Hello, you lovely and amazing readers!
First, I want to thank you all so much for over 200 reads! I can't believe it!
Second, for those of you who read my other book, "Unexpected Changes", that will be updated later this week. I'm reviewing it with a fine-toothed comb currently.
Third, I have a new book called "Little Ole Me". It's nothing special, but check it out if you have free time and leave a comment.
And last, love you all, my darlings!
Do you know how much I cherish these moments?
I don't think you do. Really, I don't.
I don't think you've caught the stares I send your way. I don't really mean to do it, honestly. I just catch myself gazing at your beautiful features often. I wish to capture those moments. My photographic memory was a curse when I was younger, but now, I treasure it. It allows me to remember every detail of you.
Currently, we're sitting in a coffee shop. It's not Starbucks, but that's okay. Starbucks is usually packed to the brim, and it being the holiday season, there's no doubt in my mind it would be bursting with life. This place is quiet. And cute. It's a simple, small layout. There's no large tables or bright artwork hanging on the walls. The wallpaper is fresh, though, and the smell of coffee fills the space effortlessly.
You're wearing a white dress shirt, which is unusual, and a pair of light blue skinny jeans that are ripped at the knees. Lately, all we've both been wearing is black. Perhaps we should stop doing that. It might be bringing our moods down. But the white goes very well with your blonde hair. It's immaculate, as always. I've been jealous of your hair more times than I care to count. It's so thick and wavy, and it falls perfectly.
That's not what really matters. I'll remember those details, undoubtedly, but it's not what's important. What is important is the way the light catches your bright blue eyes. I've never seen a color as clear as the blue of your eyes. It's amazing, really. I can gaze at them for hours and never tire.
The sun also falls across your cheekbones. Your skin is tan from our little vacation not long ago, and the sun causes it to glow. It's blinding, almost. Your beauty never ceases to amaze me.
My thoughts are interrupted. You caught me. You offer a sly smile, and I blush lightly under your attention. But, I don't look away. You cock your head, a silent question. I do nothing but continue gazing at you. You're perfect. Maybe not to others. Maybe not to yourself, but to me, you are perfection.
I finally close my eyes and breathe in deeply. The smell of coffee and sunlight softly register in my mind. There's a few people chatting a few seats away from us. It's the middle of the day, yet the café is basically deserted. I like it. It's nice. The silence is nice. The peace is nice. It's almost like time is stopped here. My thoughts of what needs to be done and what I want to do disappear. They fade away with the sound of a passing car.
When I reopen my eyes, I glance down at my own self. The coffee in my hands is warm. It's a toffee brown color with foam lying motionless on top. I raise it and take a sip. The flavor bursts against my taste buds, and I hold back a moan of delight. I set my cup down and push back a strand of my dark hair. My black nails peek out of my long sweater. It's not cold inside our little haven, but it is outside. Because of that, I was donned in a thick, orange sweater and black jeans. The outfit kept me warm, and I thought I looked cute.
Not as cute as you, but still cute. You had complimented me on it before we left the house. That was all that mattered.
"Mitch?" you ask. I basked in the way my name fell from your soft, pink lips.
I hum as a reply. I don't feel like speaking in fear of shattering the glass heaven we're in.
"Are you okay? You've been unusually silent today."
I smile. You have noticed. I appreciate that particular trait. You notice the little things. Most people overlook the small stuff. "I'm all right," I finally reply. I say it quietly.
I am happy. I don't want to ruin this moment. They were few and far between. "If you say so."
Nothing else is said. We finish our coffee and receive the check. You pay and rise to leave. I frown in disappointment. "What's wrong, Mitch?"
If we leave, our bubble will pop. The thin lining that separates us from society will break. "I like this place, Scott," I say.
"We can always come back."
"Not to this exact moment."
You offer your hand. I take it, and you carefully haul me up from my seat. "We'll return and make new memories."
I smile and lean up, kissing you. "I want you to know something."
You raise a nearly invisible eyebrow. I giggle. "I cherish these moments."
Your smile always lights up my world. "I cherish you."
And I, you.
