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he told me he would be gone for 3 days. it was 4, but that was okay. i understood he had work commitments, what they entailled? i didn't know. it must've been something exciting, though.
he arrived unannounced again, and i didn't mind. i never did, never would.
another small bouquet in his hand, blue salvia and rosemary. i think of you, rememberance.
'do i cross his mind as much as he crosses mine?' i thought. i kept this to myself, he looked tired. so, i took the bouquet in one hand, and his hand in my other. led him to my couch, and put the flowers and herbs in a vase.
he always had an eye for the most beautiful ones.
"are you hungry? i can make pasta." my voice quiet.
"pasta would be nice..." his head down, untieing his shoes. his voice sleepy, rough. my heart fluttered, i remember. he was always so soft, so gentle. the roughness was a new side, exciting.
so, i made pasta and sauce. and he read with his leg crossed, at lightning spencer speed. each page turn keeping me smiling, the comfort and familiarity. having him back again, the air back to our new normal.
i always had so many questions i wanted to ask him. springing to my mind when i was alone. but as soon as he was here, the solitude. they never felt right in those moments. so i never asked them, i just enjoyed the calm. the gentle breeze.
and when it was ready, we ate on my couch. side by side, blissful silence. sleepy, calm, quiet.
he took our bowls to the sink when we were done. quiet thank you's. thank you for your hospitality. thank you for your kindness.
he had pasta sauce on the corner of his mouth, i noticed.
"hey, spencer?" his eyes trailed to mine, brows slightly raised.
"you've got..." and then, that little voice. the angel on my shoulder. 'just do it, lore'.
so, i lifted one leg round. slowly. until i was straddled on his thighs. hovering, hips not touching.
he won't mind, i remember thinking. we're friends, that's all. he won't mind.
his hands went to my hips, holding like i was glass he didn't want to break. and his eyes, brown and so tired, but surprised.
i remember, i licked my thumb, wiped the spot away. trailed slightly on his bottom lip. and, i don't know how i mustered the courage, i kept it there. soft, barely touching, but just enough.
his eyes, lazily looking into mine, onto each freckle of my cheeks. my nose, my eyes, and then my mouth. 'he won't kiss you', all my mind would repeat. friends, that's all.
and i thought i was right, when his eyes, now darker, were back on mine.
and then, a hand leaving my waist. holding my wrist. guiding to his mouth, he moved my thumb in.
