Prom Dance

Sunday, June 8, 2014 Comments Off

"You owe me a prom dance." she said nonchalantly, fingers dancing lightly on top of the silverwares.
He stopped drinking the coffee for a moment and then continued on without any slightest hint of being apprehensive about the subject. His phone buzzed, an incoming call that he ignored but was not unaware of. A polite smile creeped up his soft thick lips and then, as if a breeze suddenly blew near the pair, it went away swiftly. The guy continued on sipping on his hot dark liquid while occasionally put it on the table to bite on his brunch.
The woman in front of him did not flinch at all, her fingers were still grazing the surface of the table, sometimes tap dancing in front of his plate. "How did it come to this?" she asked, her eyes were focused on the weeping babe that sat few seats behind him––as if she was the mother of the babe herself, who thought having a baby equaled to having more cheerful laughters.
He had not said one word throughout the whole exchange. Just a smile, here and there, as if he did not speak her language or her wordings lost their meanings.
"Are you... that is to say... are we..." she breathed.
Silence. Pretty silence.

Later at night, when the woman had settled in for the night and under her trusted black comforter, she kissed him on his neck. Smiling, she whispered, "Thank you for letting me do that."
He nodded. "I know, you don't have to say it; you can't say about anything properly. I understand. I know that every now and then you need to do this. To just say whatever it is that comes in your mind without any remorse. I get it."
"Thank you. I love you."
"And, wife? I think I've paid my debt. I did not get to dance with you at our prom, but at least we had our wedding dance... and others." his statement were followed with generous laughters from both throats.

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