I don't believe in coincidences--
but inspiration always come to me at the same place.
Green Tea Latte
She knows she can't do this everyday, can't keep running away. It is an afternoon of escape, brief and stolen.
"I'm going to the library," she announces, sweeping her lashes into an elaborate curve as she steps into her favourite ballet slippers. They don't ask why she is going to the library when school's out, all dressed to kill. They don't ask anything, which suits her just fine. It's one less lie, she thinks.
She only has three hours, maybe more if the rain comes (I'm stranded, will be home late) and she refuses to waste away in a library. Headphones over her ears, laptop cradled over her chest and ruby slippers on her feet, she boards the first bus that comes.
It'll be an adventure, she tells herself, convinced that today she will go distance. Freedom, love and all that liberal nonsense they teach her in history class. But in the end, liberation comes to her in a shade of Starbuck's green, just two streets away from home. It's not that she has no place to go or nobody to meet, of course not, it's just convenient.
She thinks lying to herself cannot be considered a lie and yes I'll have a Green Tea Latte please.
The cafe is packed to the brim, little islands of people bent over steaming coffee mugs. The windows are frosted, from the sudden rain or mingling breaths, she can't tell. The power sockets on the ground floor are all occupied, they shouldn't be. She forgets everyone needs extra caffeine to pull through Mondays. She heads upstairs and hopes.
And hope is relentless, even if everyone avoids her gaze. It's a universal sign for: "No, we don't do sharing, sorry." There is an empty seat at the far corner, near the rest rooms. Well, it's not exactly ideal, she admits. It is a love-seat and a tall, tan boy has taken up more than half of it but she spies a spare power point there. So, what now? She isn't sure but he meets her eye at just the right time. It is a mixture of pity and embarrassment. She doesn't ask but he makes some space for her and that was it.
A beginning.
She smiles her thanks but their eyes don't meet. She drinks in his everything. Bed-hair, dark skin, long fingers, chiseled jaw. White iPhone, Green Tea Latte, black Mac--
Oh.
On his lap is a black Macbook, too small for his lanky frame. It is a toy and he is Goliath.
On her lap is the same black Macbook, too heavy for her small hands.
On their shared coffee table, two mugs of Green Tea Lattes sit. Hers steaming and his, nearly empty. She cannot stop smiling. This isn't a coincidence, she lets it ring in her head.
He lifts his gaze, as if prompted by her surprise and she is sure he caught her staring. Her face heats up. It is a game, her adventure and even if it ends in nothing, she will still have a memory.
She slips out of her ruby slippers, careful not to put the heels together.
No Toto, it isn't time to go home yet.
Cross posted to holland_v, sister community to hajilane which I should be writing for. Looks like Nano is toast unless-- Mainey is going to kill me.
Green Tea Latte
She knows she can't do this everyday, can't keep running away. It is an afternoon of escape, brief and stolen.
"I'm going to the library," she announces, sweeping her lashes into an elaborate curve as she steps into her favourite ballet slippers. They don't ask why she is going to the library when school's out, all dressed to kill. They don't ask anything, which suits her just fine. It's one less lie, she thinks.
She only has three hours, maybe more if the rain comes (I'm stranded, will be home late) and she refuses to waste away in a library. Headphones over her ears, laptop cradled over her chest and ruby slippers on her feet, she boards the first bus that comes.
It'll be an adventure, she tells herself, convinced that today she will go distance. Freedom, love and all that liberal nonsense they teach her in history class. But in the end, liberation comes to her in a shade of Starbuck's green, just two streets away from home. It's not that she has no place to go or nobody to meet, of course not, it's just convenient.
She thinks lying to herself cannot be considered a lie and yes I'll have a Green Tea Latte please.
The cafe is packed to the brim, little islands of people bent over steaming coffee mugs. The windows are frosted, from the sudden rain or mingling breaths, she can't tell. The power sockets on the ground floor are all occupied, they shouldn't be. She forgets everyone needs extra caffeine to pull through Mondays. She heads upstairs and hopes.
And hope is relentless, even if everyone avoids her gaze. It's a universal sign for: "No, we don't do sharing, sorry." There is an empty seat at the far corner, near the rest rooms. Well, it's not exactly ideal, she admits. It is a love-seat and a tall, tan boy has taken up more than half of it but she spies a spare power point there. So, what now? She isn't sure but he meets her eye at just the right time. It is a mixture of pity and embarrassment. She doesn't ask but he makes some space for her and that was it.
A beginning.
She smiles her thanks but their eyes don't meet. She drinks in his everything. Bed-hair, dark skin, long fingers, chiseled jaw. White iPhone, Green Tea Latte, black Mac--
Oh.
On his lap is a black Macbook, too small for his lanky frame. It is a toy and he is Goliath.
On her lap is the same black Macbook, too heavy for her small hands.
On their shared coffee table, two mugs of Green Tea Lattes sit. Hers steaming and his, nearly empty. She cannot stop smiling. This isn't a coincidence, she lets it ring in her head.
He lifts his gaze, as if prompted by her surprise and she is sure he caught her staring. Her face heats up. It is a game, her adventure and even if it ends in nothing, she will still have a memory.
She slips out of her ruby slippers, careful not to put the heels together.
No Toto, it isn't time to go home yet.
Cross posted to holland_v, sister community to hajilane which I should be writing for. Looks like Nano is toast unless-- Mainey is going to kill me.