Treat You Better - Day 59 // s.m.

III

Day 6

The city was awake far before my eyes would blink open against the breaking dawn through the blinds of the window.

Talk to her. You have to say something today.

I have to say something today.

The moment I step out of my apartment door, I was half relieved, half disappointed upon noticing she was not outside; where I expected her to be. I sigh yet again, loud and long, retracting the words I had rehearsed in my head over and over.

I lock the door behind me, and as I turn around to start down the hallway, a small object on the ground caught my attention.

As I inched closer, I could see it was a thin piece of material, appearing a dark, mixed shade of green. I bent down to pick it up, pulling my backpack off and setting it down beside me, it's top pocket still unzipped. As it separated from one end to the other, I suddenly realized it was only a neck scarf.

Given that it was well into spring and all knew summer was right around the corner, this was strange to me. She must've dropped it from one of the boxes she was carrying from her car late last night.

Any brave man who had a crush on a girl would see this as the perfect opportunity to strike up a conversation. A shy smile, followed by the charming lip bite as he would hand it over, leaning in her doorway as he mumbles, "you seemed to have dropped your scarf."

But I am not brave. I'm most certainly cowardice, and there was no way I could manage enough boldness to step out like that.

I stare down at the linen scarf in my hands, wondering what I should do. Leave it? She'll probably discover it when she steps out the door. What if she doesn't step out, though? What if something happened?

Maybe I should check on her and make sure.

But wait, what if she's totally fine? Then I would look weird and all worried about her. So perhaps I should just leave it.

Am I overthinking this?

Just then, the door next to mine creaked open, and her familiar voice fills my ears all at once.

"It's okay, I promise. I shouldn't have said what I said in the first place," she apologizes to her male companion, who followed her out the door.

I panic, and without thinking twice, shove the scarf into the top pocket of my backpack.

She looks my way, noticing me crouched on the dirty, dusty cement floor.

"Oh, hey," she waves with the slightest of gesture, obviously in a much better, more positive mood than our last encounter. "Morning."

Crap. That was my line.

"Morning," I repeat, pretending to finish off the laces of my left shoe by pulling them tight-- luckily, they were coming loose.

She gives me a small smile before turning back towards Skelly behind her and planting a small kiss on his bony cheek.

"I'll see you after work," she grins in a way that was seemingly contagious, because it spread to the face of Skelly, and then, gradually, to me.

He gives her a small nod and kisses her back, and it was then, when I let out yet another sigh without meaning to, that I realized I had been awkwardly standing here watching them for much too long.

I force myself to turn the other way, starting down the hallway, adjusting my backpack over my shoulder.

The sky was still awaking itself, the sun rising slowly over the hill with its vibrant colors appearing to be spilled across the sky, not enough time or energy to clean itself up. Single murky raindrops dripped from the gutters of the roof like tears plopping from your puffy eyes to your damp throw pillow. Those were the days, weren't they? When you were forced to muffle your sobs so your parents couldn't hear you from the next room.