who hasn't even shown up yet.
She goes to the counter and orders a soda; it's a reputable enough place that she finds it unlikely they'd serve her underage, and she doesn't really love the taste of alcohol anyway.
Sitting on a stool, she faces the stage where people are bustling around and setting up for the performance, when a guy peels away from the group and heads to the bar, drinking down a cup of water when the barfly slides him one without comment.
In the dim light his skin shines a little with sweat, wild hair sticking to his forehead and temples, beringed fingers curled around the glass in his hand. He catches her staring before she can pretend to be looking elsewhere, a crooked grin on his pretty face as he sets the glass down and turns towards her.
"Did it hurt?" He looks at her with big, dark eyes, elbow on the counter and chin propped up on his palm.
Chrissy is ready to roll her eyes, waiting for the inevitable "When you fell from heaven" that she's heard again and again, but instead he tilts his head to the side, mischief in his eyes, and says, "You know, when you crawled out of hell," and she chokes on her Shirley Temple, surprised laughter tumbling out of her, loud and bright.
When the mysterious, ridiculous man asks for her number, she actually gives it, and he calls her the following night.
A few years later, she's sporting some rings too, on a very specific finger on her left hand, and she gets to wake up to those big, dark eyes every morning.