Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Chapter Ten
Emanuel
I wake early the next morning to the sound of Wren’s alarm. It causes my head to ache, a telltale sign of a hangover. In spite of the pain, however, I find myself smiling before my eyes even open. Last night had been just what the doctor ordered. We went down to one of those arcade bars and had countless beers as we played skee-ball, Street Fighter II, Galactica, and Mario Kart. We stumbled our way back to her place while eating slices of overly greasy pizza while laughing and joking. After falling into her bed, we fooled around and had sex until our bodies gave out. It all came back to me in fantastic little waves.
She’s groaning as she silences her alarm. I roll over and drape an arm over her. “Do you have coffee?” I ask in a croak. Wren sighs and nods, though I can only tell based upon feeling instead of sight. “How do you take yours?”
“Lots of cream, no sugar,” Wren answers as she yawns.
“On it,” I smile, kissing her cheek.
We both sit up and she cuts on a lamp. After adjusting to the light I get up and make my way into the kitchen. Wren’s done well for herself, I can tell based upon the apartment. Not only is it in the heart of downtown, but it’s sleek, modern, and has a massive window in the living room that gives her a view of the river and the city.
After rummaging around a little, I find everything I need to make us some coffee. Of course, she only has a pour-over set up, which I can’t help but find kind of cute? She likes cheap beer and pizza, but has specialty coffee beans that she grinds herself, and takes the time to make it herself instead of using a machine. My mind fixates on this aspect of her, wondering what all it says about her as I make enough coffee for two tumblers.
A heavy pour of cream in hers, a couple spoons of sugar in mine, I set them on the counter before moving back to the room to dress myself. I find her putting her jewelry on, already showered and dressed for the day. “Pantsuits suit you,” I comment as I slide on my sweatpants.
She’s wearing a pair of high-waisted, forest-green dress pants and a white blouse that’s tucked into the waistband. Her auburn hair is pulled up into a sleek bun, her makeup subtly applied. It looks like she could run the city, honestly. She smiles at me in the reflection of her bedroom mirror. “Thank you. Sorry we had to get up so early.”
“No worries,” I reply, returning the expression with a soft smile of my own. Honestly, I didn’t mind at all, as she had explained to me that she needed to get to work early that day. Something about how eagerly I had awakened before the sun with a smile on my face even if I was hungover and sleep deprived, put into perspective for me just how smitten I am. Life is crazy, isn’t it? Just twelve hours ago, we were calling one another names and cursing each other out… And now we’re here.
We make our way through her apartment, grabbing our coffees on the way. Even though I try to say I’ll walk home, she insists on dropping me off. I don’t fight it, as any excuse to spend just a few more minutes with her is enough for me. There isn’t even conversation happening between us, but it’s a comfortable sort of silence. A silence I would sit in all day with her, happily. I already know I’m falling for her as my mind starts to play little fantasies of lazy Sundays spent lounging in the same room with nothing but the sound of distant music as we go about our own tasks. Maybe she would kick her legs up over mine. Maybe there would be the smells of a dinner slow cooking in the oven wafting into the room.
It’s something I had always wanted: a small and quiet moments where nothing is really happening, and yet they mean the most because they become your happy places to escape to mentally when the world felt as though it was caving in.
I never had those with Eliza. It was always something. She couldn’t handle silence.
I extinguish the thought, not liking the taste it left in my mouth for my mind to compare the two of them. And I don’t want thinking about what Eliza is currently doing to spoil my mood and ruin this morning I’m having with Wren. I let it go and allow myself to dissolve into the moment once again. It’s just us, the crisp morning air, and the mellow notes of lo-fi jazz coming through her stereo after we climb into her car.