Another week passed. Maite's supply of liquor was depleting. She could go on without it, but it was the cheese and bread in which she couldn't. She sighed heavily, adjusting her beret as she glanced in the mirror.
"You go in, you go out," she strategized. "And if you happen to catch her sight, you smile, say 'good day', and you march yourself right back to this apartment," she emphasized, gesturing to the floor beneath her feet.
Where you are alone, her mind derisively reminded her.
Forcing a smile, she nodded at herself in the mirror. "As it should."
She grabbed her wallet and began the short walk to the shop.
Maite's swift confident steps were hindered with trepidation as she rounded the corner. A growl of her stomach urged her onward.
"Cheese and bread," she recited to herself. "And perhaps more paint."
If you simply cannot wait, there is sustenance across the street, the silent voice tempted.
"Yes," she agreed under her breath, her gate now a leisurely stroll to the common onlooker.
With a beautiful view.
Fate presented her young, beautiful lover through the threshold of the restaurant's doors. The early morning light bathed the woman in a soft glow, illuminating her white lace dress and accentuating the subtle blush on her cheeks. Her typical pinned updo traded for a long, elegant braid, artfully woven and tied with a dark plum ribbon. Maite watched, unnoticed, as a painting danced to life in front of her.
"Yes, stunning," she agreed breathlessly with herself.
Camino turned and caught Maite's gaze. Her eyes gleamed as she fought a broad smile. Maite offered a small wave, minute and uncoordinated. Camino dipped her chin in acknowledgement and gave a subtle toss of her braid, smirking as she turned back into the building.
Yes, coffee sounds nice.
Maite shook her head, breaking the trance.
"Cheese and bread," she recited adamantly, "cheese and bread."