SHORT STORIES

fruity milk

[WARNING: STEAMY AND WILD THEMES AHEAD.]

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I ran into Mark last week in Whole Foods. (I know, I never go there, but I really liked the Burt's Bees lip balm and I was hoping to get a different flavour than my usual pomegranate).

So, Mark. He looked tired but fresher than I was used to seeing him. He wasn't shaving so there was a beard growing, but he looked good. He told me about his new girlfriend, Sarah, and how she's a photographer in NYU - same old weirdo, Mark, trying to get the young ones, even if he's only 25. He also got into painting and is taking art classes every Thursday. We agreed to catch up for coffee sometime.

I guess some time came soon because here I am dressing in my classic green dress, with Juliet sleeves - the fabric sheer, small daisies scattered all over the dress. Its skirt reaches mid-thigh so there is just enough leg space. I put on clear lip gloss and as I put on my mascara I watch my face. I look really pretty.

Mental reminder: It's not a date.

I pick up my air force ones - because it's not a date - and slide my feet in. I whip my head to the clock - it's 9:15! Shit.

I drive and drive. Why the fuck is it so far?

The restaurant is so fancy! The walls are made of mahogany, walls coated with a shine adhesive that makes the surface look smooth. The floor is a grey marble and if you could see it any closer, there are tiny golden flakes scattered around.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, it's Mark.

He looks really good. He's wearing a suit, but it looks a little worn out - so I guess he's just ended work, his tie discarded and the top of his white shirt unbuttoned. The only difference is that he got a sharper haircut and shaved his growing beard.

"Hey." He says, his voice slightly husky, I look over his shoulder and watch his Uber leave - I guess he just woke up. My eyes also linger around to see if he brought anyone.

"Hi," I mumble. My eyes travel back to his face, his eyes twinkle with mischief.

I look at him confused as he comes to a step closer, snaking his arm around my waist.

"Where's Sarah?" I wish I didn't think of asking, but I had to ask. He was basically going on a date with his ex. It's fucking weird. If I were her, I'd slap Mark for even asking me to go with him. But it is partially my fault: I look way too good for this to be casual.

I watched as his eyes grew cold and dark, his arm dropping from my waist and his mischievous smirk gone. This made me even more confused.

"Mark-"

"She's not coming," he whispers. And walks to - what I think is - our table. The waiter pulls the chair out for me and I scoff. But I still sit down across from him and pick up the menu. As if time were to move faster - it did - I look back up and see him eating his food quietly. I look down at my prime New York Sirloin steak and gulp.

I can't believe I starved myself before, but I am so glad he got me this. Honestly, once I placed that steak in my mouth, the whole world disappeared and I was really drowning. The flavours melted in my mouth, the steak oozed out its juices in my mouth and I moaned. But I didn't care, this was so good.

Once I finished, I looked up and watched him watch me. Oo...creep.

I sort of blushed. He's never seen me like this before. Our relationship was really almost always physical and we never really got up to the point of sitting down and talking about clouds. Or even if it had, we'd always just end the night with us tangled in his sheets.