"Can I have a fry? They look good today."
She leans forward, hand perched over the spuds like a vulture.
"No," he chuckles, swatting her hand away. "I asked and you said you didn't want any." His eyes don't move from the dripping burger in his other hand.
She looks at him, an indescribable amount of emotion behind her eyes, past her mind.
"I think we should break up"
The words fall quickly, an alarm cutting through the oblivion of night.
He coughs at the remark, eyes finally meeting hers.
"What? Why? Because I didn't share my fries?"
"Yes," she sighs, eyes falling to the basket of fish in front of her, short, peeling nails picking at the fried skin. "And other things."
"Like what?"
The restaurant falls silent as the last patron closes the door behind them. Alone, he stares at her busy fingers.
"I just don't see myself marrying you." She breaks off a crispy edge of the filet, popping it in her mouth, teeth grinding the uncertainty in her words to a pulp.
"Ah," he chuckles, slapping the table in emphasis, "guess I should return the ring, huh?"
He takes a sip of his drink, avoiding her eyes in fear of what his own might betray.
"I'm serious," she pushes back from the table, effectively rattling the salt, pepper, and the tension's quickly growing foundation.
He can only shake his head, suddenly unsure of how to respond, debating on whether it would even be in his best interest to try.
Finally, "why here? Why now? What did I do? Or not do, say or not say? Is there anything..." he throws his hands up in exasperation, reaching for an answer in the thick air.
"You see this?" she motions to the space between them in the booth, to each other. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel," she claws at her chest as if to dislodge the answers they both were searching for, "like I am failing both of us"
"Ah, don't give me that," he chomps on another fry, "You go do what you need, without me, if you must, and I'll be here. Holding the ring and everything."
He grins, eyes full of her. There would never be enough to hold it, all the parts of her soul. Who would want to? There would be nowhere else to go.
She leans forward, hand perched over the spuds like a vulture.
"No," he chuckles, swatting her hand away. "I asked and you said you didn't want any." His eyes don't move from the dripping burger in his other hand.
She looks at him, an indescribable amount of emotion behind her eyes, past her mind.
"I think we should break up"
The words fall quickly, an alarm cutting through the oblivion of night.
He coughs at the remark, eyes finally meeting hers.
"What? Why? Because I didn't share my fries?"
"Yes," she sighs, eyes falling to the basket of fish in front of her, short, peeling nails picking at the fried skin. "And other things."
"Like what?"
The restaurant falls silent as the last patron closes the door behind them. Alone, he stares at her busy fingers.
"I just don't see myself marrying you." She breaks off a crispy edge of the filet, popping it in her mouth, teeth grinding the uncertainty in her words to a pulp.
"Ah," he chuckles, slapping the table in emphasis, "guess I should return the ring, huh?"
He takes a sip of his drink, avoiding her eyes in fear of what his own might betray.
"I'm serious," she pushes back from the table, effectively rattling the salt, pepper, and the tension's quickly growing foundation.
He can only shake his head, suddenly unsure of how to respond, debating on whether it would even be in his best interest to try.
Finally, "why here? Why now? What did I do? Or not do, say or not say? Is there anything..." he throws his hands up in exasperation, reaching for an answer in the thick air.
"You see this?" she motions to the space between them in the booth, to each other. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel," she claws at her chest as if to dislodge the answers they both were searching for, "like I am failing both of us"
"Ah, don't give me that," he chomps on another fry, "You go do what you need, without me, if you must, and I'll be here. Holding the ring and everything."
He grins, eyes full of her. There would never be enough to hold it, all the parts of her soul. Who would want to? There would be nowhere else to go.