It was the absolute closest thing two teenage lovers could get to a romantic, private candlelit dinner. Vibrant colors of the sunset cutting through the glass of the windows in her old farm house. A single blueberry votive candle and a bowl full of fresh, ripe apples at the center of the kitchen table. Two places set at the table, each facing an empty spot, so they’ll be just close enough to one another.
Her long dark hair was piled messily on the top of her head, her best ear rings shimmering delicately from her ears. Pieces of hair continuously fell in to her face as she cooked, her fingers forever swiping at it. She hummed and swayed happily along with the soft music coming out of the stereo system, her plain black cotton dress and flower covered apron swishing with her every move. Her bare feet glided across the hardwood floor as she moved from one task to the next. When she stood still, her calico cat wove between her legs, purring and begging for food.
Any more, it was hard for her to believe she used to hate this place, used to damn it with anything and everything bad that had ever happened to her. But now, now this place was home. This place made her happy. This place allowed her to be with him.
He was bounding up her front steps, math text book pinned to his side, when he saw them. In a flower bed near the door was a cluster of daisies, fighting to survive through the frost and the cold. He grabbed one of the blooms as a piece offering for his being a little late.
When she opened the door, he had the hand with the October daisy outstretched towards her, a goofy smile on his face. She took it, giggling and rolling her eyes, then motioned for him to follow her inside.
He didn’t expect any of it, except for maybe the bare feet and the wide, affectionate smile that caused the corners of her eyes to crinkle. He thought he was just coming over to spend time with his darling girl friend and study for the next day’s math test; stealing as much time as they could with each other before she got shipped away to her father’s house for the weekend. When she offered to make him dinner, he thought nothing of it, since he would be there long after his own family ate. He expected simple pasta or cold cut sandwiches, not a home cooked meal that required her to wear an apron that, albeit silly, clung to her beautifully.
After placing the daisy in to a small glass bottle on the table, she wrapped her pale, bare arms around his neck, pulling him close. She placed one hand on his cheek and he nuzzled in to it, giving the palm of her hand a lingering kiss. He put his hands on either side of her minuscule waist and pulled her to him.
Every time he kissed her, his lips somehow managed to crush her own while still remaining tender.
One heart beat.
Two heart beat.
Three heart beat.
He could taste the vanilla lip balm she wore and the coffee she had been drinking and just the sweetness that was her.
Four heart beat.
Five heart beat.
If she didn’t have to let him go eventually, she wouldn’t.
Six heart beat.
Seven heart beat.
Eight heart beat.
They both reluctantly pulled away from one another, but put their foreheads together and stared at each other for a long moment.
“Hi.” She breathed, smiling just a little.
“Hi.” He chuckled.