I hear you sigh, once. The murmuring of lulling conversations around us, the smell of coffee and light chamomile mingling in between.
And I know that sigh, even if you didn't think I could tell the difference between it and the breaths you exhaled mere minutes ago; when we both let our laughter fade into what should've been "content silence"..
Only, this time, it looks like my Contentment is what lays you Silent.
Although I guess you, too, could tell the difference in my drifting gazes and whether I was really mind-wandering onto blank canvas, or, heading down into memory lane.. (again).
I understood that you didn't like the latter, because you know I was walking down a particular one, and (it was always) without you.
You'd never questioned me about it, though. Out of respect or your own anxiety of my answer(s) I can't really tell, but.. I'd like to think your silence is still considerate of me, so thank you. I guess.
.. ❛ｓｉｇｈ❜ ..
/Was that mine, or yours?/
I took in a breath that had me running from that lane back into reality, to that cup of House-blended brew you always ordered, to you, and to your gaze that never wandered off, waiting and never cutting through, simply fixed as it had always been; on me. Just as mine are, now, on yours. I knew you would ask soon enough.
And before you do, I hear you sigh, once.