52: Coffee Shop Romances (drabble)
She sits forlornly at her table, a cappuccino next to her hand slowly losing its warmth as she reflects quietly.
Today, she wears a white knitted dress with black leggings and equally as black combat boots – an odd choice of clothing that she’s picked out today, but she doesn’t mind.
The coffee shop is packed, brimming with customers. It almost doesn’t surprise her when a stranger takes the seat opposite her, a to-go coffee cup in his hand. She breaks from her reverie of reflection and stares at the stranger. Heavy, cerulean blue eyes, a Roman nose, chiseled jaw, a kind and almost impish smile. His features are of the perfect man, a man named Adonis, she guesses.
She does not know the man. She has never seen him in her life. Yet from this first exchange of eye contact, it is as if she has shared her life with him, exchanged phone numbers, phone calls, late-night jokes, embraces, kisses, erotic touches. She’s gone on numerous dates with him, the first being the one in the coffee shop. On the third date, he asked her to be his girlfriend. She responded eagerly with a passionate kiss. On the fifth date, he asked her to move in. On the sixth, seventh, eighth, all figments of her imagination alright, but she could feel the memories wash over her like they were her very own.
She could taste his lips on her own, black coffee mixed with something that was completely him, which intoxicated her. She was afraid of loving him, yet he completely opened her up. She felt safe with him. She felt safe knowing that he would protect her, love her, care for her.
She was in love. She loved him, and he loved her, and that was all that mattered.
The stranger threw her one last careless smile before taking his coffee cup and walking out the door. At once, the memories were gone, as if they had never been there in the first place. She tried to recall them, but she couldn’t remember a single scene, touch or figure for the life of her.