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They walked into the red and orange pastry shop, him leading the way through the labyrinth of customers, legs, and old, damaged furniture. Finding a spot in the centre of the hubbub he pulled back a chair and offered his hand. She paused for a second, looking at it in front of her, noticing a small cut on the palm.
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I wrote this after I realized I was in love with a friend. Obviously, this will have to go in the “romance” section, R.
We’re laying there, wine bottle in hand, slowly passing it back and forth from one to the other. We’re talking a little, but mainly our focus is on the film. The light from the television set is the only in the room, it flickers across our faces. The pillows against which we rest are dimly visible.
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