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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1692018
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1692018
A man watches the love of his life in a cafe.
She was already in the café when I arrived. I looked across at her, sitting there, reading her magazine, hands cupping a cappuccino. Her favourite drink. I smiled to myself, waiting for her to move, perhaps even to notice me. She didn’t seem bothered by people staring at her. I suppose, in her line of work, you wouldn’t. She’s an actress. They say she's the most beautiful woman in England, and I don’t disagree.

Her natural brown skin seems to glow particularly in the sun that shines on her. She’s wearing a spaghetti strap dress – the same one she was wearing the first time I lay eyes on her. She tucks a long lock of almost black hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath. Closing her hazel eyes briefly, she smiles. She looks so content. It’s these little things about her that make me love her even more.

I smile at her, but she still doesn’t notice me, so I sit down. Her eyes don’t stray once from the pages of her magazine. I try to see what she’s reading. As I lean across to see what it is, I notice the lack of bright colours I associate with fashion magazines. It isn’t about fashion at all. Or gossip. It’s a business publication. It seems I’ve underestimated her. These surprises – another reason I love her.

A waiter comes over to me and asks if he can help me. I tell him yes, but rather than tell him what I really want, I ask for a flat white. He nods, then notices where my gaze lies.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” he says with a smile.

She sure is, I think to myself, but to him, I just nod. She turns the page of her magazine, and a small frown appears on her delicate face. I want to dive across the table and see what’s bothering her, but I must refrain myself. I must wait until she looks up and catches my eye. For now, I’ll just enjoy watching her, waiting. She lets out a sigh of relief, and I can only imagine what she read that bothered her.

She lifts the cup to her beautiful, plump lips and slowly takes a sip, closing her eyes to do so. My breath gets shaky as I watch her and my heart skips a beat. I’m almost unable to contain the way I feel about her any longer. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.

No. No, I can’t take it. I’m going to say something. I need those eyes to look into mine. I need her to gaze into my eyes the way I gaze into hers, I need her to see my feelings in them.

I get up and purposefully walk the length between my table and hers – about fifteen or so feet – and tap her on the shoulder.

She slowly turns to look up at me. That few seconds seemed like an hour as I waited, so impatiently, to know how she would react to my presence. Her eyes widened as they took in the vision before her. I could only hope that was excitement. Then that frown I’d seen earlier reappeared.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

I frowned. I’d thought she’d recognise me.

“I...it's me! Don't you remember me? You signed a poster for me on August 4th, 2004."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie, I sign a lot of posters! Give me a serviette and I can sign you another. What was your name?"

"You...I...I love you! We can be together forever, it's okay, I know you don't like cameras in your face all day, we can leave this place, we'll elope! Yes, we can elope together. We'll leave everything behind, it'll just be you and me together, forever. I mean, I suppose we'll have to come back and see family. You and your sister are very close, I can't disturb that relationship, but you never got along well with your parents, did you?"

I took a second to breathe and take in her response. She looked slightly taken aback.

An arm grabbed me from behind. Then another pulled me back. I was slowly being dragged away from the love of my life, and she didn't even care.

© Copyright 2010 E.J Wilkinson (emmajayne.w at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1692018