[Her POV] She wandered into the small cafe, looking around for a place to sit. It was busy, and yet her favorite chair in the corner didn’t appear to be occupied. She picked her way through the various people and pulled out chairs, stealing quick glances at their Excel spreadsheets and tumblr feeds as she brushed past them. One person--the only one without a computer--appeared to be reading Shakespeare. When she examined his body language more carefully, he was on his phone. He glanced up, having felt someone watching him. She quickly looked away, turning to sit in her chair. She read for awhile, and every now and then she heard a small jingle, accompanied a few moments later by a cool breeze and the smell of rain.
[His POV] He let the door of the cafe close behind him. He took off his scarf, letting the rain fall off him and onto the floor. He looked for the familiar face of his girlfriend. She had asked to meet him here at five, and that means she was probably here a half an hour ago.
She stared intently at her book, though she hadn’t turned a page in probably twenty minutes. Since she had opened to the page, someone had started a small fire in the place next to her. She wasn’t sure when, though the gentle crackling eventually distracted her from the singular line she had been reading. She gave up, and closed the book gently, letting it rest in her lap. She desperately wanted to read something. She needed a distraction from the conversation she was about to have. Reaching over into her purse, she pulled out a small envelope, which, as told by its aged look, was a few months old, given to her on their first Valentine’s Day--about a month after they’d been dating. She pulled open the adhesive, surprisingly still strong after the number of times she had pulled it apart in an attempt to feel the letter for the nth time. She gently unfolded the letter, which was in pristine condition. She glanced over the letter. She wasn’t even reading the words, just reciting them gently in her head.
I’ve found that our relationship has been less like the usual uphill climb, it more resembles a rocket’s trajectory. With each passing day, I hope a little more that what we find at the top is orbit.
When her eyes started to water, she blinked hard. When she finished the letter, she folded it back up, gently placing it in the envelope. She felt better. She opened her book again, and began to read the first line on the third page. It hadn’t changed.
He scanned the room, passing over a chair in the corner. He tried to meet his girlfriend’s gaze, but to no avail. It was fixed on a page of a book. He wandered over and removed his jacket, giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead.
She smiled when she felt a pair of familiar lips brush across her forehead. She glanced up from her book and met his eyes, then closed it and set it down on the table. Tilting her head back and accepting another small kiss, she smiled at him.
He sat across from her in what would appear to be a similar, yet somehow less comfortable, chair.
“Have you ever... wondered what’s going on in someone else’s head?” He questioned.
“Well, no. I don’t ever wonder,” she smiled at him.
She spent most of her time in her own head. She didn’t have to wonder what others were thinking. She knew. That guy, from earlier, wanted to buy her a coffee. She glanced at him. He was watching them--disappointment filling his eyes.
He paused, looking at her softly, waiting for her to elaborate a little.
“You know, I wish I knew as much as you did. I mean, you always seem to know what’s on my mind.”
She paused for a while, thinking herself.
He smiled to himself, finding that he was, in this moment, just like any other, wondering what was going on in her head.
“I don’t know what’s going on in your mind right now,” she frowned.
“Well,” he thought aloud, “it’s mostly to do with you.”
Just like always.
She looked at him affectionately, but soon got distracted. She heard a small jingle, and braced herself against the cold. A breeze brushed across her face, and she blinked before she settled her gaze back on him. She wondered what he wanted to talk about. She knew it was something: that’s why she had invited him here. There was something in his head that he wasn’t sharing, and she couldn’t read.
He looked at her as she gazed over his shoulder, her mind clearly somewhere else. She had her eyebrows furrowed, just slightly, and she was chewing just a little on the inside of her lip. She had her hand in her hair, just behind her right ear.
She watched as he shifted in his chair. He looked like he had something to say. She wasn’t particularly worried about whatever it was. They were perfectly happy, however something had been forming in his mind for two or so weeks. She wanted to know what it was.
When he moved, she snapped back into reality and blinked, focusing back on his face.
“Hmm?” she questioned.
“Nothing. I just like watching you think,” he smiled gently before furrowing his brow.
He watched her face. Her eyes shone like she had a question. Or maybe she knew something. God, did she know? Or was she worried? He dismissed the idea, deciding that if she wanted to, she would ask about it. He looked back at her and smiled. She was watching him.
“You know, furrow your eyebrows, just a little, and you chew on the inside of your lip.” She looked at him blankly.
“What?”
“Oh. You know, when you think. And when you put your hand in your hair, I know you’re really into whatever it is that you have going on up there.”
She looked at him, smiling. She thought about how she wanted to word her question.
He watched her, she was drifting off, he really hoped he hadn’t accidentally messed this up.
“You seem like you have something to say,” she stated quietly. She saw something flash behind his eyes. She thought to herself, trying to remember if she had done something wrong. Should she be worried? No. She can’t let herself go there. It’s not healthy. They’re doing great. Amazing, in fact.
“What do you mean? I have been saying things. I would argue you’re the one with something to say.” He glanced at her. Did she know?
She blinked. He has something to say. Why would he keep it from her? Is he happy? She was. Wouldn’t he be happy? Someone who could write a letter so heartfelt couldn’t possibly be unhappy. She’s just being paranoid, she told herself. He’s okay. Why is she so worked up about this? She focused on his eyes. She really looked at them for a moment. He loves her. It’s not that she thinks she’s undeserving of him. She just… How did she get so lucky to find a love like this? To find him?
“I mean I guess I do have something to say.”
Oh god… he thought to himself.
“I don’t know what it is though, you just seem like you have something on your mind. I can’t figure out what it is. I’m not worried about it, I want to talk to you about it. Tell me what’s going on up there? Should I be worried?”
“Oh sweetheart, no. That’s not it at all,” No, that’s not what he meant to make her feel. He shifted slightly and felt a small box move in his pocket. Definitely not what he meant.
“Are you distancing yourself from me? Are you going to break up with me?”
“Oh sweetheart no that’s not what’s happening. Please don’t worry,” he sighed.
“But-” she started,
“-don’t worry about it,” he snapped.
He immediately regretted it when he saw her body language change. Her shoulders curved in slightly and her face went slack.
“I’m sorry, that was harsh. I just don’t know how to convince you that you shouldn’t be worried. You shouldn’t be in the slightest. I’m so much more than happy.”
She looked at his eyes. They shone a with that soft side of him that she knew was in there, just below the surface.
“I don’t know why I do this to myself. If you say I shouldn’t worry I shouldn’t worry. We’re fine, aren’t we?”
He shifted to the edge of his chair.
“Sweetheart we’re better than fine. Please don’t worry”
He gently touched her face and watched her close her eyes. He felt her give slightly to his touch. Her shoulders relaxed.
“Tell me what I can do,”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. His gaze was fixed intensely on her own, and she saw him trying to puzzle through her emotions.
“You don’t have to do anything. I need to stop worrying. If you say we’re okay, I believe you. I just have to.. Convince myself a little. I’ll be okay.”
He grabbed her hand, and she let hers rest in it.
“Hey.”
“We’re okay.”