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Millionaires

Millionaires (Based on the song by The Script)

They're kicking us out, saying it's time to close.

        We part from each other, and when I look at her, she's beautiful. Her blonde hair is matted with sweat against her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed from energy and happiness. She parts her gaze from mine and looks at the bartender that's mopping up the tables. "Thanks," she says to him, and just watching her smiles bring me a feeling of content.

        We walk to the table we once occupied and she asks me to carry her heels. "But you'll be barefoot," I say, trying to rationalize her decision, but she just shrugs and says, "C'mon - before it snows!"

        I wait a second and watch her tip-toe to the door, hopping over beer puddles and recent droppings of gum. I shake my head at her train of thoughts, disbelieving how she's going to be walking barefoot in below-freezing weather.

        When she turns around to see if I'm following her, I hurriedly scoop up her heels from the tainted floors and rush to her side. "Thanks again," I call behind us to the exhausted emplyee, and then grab the metal handle to open the door for her.

        When she steps out into the empty street, I watch as she curls into herself in an attempt to shield herself from the wind. Without thinking, I shrug off my coat and gently lay it atop her shoulders, and she rushes t slide her arms through the sleeves and wraps it tight around her torso.

        "What your shoes?" I ask, but she just gives me a look.

        "I'd rather catch pneumonia than put on Satan's handmade shoes," she sighs, a ghost forming in front of her. A laugh escapes me and she giggles.

        We stand there for a second, her mind thinking who-knows-what, and my mind racing for and old excuse for us not to go. I don't think either one of us want to take that taxi home.

        "So," I whisper. "Want to go to my house?" I motion to the apartment complex a few doors down, and when she doesn't reply, my heart stops briefly.

        But then she looks up at me with shining eyes, and says the two words I've been waiting for: "Race you!"

        She runs away, giggling, and I laugh as I chase after her.

        And right then, I swear, we were millionaires.