Saturday, March 22, 2014

private.

So I'm currently supposed to be packing... my mother is moving and I've graciously volunteered to be her moving service, even extended my stay to help out.  But all I wanna do is write and read.  Isn't that funny how when I've got all the time in the world to create I don't want to, but the second I have to dedicate my time to something substantial, all I wanna do is sit around and write.  Anywho... hope you enjoy this because it's certainly helping me to delay the inevitable :)



          With a slight twist of her head, she caught the guy at the next table staring at her.  She allowed herself a small smile at his expense, especially when he fumbled with himself to act as if he hadn't been watching her.  She reached for her steaming cup of tea and took a quick sip, allowing it's heat to warm her, seeings how the cold winter wind was in fierce force that day.  She enjoyed it when men stared.  She knew she had beautiful features about her: dark chestnut hair to her waist, big green eyes, glorious white teeth, plump, inviting lips, a long slender neck.  She didn't let it get to her head, but she knew that she was the object of many men's affection.
          She chanced another glance in his direction and although he wasn't looking at her that time, she could see the struggle on his face, she assumed with whether or not to come and ask to join her in her solitary state.  She managed an internal laugh, because she was anything but solitary.  With that thought, a warm, heavy hand was placed on her shoulder, dragging her out of her own head and smiling up at the gorgeous face that was the owner of that welcome touch.
          He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips, one she felt was too short lived, before sitting across from her.
          "Why'd you choose to sit outside today?" he asked as he wrapped his coat and arms closer to his slightly shivering body.
          That brought a bigger smile to her face, "Why not?" she responded.
          He craned his neck, searching for a waitress and almost as if on cue, she emerged from inside the little cafe with a tray carrying a large cup of coffee.
          "Here's your usual," she mumbled as she placed the hot ceramic mug on the table in front of him.
          He managed a small, "Thank you," as she fluttered off and he brought the welcome liquid to his lips.
          She watched his every move: the way his fingers maneuvered through the tiny handle, his eyes as they focused intently on closing the distance between him and his mug, his lips as they parted and accepted the warmness against his tongue.  It was all she could do not to rip the cup away and wish it was her he was focused on so intently.  Another laugh rose to the surface, this one outward, and his eyes curiously darted up to her.
          "What's so funny?" he asked, an unknowing smile playing at his lips too.
          She let out a puff of semi-frustrated air and teased, "Oh nothing... just wishing I was that coffee right now."
          He let the smile take surface on his face as he set the mug down and reached across the table for her.  She mirrored him, giving him her open hands and allowing him to latch onto her.
          "Well let's get out of here then," he whispered, intensity overtaking his features, a smoldering passion immediately igniting in his gaze.
          She needed no other convincing, reaching for her wallet and being quickly scolded by him.
          "Seriously?" he mumbled, pulling out a ten and sliding it under his still-filled cup.
          She chuckled, knowing the move to pay for herself had been futile, but still attempting to show him that she was capable of taking care of herself.
          When they'd risen and began their walk to her apartment around the corner, she comfortably slipped her arm through his; it was a motion she did automatically, any excuse to touch him something they were both okay with.  The action pulled his thoughts only to her and while they moved forward, he turned his head slightly and placed a light kiss on the top of her head.
          She smiled, though he couldn't really see it, and nuzzled against him.  She was one of those people who could suddenly be overcome with an overflowing emotional response to the smallest actions.  Most of her moments with him always brought her happiness.  Right then, in that moment, something so simple, that light kiss, that small graze of his skin against hers, it was her version of perfection.  Not that she shied away from other encounters with him, ones that she hoped they'd be experiencing very soon and many more times throughout the evening, but the little things were what mattered the most to her: how he woke her with a gentle stroke of her cheek; the slight glance in her direction just to watch the smile appear on her face, one that he probably put there; the softest brush of elbows as they sat beside each other on the train; the tiny kisses he placed on each of the freckles along the bridge of her nose.
          When they reached her building, she led him inside, eagerly awaiting the moment when they would get to focus on one another in a much more intimate setting.  His face bore every emotion floating through him, every intention he had for her and she craved him in every way.  As the door to her apartment shut behind them, the possibilities were endless and only the two of them would ever know those sides of each other.

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