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Actually, both would really be great.
“Who was that?” Hunter asks while watching Lauren swerve around a group of people. “I know her from somewhere.”
I nod. “That’s Lauren. You know her.”
Hunter shrugs and faces me, taking my hand and lacing his fingers with mine. He leads me through the courtyard, towards a street filled with shops and cafes. “How was your first day of work?” He asks while taking me towards a cafe with several chairs sitting outside. My nose wrinkles when we pass several men smoking cigarettes while drinking their espresso and I’m happy when we’re able to find a small table with two seats near the back of the outdoor seating.
“Absolutely terrible,” I say while dumping my body into the metal chair. I take off my shoes, not caring if it’s sanitary or if it will offend anyone. I can’t have these heels on my feet any longer. Not when I know I will have to walk in them towards the metro.
Hunter leans towards me, brushing my hair behind my ear and staring back at me with such adoration in his eyes. I lean into his touch, placing my hand against his. “Tell me all about it,” he says softly.
I groan and pull away. “I don’t want to obsess about it.” I sigh and look around, wondering where the waiter is. “Also, I don’t want to complain. I’m sure it will get better after some time. I’m just… adjusting.”
A waiter comes out of the main restaurant and I stare at him, willing him to meet my gaze and come over to deliver me the sumptuous goodness of coffee. I watch his eyes lift and when they meet mine, he immediately returns inside the cafe. My hands fist and I breathe in deeply, telling myself to be patient. All good things will come in time.
“How was your day?” I ask while staring at the cafe’s doors unblinkingly, silently begging the waiter to return and take my order.
Hunter shrugs. “I didn’t really do much. Met with Dr. Forrester this morning, went on a run with Seth.”
My brows furrow and I glance at Hunter, wondering why he would ever want to join Seth on a run. “Why did you do that?” I ask, unable to hold myself back. “Were you wanting to be tortured?”
Hunter laughs and I find my foul mood drifting away. I watch him run his fingers through his hair. He looks better than before; clean, with more color in his face. His arms and chest are thicker than before, but not as thick as he used to be. I can tell he’s improving, andit makes me feel like things are going back to what they once were.
Of course, things will always be different, but I like this new Hunter.
“Dr. Forrester told me to try new things, get new hobbies so I can find a routine here.”
I clap my hands together, excitement making me giddy. “You should try an art class.”
I watch Hunter’s nose scrunch upwards and he shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think that’s for me.”
I roll my eyes. “Because you haven’t tried it, yet.”
“Why try it when I know I’m going to suck?”
I grab his hand and pull him towards me. “Just try it. So what if yousuck?It will give you something to do. You can learn about the artists. Check out the museums.”
Hunter nods, yet I can tell he isn’t interested.
“It will give you something to do and something for us to talk about.”
A light glimmers in Hunter’s eye and I can see that there is some intrigue. Perhaps he likes knowing we will have something in common if he takes an art class.
“I don’t know,” Hunter says awkwardly while rubbing the back of his. “I still think I’ll be terrible. I’m not good at… much. I’m not good with my hands.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “I completely disagree.”
Hunter tosses back his head and laughs, covering his mouth with one hand. I turn, catching the gaze of the waiter and raise my hand while Hunter tries to control his giggles.
“Yes, what can I get you?” The waiter says in a thick accent.
“Two very large coffees,” I say. The waiter doesn’t write down my order, but I figureit'sjustcoffee. What’s the point in wasting paper?
“Anyway,” I continue, “I think it would be good for you. It’s something new, like your therapist wants. And, art can help you convey your feelings.”
Hunter makes a face. “I don’t like feelings.”
“I know.” I pat his hand. “But you can’t keep everything bottled up inside forever. Or else it will explode into a huge, goopy mess neither of us want to clean up.”
