|
By Laurel Ahlfeld Date: 2008 Dec 16 Comment on this Work [[2008.12.16.20.24.21782]] |
|
"What'll you have?" I looked up carelessly to answer the same way I did every night. My pulse rushed to my head as the realization sucked the breath out of me. It was him. He'd been gone for months, since the last time I saw him walk away into a cold rainy night illuminated by the misty glow of the street lamps. I had faithfully returned to my favorite pub week after week after that, growing more and more disappointed at his absence upon each returning trip. Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that he was gone- I had missed my chance. But here he was, inches away from me. I could feel the heat of his forearm so close to mine as he leaned away from the crowded bar on our high top table. We'd never been so near before. I'd only seen him from across the bar at the very closest. He smelled of hard work and cologne, intoxicating me with every inhalation. His eyes smiled down at me. He lifted his eyebrows questioningly, wondering if I'd heard him over the band playing on stage I'm sure. My heart pounded in my ears as he leaned in closer and slid a white cocktail napkin along the wooden surface with his fingers toward me, barely missing my hands that lay paralyzed on the table. "What'll you have?" he repeated again, this time so close I could smell the spearmint gum on his breath. The familiar words stumbled over the tip of my tongue as I softly stammered, "Strongbow, please." You. I'll have you. |