🖤 for rahul 🤔
thoughts on seeing your muse from a distance | accepting
the diner she frequents is the only one open at this hour within a ten block radius of her train station. the moon is long past it’s peak, every decent person having quit the evening hours before, the only other patrons a street cat that steals pieces of bacon from the sleepy-eyed server & a stiff breeze that rattles through the crack in the window next to her booth.
the cellphone shakes angrily against the table as tired eyes pour over spreadsheets as the the project that’s been months in the making threatens to split away at the seams. why do they torture themselves this way?
another hour slips by as the server replenishes an ever empty mug of bitter, black coffee & sungji has half a mind to fall asleep right there at the table.
the chime of bells signals the entrance of another, pulling sungji from the warm embrace of an almost slumber, golden hues blinking away the sleep to refocus on the screen. the other takes a seat a few booths away, quickly cracking open their own computer and books and whatever else they brought that manages to fill up every square inch of the tabletop surface. bronze gaze casts over to the other table, silent curiosity welling at the softness of the features. determined, wildly so. almost destructive in the way their brow furrows a deep chasm of focus or concern or perhaps a dutiful mix of both as they pour over the materials & whisper quiet mutterings to themself.
hmm.
sungji eyes the stranger over sly sip of the steaming coffee, ignoring the burn searing across a sensitive tongue, & wonders why they’re typing like they’re running out of time. wonders what has their gaze glowing with some unmarred passion that feels far too unfamiliar. they touch the frame of their glasses often, gently. as if coaxing a thought from their own mind with each nudge. the ping of an email draws her attention back to her work & she doesn’t allow her mind to stray for the following hour until the task is complete.
dawn peers from just below the horizon & the next day is unrelenting in it’s calling, so sungji silently packs her things & heads to the office to sleep on the couch for a few hours. not before paying the bill, of course, for the both of them. no words exchange, not even a parting glance as the business of the day calls, but her mind drifts to the furrow of their brow & slope of their shoulders & a wish that the stranger won’t be so much of a stranger anymore flits through the air like dandelion puffs on the wind.