“Hey, cut that out.” I pushed his hand away. “You‘re messing up the window.”
“So?” He smiled. “It’s yours anyway.”
“Uh, yeah-- and you’re getting my window dirty. Quit spreading those germs around before I banish you, or something. I don’t know where your mouth’s been.”
“Yes, you do.” He laughed. “You know exactly who it belongs to and she can just reach it, if she stands on her toes.” He leaned over the table toward me, his lips soft as they gently grazed mine. His soft scent wrapped around my senses as he moved away; I inhaled deeply-- trying to take in as much of him as possible. "She's a very nice girl, you know. Might not appreciate the way you talk to me." Watching him take a good solid drink, I realized for the millionth time how much I liked the way he moved. With a calm solidarity that lacked both uncertainty and haste, he held the manner of a man who was comfortable right down to his soul.
“What?” He said suddenly.
“What?”
“You’re looking. What is it?”
“I’m not allowed to look now?”
“Oye, Marie…”
I laughed. “I just like your face.” I told him the truth. “I just do.”
“Oh.” He didn’t blush, he only blushed when he was embarrassed, but he did take another drink. The cold outside the window washed beautifully over his sunbathed olive complexion. His warm green eyes, never vacant, gazed over the dormant world outside as the sun slowly started it’s daily journey-- probably pondering the shapes in the stars still visible overhead.
We sat for a while, sipping our coffee, speaking occasionally… And when he left for work I realized, this was what I wanted. It took two years and a lot of growing and hurting and working and even a little re-learning… But this was it.