The Lady at the bar (2)

November 20, 2014


She withdrew her head from out of the window frame and carefully wound up the glass so she could cut the noise of the outside out and turned towards him to face him squarely.

– I know you are ignoring me, she said

He looked at her briefly before focusing his attention on the road again.

– No I am not, he replied curtly

He could feel that familiar welling in his heart again as he gazed at her face from behind the dark shades that thankfully covered his eyes completely. He took in the keen eyes with their hidden laughter and the childish pout she had when she was upset about something. Damn her, he thought to himself while looking back to the road again. She was not really beautiful but there was something about her that he had not figured out yet that messed with his head and heart in a way none other had done before. He thought about the night before and how much passion had been in the air, shared between them and could simply not figure out why it was that they had fought just the morning after that. It seemed to be the only way possible between them: crazy bouts of passion followed by periods of sulking.

She too turned back to face the road stonily as it seemed he would be undeterred this morning. Very soon though, she felt more than she could see his body relax and his gaze come back towards her.

– I am sorry, she said as she put a hand on his thigh. I really don’t know why we fight. It seems like each of us absolutely wants to be right and does not care about what the other is saying. We simply want to make a point.

He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing it before he put it back where it had been and she stroked his thigh absent mindedly

– I really try not to fight with you, you know. It’s just something about the way you say things that makes me want to find something wrong in them.

He said nothing but just lay his hand on the nape of her neck and as she relaxed, easing herself closer to him with her face turned upwards looking at him, he gazed out of the window and thought that it really did not matter why they had fought or whether they would fight again as long as they could make up like last night. He smiled wryly to himself realising that she had won again in their battle of wits and that he would just have to take in the beauty of this moment until things changed again.

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