"I wouldn't want to, I'm not. . .any fun," I said, tugging a curl that was not there behind my ear just out of habit. I tended to my glass of water to wash down my meal. The interior was of course as intimate and dimly lit as any high-end sushi bar and decorated in a minimalistic modern style which followed this subtly traditional yet modern aesthetic, hence the beautiful glistening black ceramic plate where my food had been laid quite beautifully. We held a table just by the door and got a pinch of the noise of the city as people came in and still were greeted by the soft sounds which were soft throughout the restaurant.
The weather was soft to my eyes and it felt so as the air was less dry and less hot–it felt comfortable. Though the whole bar was soothingly cool and I had eaten my share of delicious sushi enough and I still had some of it left on my plate. To be honest, I was barely a fish person as much as the food was delicious and I couldn't wash it down with wine as I still had to return to the office.
I put my chopsticks down and reached for the soft napkin to wipe my mouth as I finished off. "And I'm babysitting."
I was more than happy since my excuse was the truth and I wasn't any fun, I wasn't kidding her. I wasn't the clubbing type and I didn't want to go on further about how utterly boring I had been my entire life. Maybe I had been somewhat better in college and had stood relatively social to some level–I didn't have it in me anymore, unfortunately. I had my urine yellow walls and crime television shows to haunt me throughout the night. This type of life was all I could bear with and I didn't feel uncomfortable with it. It just came naturally for me to just watch serial killers and gangbangers than going out with other women my age–maybe my sister had been right.
Her eyes were bright though they held this sharpness to them as if she could see past my pathetic excuses and held the truth at the grasps of her dark irises.
Her chopsticks went on her plate as she placed them down.
Her hair was tied into a luscious ponytail that held in place and made way for her pale face to glow in a way that good genes could get a face to. Her soft chin was slightly pointed and round despite its smallness with a touch of slight chubbiness which made her seem so much younger than she was.
"How about. . .we make lunch a regular thing?" Her eyes shone as she said this.
"I don't mind, just don't waste your time with Daniel with me," I said, offering her a soft smile.
"I won't," she said, pretty little dimples prominent against her slightly plump cheeks. "I just enjoyed this lunch."
I didn't feel I was that awful that someone might actually hate me without reason, whether it was fair or not, and therefore I didn't understand the fact that she was comfortable around me. Worse was that she wanted to spend more time with me and maybe it had everything to do with the fact that I didn't have any female companions as of late, because the whole thing of making friends had gotten difficult as I got older–I wasn't used to a woman being this okay with me from the get-go. There was always an issue there and it had gotten to the point that I had just chosen to hang with my sisters to keep away from the drama. Not that men were any better either. They either were after a wife and an accessory or in hopes of getting me to drop my panties fast enough.
"You sure though?" I found my eyebrows knitting together.
"Why? You don't think I'm being sincere?" Her left eyebrow lifted and she stared right at me from across the long table with a neat marble finish.
I didn't know whether she was upset or just pulling my leg, either way, I was just concerned with how that must have sounded. "I meant. . .as in you enjoy my company that much?"
Her smile was soft. "I do."
"I never get that," I said, shaking my head.
"What usually happens?" Her questioning caught me off guard that I frowned but was quick as I shielded it with a smile, forced or not. I reached for my glass of water and gulped down almost half of it.
"I'm usually. . .warned," I said, putting the glass down after a gulp.
Her eyebrow shot up in a way that was quite elegant as she leaned back on the chair. "They usually think you're after their men?"
"It never is the truth, but–"
"But you know how we women get," she stepped in, offering me a soft smile that of course brought out those dimples of hers. "I don't think that, however."
Her eyes were like gemstones as they stared at me or maybe through me, I couldn't tell. Miranda had one of those oddly blackened irises and they made her seem quite sharp and almost overwhelmingly observant as if by just staring at you she could learn absolutely everything about you. I didn't actually like feeling under her observation but I didn't want to openly display discomfort as if I had something shady to hide.
"How could you?" I laughed.
Her eyes narrowed at me. "Are you as confident about me?"
"About what? You're absolutely beautiful and–"
"Is it my beauty then?" Her eyebrow lifted.
"I'd be chilled too if I had a man who looked at me the way yours looks at you," I said, quickly.
Her eyes brightened further as she reached for her glass of water, smiling. "You are an attractive woman, by the way."
"If you say so," I snorted, heading for my glass of water again.
Her eyes lit up as the glass met the table. "But it's true, I'm not the type of woman to lie."
I didn't know, again, if she was trying to test me or if I had just offended her with my comment. The fact that she had on a red blouse did not help me either as it brought out her paleness leaving her eyes so intense as they practically bore into me. I didn't know where to look but I was certain I couldn't stare away from her–it was rude. I shifted in my seat as I pretended to be concerned with my empire-waisted and slightly loose pants.
"Are you seeing anyone?" Her pretty yet harsh eyes remained bright as she asked.
I almost choked as I gulped down the last of my water. It had been so long since I had been asked that, then again it had been ages since I had gone out.
I wasn't going to get nervous since this was just a question. "I'm divorced."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's just that most people usually go there. . .and in my way I was trying to get you to warm up to me," Miranda said, her eyebrows slightly furrowed together and her eyes softer.
"Usually, I hate saying it out loud," I admitted, planting my hands on top of the table as I lifted my head and looked at her. "I don't know, I must've warmed up to you then."
"I like hearing that," she said.
I let out a soft laugh. "You say it as if we need to get along."
I couldn't read the look in her eyes but before I could try any harder a smile climbed onto her face and softened her eyes. "It is."
"I don't like getting into the details but. . .it ended badly and I can't say it wasn't my fault either," I said, letting out a sigh as I admitted to this woman what I had been trying to deny all this time. "I've accepted it."
Her eyes softened further as she offered me a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure there's someone out there for you."
"I doubt it. . .and I'm not saying it to be cynical but I'm done with relationships. . .currently," I said, going for my hair despite knowing full well it was tired neatly on top of my head and couldn't even attempt to tumble out of place.
"Even friendships?" Miranda pouted playfully.
"It might be open to that." I laughed.
Her eyes stayed with mine with that same look still dancing there somehow, even as I chose to just let it pass as no big deal. Then her lips parted and dimples curled against her cheeks as her eyes lit up. "I was getting tired of being around my aunts."
"Why? They might be more interesting than me." I folded my arms as I leaned forward against the table.
"I doubt it," she said flat out, shaking her head of luscious raven hair. "You have no idea how they are, they. . .are the only friends I've got."
"You?" I found my left brow arching immediately.
"Yeah, you're my only hope at proving my aunts wrong." Miranda folded her hands together before herself and stared out of the window with this slightly empty look in her eyes. "They think I try too hard."
I found myself reaching for her hand. "Maybe that's your magic."
Her eyes brightened up. "You think?"
"I'm a bit. . .what can I say? Distant and I'm not good at feelings," I said, still holding her hand the way that my older sister liked to hold mine and not looking away from her eyes. "Maybe that's the whole point."
"I push and you pull? Isn't that a little pointless?" Her eyebrows creased together.
"I don't know, but. . .you're the first person in a long time who's liked me the first time they saw me," I said, not meaning to sound so pitiful and desperate. "It must be more than pointless."
Her eyes lit up as a child would at the prospect of an adventure. "I guess it sounds nicer that way."
"It is." I nodded.