“Did you find the 1915 there?” I teased, my smile growing when he glared and held the door open for me.
Their lobby smelled of Pine-Sol and pears. When theelevator opened for us, we faced a mirror, and I couldn’t help but note our stark differences and the climb we’d have to make to become a cohesive couple. His messy hair and my ‘no flyaways’ policy signaled a discrepancy. David’s shoulders slouched from his high school wallpaper years. My posture was tall, thanks to classes in manners and etiquette that began as soon as I could form a sentence.
“How do you feel about color coordinating?” I asked.
“What?”
“I’m brainstorming ways to make us look like we fit together.”
David hadn’t glanced in the mirror before, but he was staring at us in it now. “We look fine together.”
“Fine and fitting are two very different things.”
He continued to stare and surprised me by moving closer until he stood behind me. I could feel the heat of his body, a solid energy. There was a lump in my throat when he looked down at me. I kept my gaze straight, transfixed on the curious way he was scanning my profile. When he looked at me like that, we looked fine. Great, even. It didn’t make any sense, but we were a mismatched outfit that somehow worked.
I pulled my gaze from the mirror and met his. We were face-to-face for a second, close enough that our breaths mingled. Was it possible to miss something I’d only experienced one time?
David’s gaze fell on my lips, studying them as if he were trying to read words before I uttered them. His hand pressed gently on my lower back as if to keep me in place for a second. I didn’t feel like I was on solid ground anymore. The aimless floating didn’t induce panic. I was as safe as I’d ever been.
I leaned closer to him as if some force tugged me. My heart was in my throat. Right when my nose brushed his, the elevator dinged. David pulled away, walking out unceremoniously, completely unfazed.
I laughed at myself in the mirror, rubbing my hand on my burning cheek. It took a couple of seconds to regain my composure. Once I did, I followed him to the end of the hall. All the doors had bubble letters and stickers from bands or movies on them. I knew which one was David’s before we reached it. The door was blank, as if no one had moved in yet.
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” I said under my breath when he opened the door, revealing a clean, nearly empty studio. I kid not, there was a sparkle on his kitchen appliances, their cleanliness somewhat historical.
“Take off your shoes,” he said, gesturing to his own pair near the door.
I did as he said, still scanning the space as if I’d only get a couple of minutes to memorize everything before being told to leave.
His bed set was deep green, with the sheets tucked tightly underneath the mattress. The comforter folded perfectly, draped over the bottom of the bed. David had two pieces of art on the walls. One: a print of Mount Rainier. The colors were bright and saturated, and the texture was like oil. The other print was of a very sad-looking, anamorphic bird.
“Are you thirsty?”
I jumped at his voice, so lost in wondering why the contrasting prints felt so him. “Huh?”
David raised a brow and held up two choices: a water and a sports drink.
I shook my head and shrugged out of my blazer. “I’m fine.”
“Here.” David hurried over before I could rest it on the back of his couch.
I let him have it, figuring it was something he needed to be particular about. “Should I sit or wait for a bedsheet or something?”
“What?” David flashed me a confused look as hetugged my blazer over a wooden hanger and carefully set it on the rack. The crisp pink plaid stood out amongst his black and blue collection of sweatshirts. I had the urge to add more to the mix, to make it an even amount. Level the playing field. Make it easier to see how it’d look if we lived together…
Relax, Yara. It was one kiss.
I didn’t even know what I meant about living together. I wouldn’t be able to stand anyone other than Haven as a roommate.
“I had an aunt like you,” I said, careful with every word that left my lips because, just like my picking, this was uncharted territory for both of us. “She didn’t like us sitting on her furniture with outside clothes on. And she couldn’t —not for lack of trying— get us to wash up and change into fresh clothes every time we visited. So, she wrapped everything in plastic.”
“I don’t care if you sit on my couch, Yara.” He sounded exhausted, and I frowned. Well, screw me for trying to be considerate.
I plopped down on his couch and dumped my bag down beside me. He eyed the bag but didn’t say a thing as he took a seat on the edge of his bed.
The space between us was small, filled only by a circular wooden coffee table. There were a couple of textbooks stacked neatly, accompanied by a straight line of pens and pencils. I unloaded my laptop, pulling up the document I’d set up for our deep dive. David cracked open a water bottle. I watched his neck bob as he took a few sips. The veins in his hand were prominent as he clutched the bottle. I traced those veins down his forearm, all the way to his elbow.
“Yara,” his voice tugged my gaze back to his face.
