AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, have a seat, I guess,” she mumbles, pulling herself onto a leather armchair and tucking her slender heels underneath her. Her knees are dimpled and firm, just teasing me with that dark void between them.
“Are those your pajamas?” I smirk as I take my place on the wide sofa that could easily accommodate both of us. Lying down.
She shrugs one shoulder. “It's my writing uniform. I didn't realize anybody would be coming over to judge me.”
“I'm not judging you. Just curious. You’re a curious creature,” I answer, sipping carefully at the tea. It's good. Yerba mate, if I'm not mistaken.
“Then why did you come over? Without texting or calling or sending me an email or sky writer or anything?”
“Gee… I would've thought that since our steamy bits have been all up inside each other I didn't have to write you a telegram in order to see your pretty face anymore,” I quip.
“Well, you do.”
/>
I look her over. She's tense. I suppose she means it. But I’m disappointed, and I let it show.
“Well, okay. I will.”
“Good.”
“Fantastic.”
“You know, you don't have to have the last word every time,” she informs me.
I start to say something, but then don't. Instead I raise my eyebrows and stare at her meaningfully until she realizes she just had the last word. So there.
Silence falls between us, uncomfortable and dense. This house, along with the other nine just like it on this block, has been here for over a hundred years. Makes you wonder how many uncomfortable silences has fallen in this very room over that time.
I look around some more, noting the pictures on the wall, the wallpaper in the dining room. She has very good taste, combining things that are sixty years old with things that are eighty or ninety years old. It's a tough look to pull off.
“How long have you lived here?”
“Nine years,” she answers.
“Oh,” I reply, letting the silence fall again.
After a few long moments, she looks up again. “I won a prize. For writing. Right after college. A big one. So I bought this place.”
“I’m impressed,” I tell her honestly. These Greystones aren’t cheap. Must have been a hell of a prize.
“Yeah, so that’s why I would like to get back to that sort of writing. You know. The good stuff, as you like to say.”
I smile, hoping she’ll smile back. “It’s what you deserve.”
But she's not moving. She hunches around her mug of tea, scowling at the top of it.
“Looks like you have got a lot on your mind. Want to talk about it?” I ask her carefully.
She looks up again at me, almost started. Then, the usual screen falls in front of her face, concealing her emotions again.
“Talk?” she repeats, as though the concept is ridiculous.
“Yeah, have a conversation. People do that.”
She shifts, finally sitting back a little bit, perhaps relaxing just a little bit.
“Are we in a talking relationship? Is that something we do?”
