Back at the Restaurant | Constrained Writing Contest #12

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Little did he know that she knew not just little of his secret (well, "secret". He had optimistic tendencies) and while "a lot" would be hyperbole she was beginning to make sense out of his nonsensical behaviour. What once was regarded sweetly as a playful, roguish smile turned into a knowing, teasing taunt, teeth towards her but his eye's resting anywhere but her own.

When did love turn to comfort? Were they exclusive? Was it a natural progression? Could said progression, though natural, have polar opposite conclusions? That irrational resentment that builds particularly quick when justified resentment is absent, funny how it's all the more destructive. Perhaps less violent, but more destructiuve. This particular him and her both held gender-neutral resentments: why didn't you make me happy? Perhaps the Other then: why couldn't I make you happy? But what difference does said difference make, more than semantics yes but not by much.

How bizarre restaurants used to be a place of excitement, new relationships, their relationship. In his youth (though he's still a youth he will likely never feel as such again) he was such a bizarre mix of shyness and passion, she remembers how his eyes practically leapt from their consciously cautious lids when she brought up... uh, christ a TV show was it? Doesn't matter. She remembered how he would lose himself in impassioned rambles that somehow were more endearing than obnoxious, remembered how that slight difference in intonation when he asked the questions, the one where his eyes didnt go blank as soon as her lips opened, a slight twitch of tongue in tone turning white noise to conversation, conversation with eye contact, commentary, conversation where he actually seemed to give a fuck about what she said. And her he. Real laughter. Slightly too high pitched like real laughter is. She remembered how she used to laugh until her stomach hurt, both with him and her friends, and remembered how difficult it was to remember that. She remembered his eyes, the same ones as now, but different. Very much so.

But that was at the restaurant.

Little did they know.


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This is my entry to Constrained Writing Contest #12

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