Love is blind...right? A blossoming relationship encounters trouble when eyes wander.
He stood silently, watching me intently as I washed the dishes. He stood, his hip leaning against the counter and both his elbows on top of the counter. The leg closest to the counter was bent and the other straight.
He had been quiet the whole evening, even when he first came over. I had greeted him with a kiss, and he received it passively, which wasn't like him. I didn't ask him what was wrong since he seemed lost in his thoughts and didn't seem to want to talk. At all. He just silently accepted the meal that I had prepared for us. Only when dinner was over did he finally say anything.
He stood watching me wash the dishes for awhile and then he said, "A girl hit on me today at work."
"Oh?" I replied, not liking where this was going.
His eyes shifted away from mine as he struggled to say something, that something that was on his mind all evening.
"She's more beautiful than you," he announced after an extended pause.
His sharp words slashed my wrists. How, I do not know, but the words fell, piercing my flesh. As he said those words, I was busying myself with rinsing out a cup. The cup had remains of red fruit punch, and as the water washed the remains down the drain, I could have swore that it was my blood, my blood swirling down the drain from my wound where he so viciously cut me with his words. In that instant, I realized how vulnerable I was. Love made me vulnerable, and my heart was tucked between his teeth. He knew this and did not crunch down on my heart, but he couldn't help but to give it a little squeeze, just enough to let the teeth prick my heart so the blood ran, falling, swirling down the drain.
I looked at him without saying anything for a long time. I looked straight into his slate gray eyes, wondering what he was thinking. He knew what kind of response he would get for saying that. Did he want me to get angry with him? Did he want to make me jealous?
He said no more after that, so to break our stare, I spitted out, "And what? I have a nice personality?"
He gave a staccato burst of laughter at my sarcasm and wiped the laugh from his mouth with his hand just as quickly. My comment wasn't funny, but he appreciated my wit.
"You wish that I hadn't told you?" he asked, his eyes never leaving my face, studying me, analyzing me.
I mulled over this for a moment while looking away. "No, whether you tell me or not doesn't change what you think," I said matter-of-factly but also softly.
After this statement, I had to do something so I began putting the dishes back into the cupboard, so I wouldn't have to think.
Moments passed with just the sound the clanking of dishes as I stacked the plates away, and he continued to watch me. I could see him in the corner of my eye, watching me. I didn't even try to know what he was thinking. For the whole time that we have been dating, I never knew what he was thinking behind those cool, gray eyes. I pretended at first, but no, I've always been clueless.
I sighed unconsciously, feeling ugly. She's more beautiful than you/. Ugh, how can he say that? I felt uglier by the second and more and more, I become more conscious of his piercing eyes staring at me. I knew he had to blink, but his glaze never shifted, even for a split second. He never told me that I was beautiful or even pretty or even /anything/, I realized. Only now, only in comparison to another girl does he say that I'm beautiful. I'm just /less beautiful than she is.
I shut the cupboard door and then slowly wiped the mugs off. I was biding my time since he stood in the way of the next cupboard over, where all the mugs and glasses went. The whole time I had avoided his eyes. He's waiting until I return the gaze, I realized. I felt ashamed because I just stood there, not even able to look at him or tell him to move. I didn't have anything else to dry or put away except the mugs. And I couldn't put the mugs away because I couldn't tell him to move.
Finally, I yanked my eyes to his. His portraiture hit me all at once. I have always been amazed how attractive he was. His dark brown was short, but even still, it fell like shaggy fringe along his forehead. Under dark eyebrows, his slate gray eyes pierced seriously at his target. His high cheek bones were softened now by the sly smile that he gave me. He slightly lifted his nice, angular chin as he said, "Do I need to move?"
I could only stare at him, my voice gone. Now I realized why I felt ashamed. I always have felt that I wasn't good enough for him, that I wasn't pretty enough, that I didn't make enough money, that I didn't talk enough.... He hit my vulnerable spot with his words. Did he know that soft spot when he said those words?
I could only look at him bashfully. He moved away from the cupboard, and my grip on the mug that I was holding tightened as I started to pick it up to put it away. He grabbed me around the waist and kissed me vigorously. My grip on the mug loosened and my hand slipped out of the handle and slipped around his neck. I shivered slightly as he held me snugly and kissed me. He's only kissed me like this a few times before and each time I desperately wanted to know if this is a taste of how it would be like to be in bed with him.
He loosened his grip on me and broke the kiss.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to see her or anything," he said.
"Oh, even though she's more beautiful than me?" I retorted.
He smiled and chuckled softly. Leaning so close to me that our lips almost touched, he murmured, "Maybe, but you have bigger boobs than she does." His hand slid and cupped one of my breasts while his gaze never left my face. Does he know me so well that he doesn't have to look? He just knows?
"Well, as long as you're not seeing her for all the right reasons," I muttered back.
He laughed, and I breathed in his warm breath that carried the scent of the coffee that I brewed for him. I don't what struck me funny, but I began to laugh, too. We held each other, laughing at a joke that we only knew.
After our laughter quieted down, he looked down at me intently as he kissed me slowly. I gazed back into his eyes, but soon my eyes dropped to watch our lips move in harmony.
Now, he dropped his mouth lowered and began kissing my neck. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and giggled in delight.
I never felt more beautiful.