Coffee Stains And Cheating Lovers
This one’s for Starr. Sorry about the tardiness, somehow needed the much needed inspiration, which equals listening to tons of IH, some guitar playing and mind-wandering. Get me something hot from London, you. Happy Birthday! (:
Regent’s Park, London. For the first time, her gaze traveled across, scouring the place for a sense of familiarity. She felt alone, she wanted someone. “Since I’m taking a chance,” she thought to herself, “might as well do it unpredictably.” She took that much needed risk. She closed her hazel eyes, picked up some speed, and ran.
Upper Berkeley, London. He was perched on a beanbag, his warm hands callously flipping the pages of a newspaper. The coffee mug lay unnoticed on the antique glass table, a few feet away from him. His mind wandered, sauntering into the greens of Regent. He inhaled in her beauty, her auburn hair swinging as she ran past him. The fresh scent of jasmines adorned her, and so did a decent mix of bright and dark colors. Back in his apartment, he quickly ran his hand over his soft brown hair, trying his best to wish the thoughts away. He thought about the consequences of regret as he slowly cleared his masterpieces on canvas. He picked up his brushes, he was reminded of how she had used one of them to tickle his cheek the night she’d stayed over. He smiled and put it away. He straightened the covers on the couch, the strange, yet prosaic and sophisticated smell bringing back bittersweet memories. The coffee was turning cold.
Norfolk Park Avenue, London. She ambled up and down the paved road, not caring about what was going to happen, or what had been. She reminisced about him, and how he had been so congenial to someone who heightened the word ‘lonesome’ on purpose. She walked along the avenue, touching roses bleeding grass. Did it matter? She wondered if it did. It definitely did. And that was all she knew. She slowly sipped the coffee out of the white take away cup. Wrong move. Vivid images instantly flashed in her mind. “It’s never strong enough,” he chuckled, looking at the white take away cup, dripping stains on the sides. She looked at him expectantly. “Would you like some more?” he asked softly as he put her vintage coat away. She nodded, accepting hesitantly. Exhaustion climbed over her weary self as twilight fell. But she’d never let fatigue get the better of her. She glanced around the cosy room of his apartment, glimpsing the photo frames that decked the mantel piece. She looked at the warm fire. She turned to look at him, at his beautiful face and reached out for his hand. Snap back to reality. Why did it matter?! “Now, now darling, don’t kill yourself.” he laughed in her mind.
It felt like a paper cut. They knew it hurt, nonetheless as minor as it was, it needed care. Sleeping pills didn’t help. Neither did over-piling work. It rained on her parade, his coffee was never right again. It was more than just bad luck.
“Don’t lose your head. None of use were angels, and you know I love you, yeah?” she contradicted her hypocrisy. He believed the truth, or was it fake? He didn’t know. Intoxication swept over their minds, glistening in the cold sweat of guilt. “Could I have..?” he thought, black contrition replacing all reasoning. “Should I have…?” she thought, a wicked, yet innocent feeling of remorse wounding her conscience.
But they won’t know. Because they didn’t.
And of course, it’s okay.
x EdgyShark x