Unrequited love

One | Katie

Walking into the kitchen I stretch my arms out, yawning. I glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, "six forty" I mutter under my breath.

I grab a piece of bread from the dispenser before putting it in the toaster. My mother bought the dispenser saying it would be a 'game changer' and I had laughed at her for it. Now now I find myself using it more than anyone else in this house.

Leaning my arms down onto the kitchen island waiting for my toast, a hand reaches over my shoulder. Watching as they put two pieces of bread into the toaster. They gently push down the metal handle in one movement. Trailing my eyes up the arm I follow the tense veins before reaching their eyes, which are well above mine.

"Morning." Colten speaks with a post sleep, rasp. He must've just woke up. That makes the two of us.

As cliche as it sounds I've known Colton since we where kids. That being said I can't help but struggle to breath through the awkward energy that always follows when we're alone. Has it always been this bad or has it been getting worse? To be fair, he only really knows me through my brother anyways. Colton grew up with him not me. I just happen to be his best friends little sister.

He met my brother, Damon, at a basketball club when they were seven and they have been inseparable ever since. I eventually met him once he started coming over to hangout with my brother after basketball practice, but we never really talked and always passed each other in the hallways as if we didn't know each other. As if he wasn't walking around in my house.

"Morning..." I'm surprised he acknowledged me at all. Usually he comes down and he goes to the fridge whilst I focus on my own breakfast. Wordlessly grabbing enough for him and Damon he retread back upstairs. This is different.

Grabbing my toast, I quickly put it onto a plate to avoid burning myself before reaching for the strawberry jam and opening it. Slowly spreading it across my toast with a butter knife I can't help but feel him staring at me. I don't ask about it through. It's not like we're incapable of interaction. There are times we do hold conversations. All of which consist of him poking at me to annoy Damon. Otherwise I don't exist to him.

He doesn't stay for long as his toast finishes soon after mine. Carelessly he grabs them both with his bare hands not reacting to how hot they are before making his way back upstairs. Wondering if it hurt him I don't think on it for too long. Once he's disappeared I pick up my plate and head to the living room couch. Deciding to sit on the ground in front of it, I cross my legs, before gently putting my plate onto the glass coffee table.

It's usually colder in the mornings out here. Living in  Wisconsin is pretty hellish for me. Especially since I've never really been a fan of the cold. It's a counterproductive thought since I love Christmas.  Letting out a breath I trail my thumb up the leg of the coffee table.

Staring at the gold laced design that loops around into a straight spiral pattern I move my hand up until I reach the sharp corner of the table. I've always liked to touch the legs as the bumpy design always left me with a tingle up my arm. It was another one of my mothers random purchases. She bought it for barely twenty dollars only to find out it was real gold. Since it's laced on all the legs, she got it appraised and it's supposed to be roughly three hundred. Sometimes I wonder where she finds these things.