Take a sip ➼ pjm ✓

☕Four Warm Words☕

It dawned on him, that'd he'd never see her again, and every time he thought that, he hated himself.

For the longest period of time together, not knowing who the person across the table, it killed him slowly. He never thought he'd actually see the day when one of them would break the cycle of the routine.

It had been two weeks since he'd seen her. And he felt disappointed. Knowing that she probably had no time to sit before him and take a sip of the coffee he always bought her.

He liked her. He simply liked her presence and her caramel eyes and sparkling orbs. He missed her presence and silence.

And in the morning he felt his heart sink when he ordered one cup of coffee. One for him. And as he sat by the window, he set his warm coffee on the table, along with his newspaper. Looking out the window. Wondering where she was.

But somehow towards the afternoon, the entire week, grey and drab, the unexpected happened. As he walked down to turn the corner towards the avenue, little did he know she was on the other side of the street turning her heels just as he did.

Red eyes from staying up too late and blurry vision; senses too weak to think, collided.

And as they turned the corridor, his hands quickly settled on her shoulders as they walked right into each other, both in shock and abruptly apologizing to each other.

"Are you alright?"

He asked, hoping he didn't cause much harm.

"I'm so sorry. Yes I'm fine. I'm so very."

She sniffled, her nose feeling clogged. But she stopped sniffling when she looked up to see him.

"Oh."

She suppressed a weak smile, her voice light like a leaf.

"Hello."

He smiled back, weak as well.

He wondered where her beautiful smile fled to at the moment.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She looked at the grey clouds. Slowly, very slowly they started clearing, revealing the blue sky one drift at a time.

She sniffled scrunching her nose and staring at the sky.

"No."

She said, looking back at him.

The tears of an ocean rushing down her damp, pink cheek.

And then she lost it. She needed that someone to be there for her, the nights she asked for someone to tell her it's going to be okay.

"I didn't mean to cost you trouble."

Her hands felt taut and strained, beneath her coat.

As she was stepping aside about to past him, he stopped her with the warmth of four words that rolled off his tongue.

"I can help you."

⋘ TO BE CONTINUED ⋙