Two Hearts {H.S.}

Ch. 8

I Wouldn't Ask You by Clairo

Switchblade around my neck, don't get close to me

Ask about your life still in the nosebleeds

Having glanced at the brass rimmed clock keeping track of the small but endless infinity that was our booth chat, both Harry and I startled at seeing more than two hours had passed and I needed to still go home and prepare for work, something that he didn't have to do since it was going to be a lazy Wednesday night-- a day we rarely ever asked our band to come in and perform on.

Refusing my countless attempts to pay, Harry tossed a generous amount of bills that covered both our check and a hefty tip to the teenage girl with gorgeously purple hair and flower printed jewelry--something I hadn't been able to keep myself from complimenting earlier-- who had served us. While he wasn't looking at me, but instead giving a parting wave in appreciation to the blushing girl, I sneakily (or so I thought) quickly and subtly slipped a ten into his loose trunks pocket that protrudes from the side of his thigh.

Walking across the navy tiled floors of the cafe in direction of the door I followed closely behind Harry, watching the back of his dusty white van that rubbed a soft, worn path up the back of his sparsely haired ankle. The sound of two chimes echoed out the now open door, signifying the official end to mine and Harry's first real moment; I had no other words for it besides just that. A moment. One I would use as dream fuel for the countless restless nights surely awaiting me back at my empty apartment and in my unoccupied bed.

The cooling, humid breeze whipped around our bodies as we emerged from the small shop located on a corner in the southeast section of Beachwood Boulevard, approximately only a twelve minute walk to our workplace. However, neither of us had yet been able to rinse the stray sand granules or faint residue of thick salty waves from our freshly sunkissed skin.

We silently crossed the moderately busy street as the repetitive stream of cars finally came to a lull. Hints of birds cawing in the sky above us and quiet blares of distant honking horns were the only sounds present between our jogging figures which turned into leisure strolling when we were safe from the oncoming traffic.

Falling into step beside me despite his much longer strides, I squinted up at his face with a goofy smile before almost tripping and deciding it best to keep my attention on my own actions, not the charming hunk's to my right. Even with my gaze forward and tilted down to watch my sandal clad feet eat the cracked pavement below me, I couldn't help but notice the graceful but utterly masculine way his limbs carried himself. The sway of his broad shoulders and the slight rotation of his slim hips rooted the otherwise free-moving actions of his arms and legs that elegantly alternated like the sunlight rays shifting on the top of the rippling ocean.

Approaching his car that we had left in the nearest free parking lot, I admired the setting sun glinting off the rusting metal, creating a golden hue almost like a halo making it our holy chariot. If not for the utter class act that was the 1950's Cadillac, the juxtaposition of aging and peeling banana paint to the divine aura emanating from it would've been comical and dubious.

Once again opening my door like the utter gentleman he had so far proved himself to be, Harry stared not at the setting sun but at the reflection of it in his slightly dusty windshield. His mind seemed to be churning and distracted for the first time since we had bumped into each other hours ago. His brows creased in deep thought but not like any time before; this time I felt an uneasy wind creeping from his brain and out his ears to sift around my skin and capture me as well.