He was peering across both laptops at her. Eyes as piercing and wired as always. "Am I one hundred percent convinced? I'm one percent convinced that it is not a good idea."
A moment of silence and slight confusion on her behalf settled momentarily over the table. What did that even mean? The wine had started to float to her head and she was feeling giddy and girly for unexplainable reasons. Although the words escaping his mouth held no comedic value and her understanding of what he was saying to her happened to stand at about "one percent", she found herself smiling. Perhaps she was smiling because she knew him so well. Or maybe she was smiling because she was finally seeing the light in all of the clutter. That famously discussed light at the end of the tunnel - maybe it did indeed exist. Such humor she managed to find in this moment that held such a muddled mix of night and day over a tabletop and two glasses of rose.
The sky was grey with rolling clouds and the overhanging doom of a much needed summer thunderstorm that would blow over and shower the sweltering city with tears before clearing for another beautiful day of sunshine lingered above them. It was getting dark. His face was lit only by the dim light of his laptop screen staring back at him. She looked at him intently while trying to disect and understand his face. Every inch of it. The way it flinched, the way it stayed completely still and the way she had known it and not known it at all. She studied the thick brown lines of hair that made up his eyebrows and their movements while wondering what they meant. They were straight and focussed as she watched them while she wrote. He glanced up, eyes shuffling towards the large lady two tables across wearing florals and a floaty blue dress. She wondered what he was thinking as the straight lines of his thick brows turned into pointy diagonal arrows to match perfectly the biting disapproval of his eyes and their gaze.
Looking back across the table, he licked his lips, then with tongue resting on his gappy teeth mocked the habits she had that he knew so well. "Chin up" he had said earlier that day, the daily advice and apparent words of wisdom for a girl who knew how to "chin up" all too well. He gave a slight nod - approving of her in some way and she wondered why she even cared at all.
He glanced over again to the plump lady two tables across. Lady Lord of Floral and Blue could tell he was listening to her conversation and judging it, as judgement was a trait he wore so well. But who was he for her to care for his judgement? With a sigh and pause from her typing, she longed to be in the shoes of the lady in blue or anyone else who would not cave in the presence of this piercing man's stare.
- b.o.s.w
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