Sunday, July 27, 2014

Day 15: Old white couch

He was sitting in the coffee shop, whiling away his time before a bus, on the old white couch in the middle of the room.

She walked in, confidently looking around, catching his fleeting gaze and introducing herself.

He sprang up from the couch, admiring her glasses, respecting her headscarf.

She led him to the counter, making him feel at ease, laughing about how coffee was the wrong beverage for her.

It was sweet and awkward.
Them talking carefully, asking deliberate considerate questions. Their voices clear. Their eyes flitting around. Their posture stiff, each one at opposite ends of the couch.

It was slow and engaging.
Them leaning forward. Talking about what they were doing. Getting comfortable on the couch. Their minds becoming unrestrained. Their voices getting lower.

It was unexpected and passionate.
Them accidentally brushing against each other. Losing themselves in the realm of hopes and dreams. Their gaze not leaving the other.

It was sudden and magical.
Them leaving the couch together, bus forgotten. Plans made for a future together.

It was meant to be.