Michael sipped his hot cappuccino, the chocolate sprinkled froth lingering across his lips as he concentrated on his novel. He had yet to see Sara again and "See You around" was turning into never. His strong hands gripped the smooth black mug and he took another sip as he expertly turned the page of his book with his thumb. The restaurant was unusually quiet for a Tuesday but Michael didn't mind. It gave him room to think. To think of Sara.
All thought was erased from his mind as his sensitive ear picked up on a voice. A voice like liquid chocolate, hot and indulgent as it asked, "Is this seat taken?" Michael immediately smiled, placed his book once again upon the metallic table, pushed his chair backwards to stand and motioned for the voice to take a seat. The smile across his face combined with his heart fluttering in his chest, told him he had missed her.
"I can't stay long, I'm already running late," Sara told him hurriedly, causing a pang of sadness to tug at his heart. Once she had taken her seat, she shuffled the chair inwards towards the table, the sound of metal clinking with metal as the handles collided with the table edge.
"Oh" Michael tried not to sound to disappointed. She was a very welcome surprise to his mundane day so far, so he tried not to waste time with irrelevant conversation. He sat after she did, pulling his chair in towards her across the table. He rubbed his slightly sweaty hands over his thighs before leaning forward on the table, interlocking his fingers together on the tabletop.
She brushed her hand across her brow, pulling a few stray strands of her beautiful hair from her beautiful face and tucked them forcefully behind her ear. Her bag slipped from her shoulder and landed with a thud on the floor and she sat with her hands pressed together in between her knees. "I am on my way back to the hospital," she told him.
Michael's hands were turning white before he realised he had been squeezing them together with nerves. He tried to find something to say but no words came out. He was dumbfounded by her beauty as she sat across from him in the empty restaurant.
"Listen," she said in a quick demanding tone as she took one of his hands roughly, turning it so the palm faced her. Her pen tickled as she drew her telephone number onto his palm and then held his hand, giving it a small squeeze. Michael watched her, fascinated by her every move. Her every move that sent his mind racing with so many thoughts and images he got lost in so often. "Call me later?" she caught his gaze.
Was that a question? An instruction? Michael wasn't sure but before he could register her words properly he hand slipped from his and she grabbed her bag from the floor, pushed her chair across the soft carpeted restaurant floor and stood. Michael stood opposite her and glanced at the number on his hand. "Uh…ok," he blinked, giving her a nervous smile between short needed breaths. Her face beamed with joy as she left the restaurant, turning to give him a short wave as she did.
Michael thought about her for the rest of the day. He thought about how her hands felt, and how warm they were, comforting, safe. He thought about how she smiled to him, for him, and how much of an incoherent idiot he must have looked. He knew she found his demeanour around her amusing. She had the power and she knew it.
Michael took a scrap of paper from a notepad on his desk and ever so carefully copied the number from his palm onto it. It was a cell number, an instant contact to Sara wherever she was. Glancing at his watch he noted the time was too early for her to home from work yet, and besides, he didn't want to look too eager did he? He would shower first.
Michael liked the feeling of the water beating down on his skin. It was warm and it reminded him of Sara. The water made his fingertips softer then usual and somewhat crinkled in appearance. Again he thought of Sara and her sensitive touch, the way her fragile fingers glided over his smooth yet manly skin, electrifying his soul.
Stepping from the shower, he ran a damp hand across the condensation that had settled across his mirror. He stared at himself for a long while, sighing to himself. Michael just had to admit it. Sara was on his mind, she was all he could think about, and she was all he did think about. The air between his small bathroom and the larger bedroom was cooled, rushing his body as he opened the door between them. Reaching the telephone he picked up the receiver in one hand and dialled Sara's number with the other.
The connection was made with a slight crackle on the line and after a few seconds it began to ring. Three rings later another crackle established a connection. Michael breathed in suddenly, his skin prickling with excitement.
"Hey Sara, it's Michael" he breathed into the mouthpiece.