I Swear I Heard Your Voice

Silence: I hate it, I can't stand it, I don't like it. It inevitably engulfed me as I sat at the small corner table of the local Starbucks. My foot tapped impatiently on the stone cold tiled floor; eagerly, it tried to break the silence. The fingers of my hands began defrosting from the Portland air I had been drenched in outside. The cafe was near empty. At one table sat a sleepless man, typing away at the keyboard of his laptop. Two teenage girls sat at a table directly across from me. Their eyes were fixated on me, tracing disgust over my tattooed skin.

"I just want to get out of here." I grumbled to myself. No one can ever understand that even Oliver Sykes can be self-conscious. My head hung down, staring at my hands as I avoided any eye contact.

"Gingerbread latte." My order was called by the man over the counter.

I tilted my head back up and pushed myself from my seat. I counted my footsteps as I walked to the counter: eleven. Steam rose from the large cup of gingerbread goodness and filled my nose. But as I reached for the steaming cup, my hand stopped in mid-grab. Somebody else’s hand had reached for my coffee.

My eyes jumped from my hand to the others. Her nails were chewed down to the point of no return. My glance wandered from the chewed nails, to her smooth arms, quickly past her perfectly rounded breasts, finally stopping at her illuminating sea-foam green eyes. A large lump formed in my throat, and I was unable to speak.

“Um.” I choked into my fist. “I’m sorry."

The intensity of her eyes seemed to lure me in with every second. The color seemed brighter the longer I stared.

In return she stared back at me blankly, her eyes wandering over my body. It caused a feeling of violation to roll through my mind. My feet refused to step away from the stranger, leaving me like a deer in headlights. No words came from her sealed lips as we stood in dead silence.

In pure frustration I spoke up again. "I'm sorry." I repeated.

The corners of the girl's lips rose into a small smile. As if on cue, a vibration erupted through the silence. Thank you, God. The girl hesitantly pulled the vibrating cellphone from the pocket of her waist high skirt. In less time than I could speak up, she was gone, carrying my gingerbread latte with her.

Quickly, she waved a hand over her shoulder for a good-bye, and probably a thank you for letting her take the coffee. The sharp heels that gave her a good four inches clicked against the tile as she sashayed out of the building.

"Sir, yours will be right up." With the announcement, I snapped back into reality, shaking my head lightly to clear my thoughts.

"Thanks." I smirked. Yet my eyes were incapable of pulling themselves from the girl pacing down the pavement outside. Her long hazelnut hair trailed behind her in the wind.

Wait, what just happened?