She knew that she felt something when she knew him, like, actually knew him and got to talk to him.
Was it happiness, of finding someone who would listen to her?
Was it joy, of having a moment to rest her soul with another kindred soul?
Or was it... love?
She paused for a moment.
He doesn't look all that handsome or breath taking, she mused as she took the cup of warm coffee into her palms. Not like the books she had read. He didn't have any ludicrious hair styles or colour, nor were his eyes chromatic. Just plain black.
So, was it how he treated her? A nice smile whenever he'd so much see her looking at him, a strong bond between him and her due to their intimate conversations they had, and a roof over her head whenever she'd come back from whatever adventure she craved.
She didn't know why he let her come and go so easily, but she felt at ease with him even though they had only met a few months ago. Seven? Or maybe nine? She wasn't sure. But after a few days with him, she knew she was comfortable around him.
She brought the cup up to her lips.
But why could she be comfortable around him? Why did she feel inclined to bring him a souvenir whenever she left?
Why?
And why did he let her stay at his place? Why didn't he advance onto her, like what happens in the news?
"You okay 'liz?"
His hand on her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts.
He was standing next to her, worry evident in his onyx black eyes as he looked at her.
She felt her pulse speed up slightly from the contact, and suddenly had a feeling that her voice would falter if she spoke.
She nodded, and took a sip of coffee.
He stood there for a few more moments, looking at her. "If you say so." He lifted his hand off before going to the fridge.
She wanted to tell him how she felt.
This zoomed past her mind.
Her face was definitely burning up now. A small part of her took note sarcastically that even though she had essentially killed her own father and seen the atrocities of war, she was a lovesick schoolgirl in front of him.
She took in his back as he bent over to grab something in the fridge. His now short crew cut used to be at shoulder length, his shirt was wrinkly and yellowed, and he looked generally untidy.
But she caught herself imagining for a split second, her arms wrapping around that back, his hot breath against the nape of her shoulder as sweet nothings were being whispered into her ear and his hands explored-
She stood up abruptly, and went to her room, ensuring to lock the door before opening a Tear and squealing inside of it.
She needed to tell him soon or she'll go crazy.
"Huh, she didn't touch her breakfast today. Is she okay?" He muttered as he looked at the closed door of Elizabeth's room, before looking at the untouched plate on the counter.
She usually finishes her breakfast and then finishes her coffee, he muttered internally, but she only drank half a cup of coffee and didn't even eat.
Something's definitely wrong, he concluded, but since she hasn't really mentioned anything of the sort recently, he couldn't really do anything without intruding into her personal life.
He looked at the bag of chicken in his hands.
Guess I'll prepare slightly more for her later. She'll need the extra energy.
