tea and peaches

happy. aha.

She is eating a peach opposite me like she always did; a peach and a cup of tea, every single time. I suppose that’s why I am here, that security, that safety and that companionship: come next Thursday, she’d be sitting in front of me eating her peach. It’s a shame we have emotions because everything could be incredibly uncomplicated if we didn’t.

Unfortunately we do and love flourishes stubbornly. People say weeds grow everywhere, but for me it is love. Love pokes its’ small head through frosted ice on a frozen lake or through the wooden slats of a well-tended garden bed; love perseveres even when the gardener in our brain prunes it and covers it in emotional weed killer.

It is for that reason I sit in front of her now: I have myself convinced that it is just friendship, but I don’t even like this café, or tea and peaches. These are the sort of fickle details love forgives.

She catches me staring at her and smiles before looking back at her book. Sometimes there’s a flare or a flicker of fondness I fail to associate with either love or friendship, thus losing myself in the milky absence in between. It is these moments that worry me most, but there is always a hand in the gloom that leads me home and that is the promise that we will at least be together in nothingness.

Like the sun’s warm glow or the nutrients suckled up through long and winding roots, courage fuels love. Courage is foolish, but all products of greatness must have it. I look at her now: dimpled cheeks and lumps of peach on lips. My own tea goes cold as I watch her tea slowly being stirred by her beautifully absent-minded hands.

There’s a sudden surge in my stomach: a certain compulsion to shout and scream, what about I’m not sure, but I knew that if I told it to, my mouth would form words. What came out in the end was half-burp half-confession-of-love.

‘I like you, Rose’

The red-faced embarrassment as I spluttered my emotions onto the table before her far outweighed any pride I had in finally confessing.

Rose didn’t even look up, but I saw her smile and the spoon had gone rigid in her left hand.

'Well that's good isn't it'

Yes, I thought, yes it is, moving to pick up my bag and run as far away as possible.

Half way out of my seat, I see her pause half way down the page -- her hand hovers over a word I can’t make out. She looks up with that questioning look on her face where the tongue is poised for asking, but her face softens and loses its’ urgency.

‘Yes, I like you too’

Suddenly it was a lot more than tea and peaches in our favourite café.

Reviews

[MissEpic2902]

This is Great! Keep up the good work! :)

[Harry Alston]

Thank you, I will try to!

[MissEpic2902]

No problem!

[eglantine]

"thus losing myself in the milky absence in between" ......... Amazing. Great consistency of garden theme throughout. I applaud you for tackling that vague word, 'love' and succeeding. Sweet story, great attention to finite details. I pictured everything perfectly with all of my senses, even without you giving lots of concrete images to go off of. I'd leave off the "Yes" in her response. wait, no, leave it lol Thanks for sharing. Going in my favorites.

[Harry Alston]

Haha, thankyou so much, I am glad you managed to capture the senses behind the story :)

[Enchantment]

I loved this tale of love. Very descriptive. You led your readers, as if they were right there sipping tea and waiting for love to transpire between the two characters. Thank you for sharing

[Harry Alston]

Thank you for commenting :)

[KAOlmsted]

"...love perseveres even when the gardener in our brain prunes it and covers it in emotional weed killer."
--Harry...dear sweet Harry...I would pay cold, hard cash to take a vacation in your mind...just ball me up, give me a bounce or two for good measure, toss me into the depths of your creative, brilliant mind, and let me wander around freely...all-access pass...money well spent.

[eglantine]

hahaha, i'd buy a ticket to that!

[Harry Alston]

Haha, I will see what I can do for you both :)