Editor's ChoiceLove and Romance Stories

Can I Buy You Coffee?

Watching him was all I did to stay sane. Although I knew he would never look at me, our lives were tethered together by fate… or was it destiny? I was never one to believe in the help of the universe—call me realist or whatever. But the prospect of having a supernatural help seemed like a fallacy, a far-fetched tale. It was something to tell simple-minded folks or gullible youth. I was never that, but everything changed when I met him and he became the center of my existence.

I knew I wasn’t his—not anymore, but when once upon a time I was his and he was mine, our thread connected from our creation. It was raw and passionate; fierce and dangerous it left us breathless and scared. A single glance would send my system into coma; a gaping fish begging for it natural oxygen. When our hands touched the surge of electricity was more destructive than the lightened of Zeus. Why? Because it not only affected my physical state, but my universe worshipped his presence.

“You are and will forever be the reason I live,” he said. This was the night everything changed and reality became fantasy. We sat at the river bank, listening to the silence of nature. I sat between his legs on a mini bridge set over the lake. From this position, we could see the whole scenery and it was stunning.

The lake highlighted the image of the moon. It glows made the lake come alive, like a goddess gracing the moment. Fireflies swarmed the atmosphere with delicate dance, to greet the goddess and entertain her ladyship and entourage with a blissful memory. The trees rustled as the breeze caressed her limbs with the sensual touch of a lover. She moved in obedience, surrendering her whole being to the skillful ministration of her parting lover yet ever present.

“Can you see the beauty of this moment?” I would laugh and pretend to understand. Although I thought it was just fairytale, I was wrong. He did see the beauty in the moment and he wanted me to see the beauty in our moment. That moment became our safe haven both in mentally and physically. We would come every full moon to watch the blessing of nature.

It was a small argument. I didn’t mean to say those words, yet they fell from my lips and pierced his heart. I caused it all; I ruined everything out of anger.

“I love you,” was all he said, yet it sounded like “I hate you, but can’t help but love you.” He walked out the door, my life and my love.

**************************

“Would you continue to stalk me?” My blood ran cold from the voice—a voice I had always longed for. I couldn’t turn to face him or even speak a word in my defense; I would not have anything to defend. From my Espial I was stalking him, my binoculars was a direct giveaway of my spy work. I should admit I never was cut out for secret investigation work. My camera was hanging around my neck—camera that had taken so much privacy from him.

“Ermm…I can explain.” I should be labeled a pervert except without the panties, lingerie and porno lying around. My voice was just above a whisper, my face still facing the direction of his earlier spot. I was so caught up in my reverie that I lost focus of my prey. I could imagine him eye rolling from my pitiful excuse. My hair prickled from his stare, the hair on my body tingled from his electrifying presence. Not that he had such paranormal power, but to me he could burn me with a heated gaze.

“Right… go on. I am listening,” he said.
The sound of feet shuffling could be held, moving closer to my hiding spot. I was crouching behind a shrub of bushes facing a nearby café.

Earlier he was seated, drinking iced tea while munching on moon cakes. He always loved when I made those cakes; he would ask, “Are you part Indian?” I would laugh it off as a compliment, but my heart always fluttered.

“Well…say, can I buy you a drink?” I replied instead. I would probably blurt out my endless sin.

“I should at least see the face of my stalker. You must really fancy me to follow me around a year.” He chuckled while getting comfortable beside me.

I shifted my weight away from him: he laughed. “I don’t bite, I promise… not yet, but after our date I can’t say.”

“How are you, Somto?” I asked. My voice was an epitome of pain, grief and anguish. Everything I had experience in a year came flooding out in that question. The tears fell in waves and fertilized the ground with heartfelt nutrient.

Everything became silent, even the rustling of leaves or the gentle whisper of the breeze. I could imagine his breathe stilling by my abrupt change in countenance. I was asking him out and now mourning over a lost one. My shoulders shook, my hands gripped my binoculars tightly as they lay limp on my knees.

“Do you know me?” he asked and shifted closer to me, held my hands gently. I flinched from his touch and he did not move to touch me again. I wanted him to touch me, to hold me; to forgive me. But I was not worth to wish for these things, how can I? I caused his pains.

“I am sorry. I don’t know you…” I said packing up my stuff to run away, run away like I have always done. “…I mistook you for someone else, I am sorry once again.” I stood up, my teary face still turned away from his gaze.

“You know me, Rosy Cheeks. You know me.” I felt the ground roll from under me and was swept into the past.

The first day we met and I blushed from how attractive he was. My fair cheeks turned red when I was caught staring, since then he nicknamed me Rosy Cheeks.

I whipped my head so fast I thought I was slapped by fantasy. I stared him straight in the face and once again like the first day, I blushed. “It wasn’t your fault, Ben. Don’t beat yourself over my accident or my coma for a year,” he said, his face contoured in agony from my rejection.

“I never should have allowed you walk out that night. I should have chased you, begged, and done whatever to keep you with me!” I screamed back at him. I was crumpling yet again just like the day I heard he had an accident the day he walked out on me. He waited for me at our spot till midnight and when I didn’t saw up, he drove back to my residence and on the way his car collided with a trailer. His car somersaulted into the lagoon and the rest only Somto knows. “I am sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”

“I love you, Ben. I love you now and forever, but I have Cinderella syndrome and would forget you soon,” he replied, turned his back and walked away. But this time, I would hunt him with a focus to forever be with him.

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