You'll Come Back to Yourself

Dorothea clung onto the cardboard box as she opened the coffee shop's door. Her hands shook as she clenched the box harder. She lazily scribbled "Malaya" on the side, as if to remind herself who the box was for and what it represented. As if she'd ever forget four years.

It was quiet, just like it had been every Wednesday afternoon but it still smelled like fresh blueberry muffins and espresso.

Her monolid cognac brown eyes searched the room for Malaya. When she saw her her mouth almost dropped. She had cut her hair. What once was long strawberry blonde hair had turned into a mahogany wolf cut. If those sapphire eyes didn't sharpen when Dorothea entered the room she probably wouldn't have been able to recognize Malaya.

She looks so beautiful, Dorothea thought to herself.

She told herself to focus. This wasn't the opportunity to win Malaya back. Instead, this was to prove she was doing fine on her own. Right before Malaya left Dorothea's apartment she called her lonely.

"You only want to be with me because you can't stand the thought of being alone. The only reason you're still with me is because I haven't ended it yet!" The words still stung and caused a sour taste on her tongue.

Breathe, Dorothea told herself as she attempted to boldly stride over to Malaya.

She set the box on the table Malaya had chosen and sat down in the chair. She had a plain black coffee for herself. The matcha latte she ordered for Dorothea.

She knew every little thing about me. She knew my hopes, my dreams, my go to coffee order, Dorothea thought as she tried to comfortably adjust herself in the chair.

This coffee shop needed new chairs. They were made of iron painted white, the bottom a white wicker. Almost every one of them had some sort of stain. Maybe, it would have been fine if they were at least comfortable.

"Dorothea," Malaya had nodded, "Thank you for returning my items."

Dorothea slightly nodded, barely acknowledging what Malaya was saying. Malaya grabbed the box and opened it, making sure everything was in there. Her books, her clothes, her pillows and her notebook - especially her notebook. As she rummaged through the box Dorothea studied Malaya.

Her light beige skin appeared softer and clearer. She must be taking care of herself. Dorothea wanted to touch her hands, feel how soft they were, kiss her knuckles which used to always be so cracked she'd have to moisturize them as Malaya slept. Now, they were perfect; perfect now that Dorothea was no longer in her life.

"What's on your mind Thea?" Malaya had asked.

Thea Dorothea couldn't remember the last time Malaya had called her that.

She couldn't remember the last time she said it so lovingly, so thoughtfully. The last time she could think was when they were at the movies, almost more than a year ago. Malaya had whispered it to her when the main characters had kissed. Malaya's neck pressed against Dorothea's temple.

"I love you, Thea." She whispered as she kissed her.

They broke up two weeks ago and the memory still felt like acid to the heart for Dorothea.

"Nothing... Mal," she looked up at her doll shaped eyes.

Dorothea was testing Malaya and Malaya knew it. Dorothea was trying to see if there was anything left but Malaya knew there wasn't and made sure to keep a straight face when her nickname was said.

"I've just been thinking..." Dorothea instantly looked away.

She took Malaya's unchanged facial expression as a sign of boredom but Dorothea needed to know what had happened between them.