Viola

I’m mad. I’m angry. He always does this to me. My inner voice says if he makes you angry, why are you standing here so close to him?

Shut up, I tell my inner voice. I am close. Too close. But I don’t want to move away. This is my kitchen, after all. My apartment. Well, not mine, but you know what I mean.

He’s gazing into my eyes and he’s close enough that I notice his eyes studying my face. They settle on my lips and I swallow. I lick my lips nervously before his eyes move down over my body.

I take my coffee and turn away. I move around the small island in the middle of the kitchen and head for the door. He watches me go and then picks up his coffee and follows me.

I lead the way to the living room and I’m pretty sure his eyes are on my ass. Why did I wear these shorts, I wonder?

I remain standing as I wait for him to sit down. He takes his seat on the sofa where he sat before.