izaz67
There was something wonderful about discovering the true ease with which they could sit across from each other at a coffee shop and talk about nothing and everything while the hours swam lazily by. She had never imagined it might come to fruition, that her inexplicable crush would manifest itself into something so sweet and so seemingly...perfect.
It was more than she deserved, she knew that. The dark purple fabric of the skirt swished as she twirled for herself in the mirror, the light of the reflective fibers scintillatingly beautiful.
Her aunt must have spent a thousand dollars on this piece of textile art...
The radius of the circle was a whole number, making the problem simple enough for an Algebra 1 student. I glanced up from my test, suspicious, to steal a quick glance at my teacher. I wanted to see if he was testing me on something other than formulas from middle school math classes--was it a trick question? He looked perfectly innocent, so I returned to frowning at problem number 9.
The silvery cutlery gleamed in the light from the setting sun, making the sparkling place settings look glitzy and prepared for the next afternoon's event. But right now, every table was empty but for the anticipatory forks and napkins folded into graceful swans.
I allowed myself to sink into him and focus on the feeling. I turned away all of the memories and awkwardness and that strange feeling of kissing someone you never thought you would. I let myself feel safe around him in a way that was completely new, even though we'd known each other so long.
I looked down at his socks, which were of course covered in a sea turtle print.
"It's Turtle Tuesday!" he exclaimed as he noticed me looking.
Of all things to consistently remember or forget...he never missed a Turtle Tuesday with those ridiculous socks.
"I'm just delighted to meet you!" she exclaimed, pumping my hand and never breaking eye contact. I was happy to have made such a good impression already.
"You'll start Monday, if that's all right with you?" She tacks on the question at the end of her statement in a way that makes me feel like she's not used to being so assertive.
She declined politely the first few times, and managed a tight little smile.
By the fifth try, she was starting to become annoyed at her suitors.
"Let me buy you a drink!" They all said the same thing...
She stood at the forefront of the crowd, scanning anxiously across the room for the one person she was hoping to see, while admonishing herself for that same hope.
There was no way he would be here...but he knew that she would be, and so therefore there was a way. A small way...
HIS HAIR WAS THE COLOR OF LEMONS (cries because The Book Thief)
This wasn't an original piece of writing, but now I'm having writer's feelings and cannot articulate properly.
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writing since 2012 · 26 entries · 26 days shown up
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