One too many glasses of wine
1085 Words
There's is something strange in the way he looks at me when I come back into the room. I feel uneasy, but nonetheless I offer him a smile.
Alexander sits onto the sofa, much like Aaron did just last night. The resemblence is there... And it's unsettling.
"Would you like something to drink? I definitely don't have whiskey of the kind you like or any at all, but I have wine -" I offer, and Alexander nods lightly.
"Some wine would be nice. Haven't had any in too long-" he hums as he shifts his attention to the room around us.
The living room was simple. The walls were a simple off white color, with no texture, but plenty of plants to make it easier to look at. Hanging plants which shadowed the corners and tall wide leaved ones in large pots on the ground to make the space appear taller than it actually was.
The curtains were a gentle pink, which allowed little light to filter through them during the day, that complemented the plants, the pillows on the sofa and the fuzzy green carpet.
The only thing standing out was my oversized yellow bean bag that was right beside the sofa, still holding the shape of my body from last night.
Alexander drinks in the details of my almost empty shelves and scarcity of books, while I pour the both of us some white wine I still had laying around unopened.
We decide on what to have for dinner and we go on with a little, meaningless chat. He compliments how I put together the whole place, I blush and say it's nothing. He asks me about how I like it and comments on how little the space was, and I don't even know what I tell him. I know I'm talking, but what's coming out of my mouth was a bit of a mystery to me.
"Where's your studio now?" he asks and this snaps me back to reality.
I stare at him like a doe in stuck in the head lights and wonder if i should really tell him. What was the harm in that, right? I somehow questioned the genuinity of this whole interaction and this very question seemed a little too personal right now.
"It's not too far from here, really -" I comment and offer a relaxed shrug.
The man nods lightly and takes another sip from his glass.
"Maybe we can resume our project soon." he murmurs, eyes trailing away from me, to the open TV that run in the background without anyone paying it any sort of attention.
I can feel my heart skip a beat while I hear him. Working with him again would not only be an honor, but it would really add some shine to my days. I felt like a fool, like a little schoolgirl who couldn't help but crush on her older colleague... only that Alexander was not my colleague. He was far out of my league... but so was Max, so maybe there was a chance.
What chance could there be when all I could do was make sure the man was creeped out to the point he'd walk himself out not too long into our conversations?
"Would you actually like that?" I find myself asking.
Alexander looks at me through the corner of his eyes and I feel my cheeks tint once more. I take the glass and sip from it slowly, looking down at our untouched dinner. I was starving, and yet, I could not bring myself to actually put something in my stomach.
It felt as if anything solid that went in there would make me choke and die. Wine was fine though. It made this whole thing enjoyable, not just bearable.
"I would." he states simply, drinking from his glass, downing the last bit as if it was a shot of strong alcohol.
I get up take the empty glass from him.
"I'll bring some more..." I whisper, my voice a little tight because of all the nerves and anxiety and genuine happiness that took hold of me.
Back in my little kitchen, I fish out the bottle of wine and pop the cork out and refill our glasses. How many did we have already? I didn't keep track of them, but I am certain that we already emptied a whole bottle.
*** Alexander's POV ***
I watch as she walks away and for a few more moments, I remain sitting there, silent, my eyes pinned on the open door she had just walked through. My stomach twists and one day, I might blame the alcohol for all this, despite being very well aware I had been plotting it for a while now.
I get up and follow behind her. The kitchen is small and I don't really have any space to join her, so I remain rooted in the doorframe watching her. She fills the glasses, her back turned to me, her guard lowered to the point that not even when I am inches away from her, she doesn't take notice of me.
But I do. I am painfully aware of how her perfume fills my lungs, on how her smile makes my skin crawl, on how her gentle laughter makes me almost want to hate myself for forgetting about Talia, even if it was just for a mere moment.
One of my hand slowly rises and comes to rests on her waist and she flinches instantly, slamming the half empty glass bottle on the table, her head snapping to the side, gawking at me through the corner of her eyes as if I were nothing but an intruder. Which I definitely was.
I did feel like an intruder. This was her place, her little safe haven. Everything was lively but it was a little too small. A little too cramped and I was far too tall and big to easily accommodate to such a place-
I lean in and my nose presses into her hair and my eyes close with heavy lids. This close, I realise that she is using the same perfume as Talia, but right now I don't process it as an insult to my late wife, but rather a heart warming thing. I haven't felt it in so long... the perfume had faded ages ago from our bedroom...
"Alex-" She starts, her voice low, her whole body stiff.
"Don't -" I rasp, a little too caught up in my own head.
- Writer
