I fell in love with a homeless man whose eyes were as kind as they were blue and whose words were as sweet as sugar; whispered to me through cracked lips begging for moisture's delicate kiss.
His hair was a chocolate color, ratted and dirty and his clothes were no better. I could see the faint hint of a Dollar General shopping bag in his shoe and it pained me that he had to suffer though so much.
He sat by my apartment building with his usual miniscule bag and a face that told stories within the scars and the bruises.
I've talked to him twice, making a fool of myself both times. First knocking his bag down then somehow ripping his coat. And though he continued to insist that it was nothing I wound up giving him my own.
On a painfully cold day, there he sat on the steps to the apartment building. His arms were around himself and a blanket of snow was wrapped around his trembling shoulders. Why he sat there was beyond me. I was almost sure the manager would let him loiter in the lounge room to warm up.
"Hey," I called loudly, then repeating myself in a more soft tone after clearing my throat, digging my face into my scarf from the embarrassment.
He looks up, surprised. Then a smile spread to his face and despite the cold I felt warm.
"W-Well, well... if it isn't Mr. Clumsy hims-self..." He teased kindly. I blushed, blaming the cold.
"Why don't you come inside? I'll make us some hot cocoa.." I kicked snow from the concrete stairs and nodded to the doorway.
"I co-couldn't..." He said and the way his body shivered against the cold made me feel less warm and more afraid he'd catch pneumonia, "I'd hate to be in the way."
"You wouldn't be!" I insisted quickly, stuffing my hands in my pockets, fingers lacing around my keys. "Just... come inside. You can take a shower and stuff..."
"Are you saying I-I stink?"
"N-No! That's not--" I exclaimed, cut of by his laughter and once again I felt warm. I buried my face into my scarf once more, pursing my lips. "Let's just go..."
With reluctance, he stood. I reached out to help but he shook me off, seemingly annoyed by my effort to help.
"I'm homeless, not disabled." He said coldly. I flinched and looked away, mutterings a sorry and trying to ignore the way his features showed regret. He was a prideful man, I knew that much. Stubborn, too.
"Which room?" He asked as we stepped from the elevator and into the dingy hallway, a light blinking threatening to go out anytime soon.
"3F." I answered, watching my feet pad their way across the filthy carpets. I pulled my keys from my coat pocket and shoved it into the hole, twisting then pushing the door open with visible effort. The door has been jammed and difficult to open for a while now, and though the apartment manager promises she'll repair it I find myself not believing it.
"You can set your things anywhere," I offered with a smile, unraveling the scarf from my neck and peeling my coat off, "I'll make that hot cocoa for you."
He nodded and set his things down as I moved towards the kitchen, nearly slipping on the tile floors due to my socks. I glanced back to see if he had seen and by the amused smirk he was sporting, he had. I mentally kicked myself and advanced on.
"You have a nice home...uhm..."
"It's Hope," I filled in, pouring the hot water into two mugs and ripping open the Nestle hot cocoa packets.
"Hope..." he repeated, as if trying to figure why a boy was named Hope in the first place, "I'm Markus."
I stirred his cocoa with a soft smile. Markus. I like it.
"Here's your cocoa," I said after a silent minute. He took it happily and pulled the spoon from the cup. I did the same, placing it in my mouth and licking the extra cocoa from it.
"So, would you like me to get the shower set up for you?" I asked, pulling the spoon from my mouth. He looked away and sipped at his drink.
"If... it wouldn't be any trouble."
"It'd be no trouble at all." I smiled warmly, catching his eyes move towards me once more, captivating me with their icy blue color.
"Hope?" Markus called, cocking a brow in the air. I blinked and shot up, nearly spilling my drink in the process. Oh god, I was staring.
"U-Uhm, I'll go get the shower ready!" I blurted and staggered to my room where the bathroom (well, the decently working one) was located. I twisted the handle with shakey hands and gave it a little wiggle before the water actually began to stream. "Do you have a tooth brush?" I called. I heard a faint "no" and plucked a spare from the cabinet, striding back into the room.
"I put a toothbrush on the counter for you and the towels are in the cabinet." He nodded and stood. I took his cup with a smile but when he didn't release I glanced up.
"Thank you." He said softly, almost as if he were scared he'd spook me.
"I-It's no big deal..." I mumbled and finally his grip loosened enough to allow me to take his empty mug.
He nodded and strolled towards my room, shutting the bathroom door behind him.
I blew out a sigh, placing a hand over my beating heart. Jesus fùck. Quickly, I grabbed the other mug and set them into the sink before beginning to make dinner.
