Unknown to the Person I Am

Her

She looks up and sees a face, skin that was kissed by the sun, ruby red lips, brown eyes with specks of gold in them. She would have described her hair, but it was covered with red silk that left a trail of white sparks at her shoulder. She just stares at this beauty unsure and in fear of what to say back. She slowly takes out her earbuds and the beauty looks at her and smiles. "May I sit with you?"

She nods her head in agreement and watches the beauty pull the chair and sit across from her. She takes a gulp as the beauty asks to look at her notebook. Again she nods her head and lets the beauty take it. She watches her look at it with awe. Anxiety rises in her, wanting to speak, but scared to open her mouth. Twists in her stomach making her want to lay down and take deep breaths. Her hand sweating, "What's your name?" She ask, but it came out more as a scream instead of a whisper. Her world falls silent after that and she calms down. Her cheeks turn a bright red of embarrassment and she looks down.

But she feels a touch on her arm. A human touch and she look up to see her smiling a gentle smile. "Azmia is my name. Now what do people call you?"

I give her a weak smile and put my hands up on the table, thinking Azmia would let go. She does for a second, but moves her hand into the palm of mines. She doesn't touch it as a whole, but her fingers lightly touch mines. I feel the knots in my stomach almost forgetting she asked me a question. I lick my lips trying to make sure I don't stumble on speaking. 

"My name is Aadya." She looks at Azmia and feels her hand on her palm, "What a beautiful name." Aadya flushes in embarrassment, but she mumbles a thank you. She glances at her notebook, "Why did you say it was beautiful?"

"The notebook?"

Aadya nods her head.

Azmia smiles, "Because it's natural. Look at the way the coffee hit the paper and taking its form onto its new environment. It seeps like a river on new land."

I look at her blankly, "It's a stain. An unnatural stain on my perfect paper."

"Aadya," Azmia says, which gave Aadya shivers down her spine hearing her name from her lips. "The coffee is more natural than the paper, the paper come from a tree, but is stripped of its naturalness to be put in artificial binding to please us." She takes a pause and then shows me the stained paper, "Now this may look like a stain to you, which is fine, but really it's not this splatter can represent chaos in our world and how it travels, it can represent that you write with coffee so it is a nature to see the two things you do be one and lastly it can be a memory for now when you see this stain you will remember this conversation you are having with me." She looks right into my eyes and I gulp, "It is only a stain if you say it is a stain. It is only ugly if you say it is ugly." She closes the notebook and gives it back to Aadya. 

Azmia's phone buzzes, "Excuse me," she says as she gets up to answer it.

Aadya watches her pace away. She then opens her notebook and looks at the stain. She touches it gently unlike the first encounter. It trailed among the paper cover a good quarter of the paper. It lost his color and now it's more of a faded brown trail, almost like the old paper that treasure maps were made of. The more Aadya looks at the stain the less it looks like a stain, but more as a new creation, a painting that was meant for this paper. Maybe with the right perspective everything is beautiful.

Azmia comes back, "Aadya I have to go, but it was lovely meeting you." She extends her hand out to Aadya. 

Aadya slowly stands up and takes the hand, "It was nice to meet you too." They shake, but their hands linger a few seconds more, before Aadya pulls it away.

"Do you come here often?" Azmia asks.

Aadya nods her head. 

"Good," Azmia replies, "I'll see you soon Aadya," and she leaves. Leaving Aadya to ponder in her thoughts alone.