Iridescent

CHAPTER 13

It's a Sunday morning. And as I have nothing better to do, I make my way to Amy's apartment. She has become a habit now. The go-to person for all my problems.

I incessantly ring the doorbell just to annoy her and judging by the curse words I hear, I've succeeded.

"What?" she scowls.

"Hello, Amy. Good morning to you too, " I reply sarcastically.

"Whatever," she waves it off. "Why are you here?"

"I was bored at home. So I came here," I shrug and enter the house, pushing past her. She closes the door and follows me.

I make myself comfortable on the couch. She raises her eyebrows at me. "Oh, your Majesty! What would you like? Tea or coffee?" she asks, sarcasm oozing off her words.

"Coffee will do," I nod, after pretending to think. She glares at me.

"Chill lady! I was kidding. What's got your panties in a twist?"

"You interrupted my reading."

"What reading?"

She sighs. "I was thinking of having a coffee -and - novel kind of a day."

I feel guilty. "Sorry, I'll just go."

"No! Stay. It's okay."

I smile and sit back down.

Suddenly, she perks up. "Hey! We could still do it!"

"We? I don't want to read."

"Yes, you do. I'll go make coffee for both of us. You choose your book. The shelf is in my room." With that, she's gone. With the wind.

I go to her room, a little uneasy with the doubt that I may find her. . .um. . . private clothes on the bed or something, but the doubt vanishes as I open the door. The room is clean. Like, really clean.

One wall of the room is replaced by ceiling to floor windows, which opens into a balcony. Sun rays stream into the room, making it naturally bright. Another wall has been converted into a bookshelf, with so many books, of different colors, textures, and sizes, leaving two more walls, which are painted a pale yellow color. The room's got a homey feel to it.
Beside the queen sized bed, there's a nightstand, where a used coffee mug sits. On the bed, there's a laptop and a book.

I pick up the book. 'Gone With The Wind.'  I smile.

"Have you chosen your book?" Amy calls out from the kitchen.

"I will now, " I say.

I go to the bookshelf, skim past the seemingly myriad books, and finally decide on 'The Alchemist'.

I'm not exactly a fan of reading, but this is the only thing I can do before I die of boredom. I take it out, the same time Amy comes inside with two mugs of coffee. She looks at the book I've chosen and beams at me. "Good choice."

"Uh? Yeah, whatever, " I shrug it off. "Where are we going to read?"

"In the balcony," she goes and keeps the coffee mugs on the small table kept there, in front of two chairs. She sits on one of them, turns to me and asks "Hey, can you get my book as well? Thanks."

I snort but get it anyway.

The sight in front of us isn't that scenic. But it's nice to look at.

"Okay, let's begin!" Amy says enthusiastically. I roll my eyes. We begin. Well, she begins, while I reluctantly open the book and let my gaze wander on the pages, randomly taking in the words. Slowly, this gazing turns into reading, and the next thing I know, I'm flipping the pages to read the book from the start.

I start over again. This time, I read. I understand and I like it.

I like the current situation we are in. In Amy's balcony, turning the pages of a novel, occasionally sipping coffee. I like the comfortable silence we fall into. I like it. I like that I like it. I like that I like that I like it. I like-

Enough Jai.

I continue reading, Amy does the same. I look at her. She's so engrossed in the novel, it's adorable. Her eyebrows are puckered like she isn't happy with what the character of the story is doing. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, but soon it falls back on her face. She tucks it back, but to no avail. This process goes on, until she huffs and lets it be there.

I smile and read the novel. Once I start, I don't stop. I can't stop. It's too good to stop.

By the time I finish, it's late in the evening. The coffee mug is empty, so is the box of cookies Amy had brought sometime in the afternoon.

I get up, she does too.

"So? How was it?" she asks smirking. She obviously knows I enjoyed it.

"Ha, it was kinda good, " I act uninterested.

She shakes her head. "You should probably get home. It's getting late."

I nod. "Okay, bye!"

And this time when I hug her, I make sure to keep a check on my actions. I leave the apartment with a serene and content feeling in my heart.

Maybe it's Paulo Coelho. I should read his books more often.

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