Coffee Shop Valentine

The sunlight was pouring through the blinds and the wooden part of the floor glowed that piquant orange that showed up after playing in the park all day long. The carpet showed where the slackers forgot to finish.

She was suffering from the fallout of the nuclear family.
Her sunglasses covered her face like wasp eyes and she was interlocked with the talking suit jacket. Her hair was this blonde color and was pulled back. The suit jacket was standing by the counter looking over the talking aprons.

I hid in the corner, behind my foam cup. Hardly a sight of grace. My legs crossed under the table, yet I still felt ashamed.

I wouldn't stare, but I would certainly glance. Occasionally our eyes locked, like magnets, but the connection broke shortly afterwards. Not that it mattered.
The suit jacket sat down.
I didn't have much to say anyway. It seemed like the end of a long day. Had this been 20 years earlier, maybe we would be putting away our toys now. Had we not met for another 20 years, maybe we would be in less of a joint and more of a hangout. The sunlight reflected off her wasp eyes and sent a sparkle through my eyes and an urge to stretch down my spine.
The suit jacket said something and she smiled. It felt so wrong to watch that.
I sat back and stared at the white ceiling, searching for pictures in the patterns. My coffee had cooled down to a comfortable temperature and I took a mouthful instead of a sip. By now I'd settled in and had grown steadily.

I gave up on the picture seeking and went back to the people. Writers, corporate choir, brunettes, more couples. Yet no matter what I looked at, her and the suit jacket collected my attention. Everytime the door opened, the light poured in and the wasp eyes sparkled my direction. Goddamn myself, I thought. There was no point staring at the spotlight of the coffee shop stage. This play was melodramatic as it was.

Something changed though. The smile that once inched it's way across her face every few minutes was growing dull. Empty. A doll smile. One that captured my interest yet again. I might have grown hope that suit jackets weren't everything, though he looked great to be honest.This play was lime lighting two Hollywood stars and I was completely immersed. I wanted to take action. The suit jacket got up and headed towards the Men's sign down the hall. Now was my chance. I could say something. I could go up and see what was the situation. Here was my backstage pass to the event of the day and it was slipping away through my thin fingers.

I could come to her rescue, but what if she's not in any danger? Maybe I shouldn't be her hero and leave her alone for the prince of cosmopolitan. I grew another soul that was more useful to me. Another chance to not interfere.

But our eyes locked again. Longer this time.

I could pull her away and tell her she doesn't know who she is. She blinked twice, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, as if that actually meant something. The platitude of her eyes killed me. The case is closed, I promised myself. There was no need to throw yourself to the fire. This only adds to my evidence. My proof of an insane incident.

I looked away quickly, my head rotated and all, but I swear I could see her smile. The shadows grew long. I felt like I had played in the park all day. I sat back and breathed those breathes that made you feel important.