50 Days Of Grey (#Wattys2015)

{ t w e l v e } : not a thing

xii : inevitable

❝incapable of being avoided.❞

[Day 8]

I gripped the coffee mug in my hands, staring at the pure black liquid, contemplating on adding some sugar and cream. I reject the request in my mind gulping down the half filled mug and refilling it with more black liquid. It was three in the morning, and I had woken up with a start at the sound of lightning outside, bearing only three hours of sleep. I was tired, but not the kind of sleepy tired, the drunk tired. I wonder why I feel like I had drank gin instead of grape juice before I slept, when I wasn't the drunk one. You were, though, I had to carry you in, right? You don't remember though...

My fingers twitched as I took another sip of the black coffee, staring out at the cloud filled sky, the pitter pat of rain against glass the only sound there was. My gaze lingered momentarily at the sky before I braced myself against the window sill, my gaze now on you. Peaceful, you looked peaceful. I closed my eyes, and let myself sit on the floor underneath the window.

{A Moment in Time}

I burst into your room, trails of laughter still at the tip of my tongue when I saw your peaceful state. You were lying on your back, a hand under your head, earphones tucked into your ears, your other hand draped at your side, one leg up and one leg down. You looked peaceful, serene. I stood there, side against the door frame, smiling like an idiot watching you listen to music. Alexa came bounding down the hallway catching up to me and pushing me in, I stumbled causing ruckus in your room and causing you to stir.

Your eyes snapped open and you stood up, taking your earphones out, you elbow on you knee as you stared at us with questioning eyes and a bed head.

I smiled sheepishly, lifting a hand to wave at you.

You smiled back, and everything was perfect. Perfect.

~*~

I place the coffee mug on the window sill and I settle back down on the floor, closing my eyes wondering when the caffeine will set in, not realizing that the container read de-cafe.

I feel myself being shook awake. My eyes snap open and I hold my breath, my eyes meeting hazel colored ones. It was you, and your face was inches away.

"G-Get up, Julliane." You said bitterly.

I nod pushing myself up and bracing my head against my hand, a throbbing headache forming from sleeping on a cold wood floor.

You hold my coffee cup, handing it to me, "You want coffee?" I ask.

You nod shortly taking your place back on the couch.

"Could've just told me." I say rolling my eyes, going into the kitchen to turn the coffee machine back on.

I brace myself against the counter, faint images of your eyes flashing into my mind before I flush, thinking about the possibility of a kiss.

"Not going to happen, Julliane, not going to happen." I remind myself as I bring you your coffee, the way you like it, with a teaspoon of sugar and cream with a dash of vanila and cinnamon.

I sit on the opposite side of the couch as we watch some random cartoon movie, "Meet The Robinsons" and I watch as you take a sip of the coffee, a ghost of a smile forming on your lips before it turns back to a blank expression and you put it back on the table. It goes cold and you don't touch it again.

❝peace is a rarity in this household.❞