Muffin

Muffin
Image Credit – Ela Haney on Pexels.com

His eyes remained evasive, picking a fleeting glimpse whenever she pretended to look elsewhere.

Trembling hands vulnerably rested on the legs ducked under the table. 

Talking on the phone is so much easier; his mind suddenly raced back to the comfort of distant conversations, which suddenly felt much more comfortable yet intimate.

Their hands quickly retracted as they stroked against each other as they reached for the water jug together.

The ephemeral touch, however, remained etched on his memory as the act replayed in his head repeatedly; he knew he can never forget the soft and silky touch of her skin caressing against him.

And, now she couldn’t see him in the eye, holding them down, her mind still gloating over the first brush against his body.

They sat quietly now, staring at the table, their eyes wandering away but finding it difficult to control the urge of seeing each other’s faces.

‘What would you like to order,’ an unfamiliar voice snapped the silence as he abruptly pushed the menu towards her, while she also tried doing the same?

 ‘Coffee’

They spoke in unison, bringing about a quick smile even on the order taker’s face, a veteran of witnessing many such first dates.

‘Anything else,’ he asked, with a subtle smile.

‘I’ll have a muffin, a blueberry muffin’, she requested, glancing at him, and wondering what he might order.

‘I’ll also have a blueberry muffin,’ he said promptly.

A smile quickly appeared on their faces as he placed his request.

‘So, you also like the blueberry,’ he asked?

‘Yes,’ she nodded, replying with both her head and the eyes.

‘What else do you like,’ he asked?

She looked up; transient glances turned into a steady gaze as they finally started talking. He had no idea how a blueberry muffin would taste like, but was sure it will be delicious; it’s her choice after all.

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