Wednesday, April 6, 2011

she’s a work in progress.

The white tile floor sends chills up her spine as she tiptoes across to the coffee brewer. She quickly fixes up a pot and while waiting for the coffee to brew, she stifles a yawn and hurriedly ties her hair up in a ponytail. She walks over to the window and watches the cars go by.

She had woken up to daylight leaking through the curtains. She never thought she would wake up next to him—the face of a beautiful stranger. His breathing was slow, his chest rose up and down rhythmically as she laid her hand on his chest, carefully as not to wake him. She grabbed his old t-shirt and snuck out the door.

Hearing the coffee drip into the pot, she walks back to the kitchen. Cringing at the unbearably cold floor, she can hear him stir. She knew he would wake at the aroma of coffee; she placed two white porcelain mugs on the counter and poured the steaming dark liquid. As she turns around, she sees him heading to the bathroom, grunting and mumbling.
Maybe he isn’t used to this; he probably forgot I was even here..
She leans on the counter, waiting for a sign. She can hear the water running and rapid splashes. She lets out a small sigh and walks out onto the patio with mug in hand. Breathing in the cool morning air, she tries to recall how this had started. It is all so blurry to her; it had started with quick glances to coincidental encounters and next thing you  know, they were caught up in each other’s lives.

She gives a quick jump as she feels a hand wrap around her waist. She stifles a giggle as she turns around to face him. She notices he found his mug and smiles. She never noticed how light his eyes were but with the sun shining directly onto both of them, she noticed that they were a shade of honey: golden and sweet. He gives her a quick peck on the forehead and takes out a cigarette. As he lights it, he motions for her to sit down with him on his new patio chairs. She obeys. There are not too many words exchanged as they both sit there and enjoy the unusually warm weather. He holds out his cigarette and she takes a drag. She feels the smoke swirl within her mouth and warm her lungs with a small explosion. She lets out a sigh. He takes one last drag and throws it into the tray. He stands up and stretches his arms and she watches his shirt lift up revealing one of his tattoos on his back. While he is standing, she stretches out her tanned legs and puts her mug down. He walks over her legs as he heads back towards the kitchen. From the patio, she can hear him taking out the frying pan and various dishes.
I wonder if I should stay any longer; he hasn’t said a word about it but it wouldn’t be right to bring it up so suddenly…I wish he could bring it up himself, it’d be better that way…
She heads back in and places the mug in the sink. She looks around and realizes he already has the scrambled eggs on two plates; the slices of bread are in the toaster; the salt and pepper is set on the counter already. She is impressed at his efficiency and refills his mug with coffee. As she does this, he flashes her a quick grin and throws the pan into sink. He grabs her and lifts her up. Her ponytail comes loose and her hair falls across her face, blinding her from his face. He places her on the barstool and sits down beside her. He picks up a fork and begins to eat. She follows him and eats obediently. No words are exchanged, only the sounds of metal scrapping against the milk white porcelain dishes.

“By the way, you look good in that shirt. Keep it if you like.”

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