Mary Without Sound
With Perfect Sound You Bring Me Down: 3
11. For the First Time in a Long Time
“Are you ever going to tell me who Casey is?” she asks, as we walk down the street.
“Does it matter?” I ask guardedly.
Why should it?
“Does she?” she echoes nonchalantly.
Why should she?
“You know, you’ve only been talking about a week, and you’re managing to drive me insane sooner than I thought possible,” I mumble to her, readjusting the sleeves of my jacket.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” she states with a cheesy smile, patting my arm.
“We’re here,” I announce, successfully throwing her off topic. I steer her in the right direction with a hand on her arm, right into my favorite record store, where we get lost for a few hours.
When we finally decide to head home, I have a few more records than I really need, and I’ve even convinced her to buy one for herself.
I place my new purchases carefully on the desk in my music room so I can put them in their proper places later.
When I turn back around, she’s closely examining my favorite Superchunk LP.
“Casey bought that for me,” I say. It kind of just slips out of my mouth without my realizing it. She glances at me with curiosity in her eyes, but she doesn’t question me.
There’s this weird awkward pause in our conversation where words are at my lips and I know I don’t want to spill them but a part of me can’t deal with keeping it in anymore.
“Casey is- was my fiancée,” I say, and her eyes flick up to meet mine in confused shock.
“Was…?” she repeats softly.
“She left me a few weeks before the wedding,” I admit, and it’s a little weird to say, because I haven’t talked about it to anyone.
I don’t mean to spin my sob story, but I do feel better.
Mary gets this look on her face like she’s depressed for me. On anyone else, that look would piss me off, but this is Mary. For some reason it’s okay, because she understands.
“Matt…” she says speechlessly, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I’ve already said too much. I don’t know if I regret sharing yet.
Before I can try to unstick it, she startles me by wrapping her arms around my middle and burying her face in my shirt. My heart rate picks up so loud I’m almost sure she can feel it.
And it’s kind of pathetic that I don’t know what to do for a few seconds, because I haven’t let anyone touch me like this in so long.
Finally my instincts kick in and I hug her back, resting my face in her hair.
The slight whiff of her coconut shampoo is enough to leave me dazed.
I close my eyes, and she’s so warm.
And it’s nice.
“Are you ever going to tell me who Casey is?” she asks, as we walk down the street.
“Does it matter?” I ask guardedly.
Why should it?
“Does she?” she echoes nonchalantly.
Why should she?
“You know, you’ve only been talking about a week, and you’re managing to drive me insane sooner than I thought possible,” I mumble to her, readjusting the sleeves of my jacket.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” she states with a cheesy smile, patting my arm.
“We’re here,” I announce, successfully throwing her off topic. I steer her in the right direction with a hand on her arm, right into my favorite record store, where we get lost for a few hours.
When we finally decide to head home, I have a few more records than I really need, and I’ve even convinced her to buy one for herself.
I place my new purchases carefully on the desk in my music room so I can put them in their proper places later.
When I turn back around, she’s closely examining my favorite Superchunk LP.
“Casey bought that for me,” I say. It kind of just slips out of my mouth without my realizing it. She glances at me with curiosity in her eyes, but she doesn’t question me.
There’s this weird awkward pause in our conversation where words are at my lips and I know I don’t want to spill them but a part of me can’t deal with keeping it in anymore.
“Casey is- was my fiancée,” I say, and her eyes flick up to meet mine in confused shock.
“Was…?” she repeats softly.
“She left me a few weeks before the wedding,” I admit, and it’s a little weird to say, because I haven’t talked about it to anyone.
I don’t mean to spin my sob story, but I do feel better.
Mary gets this look on her face like she’s depressed for me. On anyone else, that look would piss me off, but this is Mary. For some reason it’s okay, because she understands.
“Matt…” she says speechlessly, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I’ve already said too much. I don’t know if I regret sharing yet.
Before I can try to unstick it, she startles me by wrapping her arms around my middle and burying her face in my shirt. My heart rate picks up so loud I’m almost sure she can feel it.
And it’s kind of pathetic that I don’t know what to do for a few seconds, because I haven’t let anyone touch me like this in so long.
Finally my instincts kick in and I hug her back, resting my face in her hair.
The slight whiff of her coconut shampoo is enough to leave me dazed.
I close my eyes, and she’s so warm.
And it’s nice.
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I'm backkkkk.....for now, at least. :DThanks: yeahthatsme93.