Elizabeth lazily rolled out of her warm bed, thankful that it was Sunday, which meant she didn't have work. Her feet settled onto the soft carpet of her bedroom, and she stood slowly, taking her time to stretch. As she lifted her arms, her thin, white tee shirt rose up her middle slightly, and the cold air from her open window caused goosebumps to rise all over her pale skin. Living in London definitely had its perks, but the constant cold temeratures and gloomy weather were not on the list of pros.
Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Elizabeth wandered into her small kitchen. She turned on the Keurig coffee maker her mother had sent her as a housewarming gift; something she'd put to great use. While waiting for the water to heat up, she tied her too-long, dark curls into a bun on top of her head, a few strands falling into her face. Elizabeth brushed them aside as she added cream and sugar to her coffee, stirring it to just the right color of caramel. After, she shuffled toward the narrow balcony off of her living room, opening the sliding doors and stepping outside.
Being on the third floor of her apartment building, just about everything around her was visible. The railing on which she rested her forearms was painted black, chipping slightly in a few places. Varying stones made up the ground, slick from the previous night's rain, and a few puddles sat in the small crevices and dips of the stone, colored grey from the sky's reflection. Each building was slightly different; the one directly across from Elizabeth's was paved brown tiles, and the one next to that was plain white. In some windows there were plants on the windowsill; others with a larger balcony had wedged in a small table and a couple of chairs. Even though the complex seemed very similar and close together, she liked that there were a few touches of individuality among it.
In the window directly across from Elizabeth's, she could see stacks of boxes, and she wondered if she had a new neighbor. If so, she'd have to remember to stop by soon and welcome them to the area. Maybe she'd even bring cookies over, if she felt up for baking them.
Elizabeth swirled her coffee around in her mug, watching as her reflection in the drink became distorted. Raising the cup to her lips, she closed her eyes in content as the hot, creamy liquid slid down her throat, warming her insides. It was mornings like these that Elizabeth wished she had a roommate, someone she could share this little piece of perfection with. But at the same time, she loved being able to relax out here by herself, undisturbed, and take it all in, in silence.
Elizabeth sneezed (winter was cold season), causing her arm to jerk, which then resulted in about half of her coffee sloshing over the brim of her mug. When she didn't hear the liquid splash onto the ground like she expected a few seconds later, she leaned over the railing, surprised to find a man standing directly below her. His grey jacket was stained with brown, which Elizabeth assumed to be her coffee. Shocked at what she had done, the hand that wasn't clutching the mug flew to her mouth, staring wide-eyed at the man. He looked up at her, a sort of amused expression in his gray-blue eyes.
"Is there a particular reason you decided to pour your coffee on me?" He called, running his fingers through is light brown curls.
Elizabeth removed her hand from her mouth. "I am so, so sorry!" she exlaimed. "It was an accident, I-"
"No worries," He assured her with a beautiful smile. "Wrong place at the wrong time, is all."
"Sorry," She said again, but he only waved it off with a chuckle.
"It's alright," He said. With another grin, he continued on his way. And while Elizabeth expected him to continue walking, he turned right, and entered the door of the apartment building across from hers. She watched in awe as his figure vanished for a few moments, until he reappeared in the room with the boxes - directly across from Elizabeth.
Dedicated to mizzpuppeteer because she has given me some very kind words recently and her support has really helped me find some motivation to write.
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