Date
Date — I’ll write a drabble of my character taking yours out on a date.
it was a pretty day, one that indicated the end of a winter, promised warmer, brighter days. but lisa never thought about her hours like this. every day seemed to blend into the next. colder today, warmer tomorrow, it didn’t really make a difference to her.
and it was probably because of this that her friends made her do this in the first place. ‘you need to get out,’ they had said, meaning well as anyone, a kind of hopefulness in their voices, intentions all too clear. but there was no point in arguing when even she knew deep down that sitting on her couch, wasting her life away, wasn’t going to get her anywhere. at nineteen years old she was as pretty and as energetic as she would ever be in her life, and there had to be something to show for it.
she walks alongside him, feeling the sun’s rays kiss exposed skin. her head turns every so often, sneaks glances at his eyes, his hair, his lips, blinking as if she’s still unsure about this, as if she’s doubting.
“i don’t do this often.” her admittance comes with a bit of a wince, fingers going straight up to her hair, playing frivolously with the ends. a bad habit, if there ever was one. there’s no good reason why she said that, but she can’t stop it once it escapes from her lips, each word flitting like a flower petal, left and right until it lands in its intended destination.
“don’t do what? walk?” there’s a certain amusement in his words, and she looks up suddenly, walls carefully built brick by brick, meticulously tended to so she could explain, so she could shield herself from whatever he could say. but her eyes find his and every syllable is forgotten as she squints her eyes, mind whirling in order to figure it out.
there’s a kind of safety in his smile, a kind of warmth that seemed to be taken from the sun itself, moulded at compressed into a quirk of his lips, a lift at the corners. it was the kind of smile that promised only good things, promised to take her monochrome view of the world, open her eyes and show her reds and blues and pinks. it promised to take away silence, let her hear the crash of waves at it hit a rock, the cheers of schoolchildren when the last bell rang, the crackle of fireworks as it burst in the air.
it said ‘trust me’, and lisa couldn’t help but lower her armor, peeking outside of her walls. her lips curve into a half grin, barely noticeable but certainly there.
after all, it’s easy to talk to him. dull moments are made vivid in his presence, as if he took a crayon and colored them in. following every contour, bright and brighter. there’s no silence, no awkwardness as they trip over each other’s words like cracks on a sidewalk, the sunlight becoming the best source of energy as they walked down the street.
“let’s do this again.” his words come with a bout of bittersweetness, a kind of sadness that the day was over, the light fading and making way for the moon to take its station. there’s a certain promise that’s attached onto his voice, a kind that makes lisa look down, a slight pink flushing her cheeks as she let go of his hand.
“tomorrow?” she’s hopeful, holding her breath as she waits for his answer, the possibility of rejection stopping any kind of oxygen to her lungs.
“tomorrow.” she exhales, a feeling of relief warming her from the inside out when he agrees, a bright grin spreading across her lips as she stands up on tiptoe, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before walking backwards toward her door.
