Love, Poetry, & Coffee

~ 44 ~

"Do you really think that's necessary?" I somehow raise my voice just to break through her laughter. We've already cleaned up most of the papers lying around, and it was like entering a new apartment. I still couldn't believe we've clean out all the paper trash within 5 hours. Now, we're sitting on the couch in the common room, our eyes are focusing on the piece of paper on the coffee table in front of us. We've decided to write a letter back to my parents, and now Constance is suggesting that I'll mention her in the letter.

"Come on, it wouldn't hurt anyone." It will indeed hurt someone-more like something-this piece of paper will feel heavy with more words I put in it. Yeah, I'm a person who cares about inanimate object, why else did I brought Jeremy home? "Don't tell me you're embarrassed on mentioning me to your parents?"

Why must she have to state the obvious out loud? Luckily, it's just the two of us in here, but if there was a ghost haunting around my apartment, hearing this conversation right now, I have a feeling that ghost will silently judge me. "I'm not embarrassed," I was about to pick up the pen and decided to write her name, but I've stopped myself before even touching the tip of the pen on the paper.

"Fine, I won't force you to do something you're not comfortable at." She raises her hands in surrender, but the wide grin is still in her face. The childish urge to suddenly write a single line on her face is strong, luckily, I've contained myself for doing it.

I pick up the letter and try to find an unused envelope inside one of the drawers under the TV. Once I've found some, I made a mental note that I have to restock my envelopes. Perhaps I'll do that tomorrow, with Constance. Returning to my place on the couch, I've delicately and carefully place the folded letter inside the envelope.

"For someone who has big hands, you're quite delicate on your action," I hear Constance mutter, and I can't help but to notice how genuine her compliment sounds.

"For someone who's mischievous all the time, you make a simple compliment sound so genuine." A laughter coming from her burst right into my ears and I can feel myself smile for making her laugh like that. Once I've finally put the letter inside the envelope, Constance hands me the stapler-the same stapler that she's been playing with. When I say playing, I mean she's been stapling her clothes on the coffee table and pretends to get stuck. She's like a child who first discovered her parents' stapler. "Now you have small little holes on your clothes," It sounds like I'm gently scolding a child. I wonder why her parents didn't name her Mabel. She seems to have the same childish personality as Mabel Pines.

She stares down at the consequences of her action and shrug it off like it's nothing. "Eh, I don't care about the state of my clothes," She waves a dismissive hand in the air. If there was a ghost in front of her, it would have felt hurt from that gentle slap. But I just remembered people can't touch ghost? Or can they? I don't know, there are too many lore about ghost that I don't even know which one is real and which one did Sam and Dean uses. Damn, I've been referencing a lot of childhood TV shows that I can't focus on stapling the envelope close. "Besides, it's just small holes, no one will notice them. Unless that, someone has some kind of obsession at me, and have this addictive nature to notice even the smallest things about me."

Thinking about someone being too obsessive about me seems to have sent chills down my spine, or perhaps a ghost just passed through me. Okay, enough about the Casper the friendly ghost that may or may not be in my apartment, but the point is, how come Constance sounds too calm about that. As if she doesn't have the energy to even care if someone is obsessed about her, like she has something else she's more worried about.

"Are you going to keep holding the stapler or are you going to staple the envelope?" A hint of chuckle can be heard in between her words, and I find myself feeling stupid since I can literally see myself sitting on the couch with a stapler in hand. I don't like how I keep on distracting myself with my own thoughts, but the sound of Constance's laughter gives me enough motivation to persevere on the simplest task of stapling the frickin' envelope. See, I didn't swear, I can control it.