she pulls up.
i get in.
we go for tea.
we glance at each other over our padded cups, steaming and bubbling.
chatting, we find the words come easily.
if we don't speak we're okay. the silence isn't uncomfortable.
i rub her arm, poke her playfully.
she smiles, perhaps with adoration. she likes me and doesn't hide it.
i like her too.
pupils dilated, joints pointing at one another, leaning forward.
we are what we are.
i was afraid this would happen.
of course, it did happen, but that's okay.
seems it was the right thing all along.
i had orange spice.
she had lemon.