| 𝟭𝟲𝘅 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗗 · [EDITORS' CHOICE -- NOVEMBER 2020] [ONC 2020 Winner] Two strangers on separate trains, divided by uncaring glass.
A bond forms between them.
But will it hold when their trains are bound for different destinations?
Evan's...
The color of her hair clashed nicely with the bordeaux of her heavy coat, but it complemented the turquoise of her lips.
Her head-dance stopped, and her eyebrows drew closer to each other, like two cute caterpillars trying to head-butt. Her gaze wasn't on me, fortunately, but on the woman facing her. She dug one of the pods from her ears and said something while pointing at the lady's lap. The window didn't reach low enough for me to see what had caught her attention there.
She stuck out her tongue at whatever lay there. Her frown stayed in place; she obviously wasn't satisfied with the result of her action.
After that, she hid her mouth behind a hand.
The color of her nails matched her hair.
Her glower returned, and she revealed her lips again. Then she bent forward, and the lady opposite moved backwards. She was probably seeking the safety of her seat, trying to maintain the gap between her and the intrusive she-stranger.
I imagined I was lucky with the sprawler next to me. At least the man did not move as much as that girl, nor try to eagerly communicate with my lap. For the time being.
Suddenly, the girl blew a raspberry, her lips vibrating in silent decompression.
A smile replaced the frown on her face. Fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes made her mirth seem genuine.
She sat back, her blooming grin growing broader and revealing a set of teeth reined in by dental braces.
That was when she noticed me watching her.
Her smile shrank—still there, but more subdued now, probing and curious. She tilted her head.
The unspoken question in her eyes made heat rise into my cheeks. It was too late to look away now. I held her gaze and shrugged, smiling back at her in a way I hoped expressed both polite apology as well as friendly amusement.
The sprawler next to me interrupted my efforts at communicating with her. He pushed his elbow into my arm as he pulled a can of Coke from the tattered backpack perching on his lap.
The woman wrinkled her nose at me.
I wrinkled mine back at her, not having a clue what we were doing there. But she smiled.
A good smile. The type that comes with dimples.
I contemplated my next move, but a sizzling noise put an end to my careful planning.
Cold liquid sprayed me from the left.
The sprawler must have opened his can.
I squinted at the man through the haze of the droplets that now sprinkled my ruined glasses. He was gulping eagerly from his can, oblivious to my demise. His Adam's apple was dancing as he swallowed sip after sip.
Was he even remotely aware of the collateral damage of his can opening? Hardly. His eyes were half-closed as he enjoyed his drink.
I wiped my face with one hand as I dug into my pockets with the other, looking for a tissue. Alas, I found nothing. I must have forgotten to bring along a fresh pack this morning. Searching for something—anything—to clean myself of the intrusive Coke, I briefly considered at least wiping my hands on the sprawler's sleeve. That would make him retreat and aid me in retaliation.
Eventually discarding the impolite thought, I looked out of the window once more, seeking her smile again. The blue-haired woman grinned, holding something in her hand, waving it at me.
I squinted at her as I tried to recognize the vaguely familiar object through my smeared glasses.
She was showing me a fresh pack of tissues.
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