Daisie
Strangely regular (better than the usual bizarre!)
To prove once and for all that I am better than
capMARVELOUS
.
There was a distinct bite to the wind that morning. It was the kind that scraped over the cheek like sandpaper as it passed. The kind that forecasted a serious storm. Matthew always respected the weatherman for trying his best, but let's just say that when they'd predicted temperatures in the 60's, every local knew that that was practically a surefire call for a thick, wintry coat on the way out the door. Buds in his ears with a gangly string running into the back pocket of his jeans, he selected a playlist, threw up his puffy hood, and strolled down the sidewalk with his eyes closed, knowing the directions by heart. There was nothing to see but gray skies, grimy streets, and rushing cars in the dim dawn anyways. He found none of it worthwhile, and hugged the right edge of the sidewalk in every step.
The chill only got worse as Matthew approached his bus stop, but fortunately the city had installed a cover awhile back. Glass partitions on three sides wrapped around a cold metal bench. He was relieved to be sheltered from the wind, but as he sat down, his music cut out with a stomach-dropping CRACK.
He swore under his breath. He knew he was an idiot. This wasn't even the first time this had happened.
Knowing full well what the outcome would be, his hand tore into his pocket as if haste could fix it. He drew out his sad, broken mp3 player, tiny screen cracked and unlit. No emusic to cover up the loud whir of the busy road in front of him. At least it couldn't get worse.
It promptly got worse.
Someone was approaching. No one ever approached. He hopped on this same bus at the same time every weekday, and each time, he was ALWAYS alone. He'd curse his poor luck if his heart wasn't already pounding so stupidly hard. He only hoped that the earbuds in his ears made his lack of interest clear, avoiding even looking in their direction as they plopped themselves next to him on the bench.
It was silent. Really PAINFULLY silent. Was this what waiting at the stop was normally like, without any sort of music or distraction? It was surreal. Crushing, almost.
"Th-That thing still work?" She commented somewhat loudly to battle the road noise.
He pretended not to hear the woman next to him, stubbornly refusing to even glance.
More. Agonizing. Silence. It tore him up worse by the second. At least he was warm now, but was that bit really worth it?
"Um, sorry, what?" Matthew eventually relented in a soft voice, feigning inattention. He pulled out an earbud to sell the act even more, expression innocent.
As he looked over at her, the realization slammed into him that she looked unrelentingly, pitifully ice-cold. Her pale, albeit toned arms wrapped around herself, serving as her only shelter besides her tank top and sportswear. She even had her long and straight chestnut hair bound up in a high ponytail. Like a fish out of water.
She shook her head apologetically and brought a hand away from her bicep to point at the mp3 player, still nestled in his palm. "S-Sorry, I didn't kn-know you were listening to anything o-on that."
"O-Oh." He stuttered, but hoped to play it off as from the chill. "No, yeah. It's broken."
She blinked. "Oh. Okay."
Why did he wait so long to answer her, then?! He drew his eyes forcefully back to the gray sidewalk, violently regretting ever coming out of his house that day. Shamefully, he plucked out his other earbud and stuffed the rest of the wires into his pants pocket, dismissing the agonizing tangle he'd have to solve later.
Another silence settled in. Normally he might feel slightly pressured fill it with something, but he had just discovered a newfound motivation to keep his mouth welded shut. A couple minutes passed.
"SERIOUSLY?!" She suddenly broke, causing Matt to jump. An electric panic coursed through his body all at once as he stared at her, but as it turned out, her eyes were elsewhere.
"Guy on the news said it was gonna be SUNNY today!" She elaborated, her fury set on a drifting snowflake as she sat back and crossed her arms indignantly. "This is ridiculous. Snow."
Matthew may have been the more protected against the elements of the two, but that didn't keep him from feeling frozen in place. If his mind could make noise, it would be a screeching of dial-up internet. She wasn't upset at HIM, was she? His jaw clamped shut tighter as he wholly convinced himself that uttering a single word would get him into trouble, like a kid smart-talking a teacher. Yet somehow, some way...
"It's the weather guy," his voice was a low mutter, barely loud enough to be heard over the traffic. The toe of his sneaker pressed against the other. "Everyone knows he's horrible at his job."
He was shocked to hear a delightful little laugh. It was hoarse, with a chortle. Something about it seemed to nestle into his chest, despite it coming from her.
"Ya don't say! Kinda wish I got the memo on that." The stranger commented with a grin on her face. He noticed her smile curl into a crinkled sneer around the bridge of her nose, dusted with light freckles. "Let me guess. Nepotism hire, right?"
"Ah-heh. Yeah. Something like that."
Once again, the chatter drifted into the wind as Matthew pulled his eyes down and away again, allowing his hood to cut between himself and her.
Even within a few minutes of waiting there at the stop, the snowflakes began to fall faster, skipping against the ground before finally stacking into a thin white blanket just beyond the stop's shelter.
The guilt began to drip down Matthew's throat as the poor woman next to him - who he didn't even know the name of - was quietly rattling the bench with her shivering, a patchy redness stuck to her cheeks. She blew out a long breath through circled lips, watching it condense into a frozen mist. He felt his anxiety gradually become legitimate. This was frostbite kind of weather.
He couldn't work any words from his throat, but he was compelled enough to slide his shoulders out from the sleeves of his coat. With only a flick of the eye towards her, and with his hand in a nervous fist around its collar, he handed her the dark coat.
He flinched as she immediately snatched it out of his hands as if she'd been coveting it greatly the entire time they'd been seated. "Ugh, thank you!"
She slid the coat over the tops of her arms hurriedly, curling up in its residual warmth with a shudder of relief. He figured he was already getting a bit too warm, anyways, his chest still pounding faster than his destroyed tunes.
"I mean, I was gonna ASK you for it if you weren't gonna offer," she suddenly broke the silence again, a cheeky grin on her face with the same crinkle to her reddened nose.
With no response from Matthew but a slight smile and huff of acknowledgement, the snow began to torrent down more, thickening the air in white ice. It dulled the road noise just barely, especially as traffic began to slow, enveloping the two in a bit more peace. Even then, Matthew never found himself quite comfortable. He chose to lean forward, elbows resting on his knees. That's what chill guys did, right? People who didn't care what other people thought of them? He wondered what she thought of it. He kept his eyes off of her, but without his hood over his head, he could catch her looking at him in his peripheral. Was it horrible that he wished he had that coat back? Could he even ask for it back without seeming like a gigantic jerk? Would he EVER get it back?
After a few minutes of the snow piling up to an inch, the next sound from her was a deep sigh. Her hands poked out through the front of the jacket, reaching up to the back of her head. She undid the tie around her hair, letting long locks fall across her jacketed shoulders.
"What's your name, then?" She asked, bringing her hair tie into her jacket fortress. He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut in before he could. "Matthew?"
Suddenly his gaze, shedding its shyness all at once, snapped onto her. She KNEW him. Panicked pupils fluttered from inch to inch across her expression, frantically scanning for any recognizable features. Who was she, where did she know him from, and how long has he-
She burst out into another fit of chortling laughter. "It's stitched in your jacket, dumbass."
A rapid, red flush slammed onto his cheeks, and the brief, sudden huff of surprised laughter that slipped from his lungs shocked even himself. It fueled her own chuckling.
"Hah!" Her voice suddenly prodded. "So you can laugh! Cross that off my list."
"List?" His question came without even a thought as he shook his head, still recovering.
She grinned, suddenly delighted as if she'd been waiting YEARS to be asked that exact question. "I've got this list of goals whenever I go somewhere new. Anywhere new. First, strike up conversation with a local. Second, make a stranger laugh. Third, add a new number to my contacts."
"Ah, so... you're not from around here?" Another question? This was so unlike him, he wondered briefly if there was something wrong with him. Wait, what was that third item?!
She shook her head, hair dragging into her face only to be brushed aside. "I'm new-ish. Moved up here from a small town down south. Wanted to get away from my family a bit - no offense to them! Just... gotta be my own person out here. See what it's like. You feel me?"
Pressing his lips together, Matthew nodded gently, eyes now attentive to her as he relinquished his hunched posture to sit himself back. He couldn't help but feel a little startled that she'd share so much a total stranger at a bus stop, but at the same time, something about that freeness set him at ease. Like there were no secrets worth keeping, with her. When he turned his head to study the snow again, it was more of a curious wander than a reclusive yank.
As a few more minutes pressed on, his brow very gradually began to squeeze upwards in concern, more apparent the longer the wait became. The snow was seriously piling, now, two or three more inches having dumped in an alarming time.
Once in a while he managed to offer a glance towards the fascinating stranger, his mind still stuck on their conversation. Stuck on his curiosity, and and how nice it felt to just... talk. Most of the time, it felt like he had to carefully construct his sentences to manufacture a way out of the conversation, but here, his words just floated from his throat with such ease. It felt nice. He wanted to try it a little more.
"I think the, uhh... weather guy's probably getting fired this time," he meagerly contributed.
"Oh, if he isn't fired, I'm coming over to whoop him, myself."
A grin spread across Matt's face instinctually. "Uhm-yeah. Kind of looks like you could, too."
His eyes shot open in immediate regret. So THAT was the consequence of not thinking first.
Before he could craft any excuses or apologies for himself, the woman let out a knowing, confident sort of laugh. "Darn right, I could. Don't you forget it, either. In this weather, he'll be my hockey puck out in the middle of the road, right?"
Her causality was so infectious. As his mind slowly turned away from its own internal punishments, the grin sprouted back onto his face unconsciously. Teetering out into instinct one more time, he reached a hand out towards the road in a sliding gesture as he imitated the scraping of ice. "Kshhhhhh, there he goes, just like that."
There was an amused chuckle shared between the two that seemed to cut through the cold, and as it dissipated, he glanced down at his broken music player thoughtfully, wondering to himself if he'd ever have done any of this had it not been broken... Or if he'd ever feel this comfortable again.
"So, uh... what's your name?" He asked, turning his curious gaze back to her as he fiddled with the player in his chilled hands. "If that's not, uh... yeah, weird."
She snorted with an endeared expression before putting on a faux serious look. "Wow. Really? A name already? You must be getting pretty serious, you sure you don't wanna wait another week?"
Although a zap of anxiety travelled up his spine, he still found a self-aware laugh in his chest, grasping to her humor. Still, he couldn't stop the instinct to mutter a quick and quiet "S-Sorry, uhhh..."
"Amelia." She cut in before poking a hand out from her coat tent in offering. "I go by Amy, though. You Matthew, still?"
He paused... Then shook her hand, his grip loose.
"Matt. Or Matthew, yeah, if you want. You can, uh... call me whatever."
"Alright, Mr. Whatever." She laughed quietly at her own joke, suddenly grabbing his hand tightly in both of her own and jarring it up and down teasingly. That was before a shiver coaxed her to retract back inwards, pulling the coat tighter around her. "Funny question, Matt. Do you have any idea when the bus gets here?"
"Uh-yeah. It usually gets here around 8:30."
She fidgeted beneath his coat for a second to draw out a small flip phone. Upon opening, it read "8:46".
It shook him a little. Had he actually been sitting there with her for that long? He figured he'd be counting down the minutes before he could get on with his day, but getting on that bus had somehow migrated to be the last thing on his mind.
"Think it's stuck out there?" She asked, slapping her phone shut.
"Kinda seems like it," he answered. "Are you... late for anything?"
"No, I just wanted to go-..." She cut herself off, as if making a huge realization. After a pause, she let out a disappointed sigh. "On a hike. Probably should have taken the hint when the snow started coming down, huh?"
"Wow, wait hah, so... what exactly were you gonna do when the bus got here?" He inquired with a surprised but amused smile.
"I don't know!" She threw her hands up in the air. Which, being restricted by the coat, only amounted to poking her fingers up through the part down the middle. She smiled widely though, clearly just as entertained by herself. "Probably wait for a bus back home? I guess foresight isn't my thing. Don't you judge me."
Matt's chuckle waned faster into silence than usual this time, as did her own. There was an odd, quiet intimacy surrounding that bus stop as the traffic from the road became sparse. He watched her carefully, in consideration... had she genuinely just been sticking around to chat with him?
Earlier that morning, it would have sounded like a nightmare, so he had to wonder why it didn't feel quite so bad just then.
The longer she sat out with him, though, the more it felt unusual to keep her there. Selfish, even. The bus clearly wasn't coming. It was freezing cold out and the snow was only getting worse. Was it even safe for her to get home? There was a guilty knot working its way into his stomach.
"How about you? Are you late for anything?" She piped up again, oblivious.
"Oh-uh, No. I mean... I had work, but my boss kind of takes any opportunity he can to get out of it. So I don't think anyone's actually going in today."
"So we're both just kinda sittin' here."
"Yeah, heh."
"Waitin' around."
"Yup."
"Waitin' on a bus that's probably given up... And would have to take us back, anyway."
"That's us."
"So are you gonna ask me for my number then, or am I just gonna have to freeze a couple toes off out here, first?"
"-?!"
Matt practically choked on his own spit.
Evidently, the look on his face was enough to send Amy into a fit of laughter. She leaned forward in a hoot, marching her feet against the ground in rapid delight.
"Come on!" She goaded when she finally pulled herself back upright. "You're already two for three on my list, so I'm gonna have to get some other weirdo's number if it's not yours."
"Well, I-uh, th-... Kinda..." He stumbled over words that only served as filler nonsense to buy him more time to think. His shoes ground against each other as he trailed to silence, caught up in overwhelm.
Yet as he willed himself to stop and think, his mind fighting against the pounding in his heart, he glanced at her again to find a look of eager anticipation. Excitement. Right then, he discovered a pleasant smile of his own, meek and pleading.
"O-... Okay."
"Well, good," she nodded, huffing a frozen puff of triumph. "Then go on ahead."
"Uhh... G-Go on and what...?"
"Ask."
He fell to silence, a redness painted on his cheeks both by the cold and the heat.
"So... A-... Amelia..." Matthew began, swallowing cold, dry air. "... Can I... actually have your number...?"
It sounded more like a meek confirmation of reality than a request, as if testing the waters for lies. He expected a laugh in response. A joke. Even just a smile... but her expression suddenly lacked any of her usual playfulness he'd grown to know. Instead she looked fully focused on him, eyes locked.
"Yeah... Of course you can." Her voice was warm and full of understanding. It eased the tension in his neck and shoulders.
"O-Okay. Yeah... that would be really nice."
It was then that she finally smiled at him, with a tilt of her head. He smiled back.
Matthew felt bad about taking his coat back, but no matter how much he assured Amelia that it was fine for her to keep, she insisted twice as hard that she really only lived around the corner, and she wasn't in any danger getting home. She was difficult to say no to.
The two exchanged numbers, and as they parted ways from the stop, he slipped the coat back over his shoulders, a soft pink hue rising to his cheeks as he felt its remnant warmth. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked down the center of the sidewalk, but was surprised to find a little elastic hair band in his pocket.
Just then, as they were barely out of sight of each other in the whirling snow, his phone buzzed. A message.
"left my hair band with u. can i pick it up same time tmrrw?"
capMARVELOUS
.There was a distinct bite to the wind that morning. It was the kind that scraped over the cheek like sandpaper as it passed. The kind that forecasted a serious storm. Matthew always respected the weatherman for trying his best, but let's just say that when they'd predicted temperatures in the 60's, every local knew that that was practically a surefire call for a thick, wintry coat on the way out the door. Buds in his ears with a gangly string running into the back pocket of his jeans, he selected a playlist, threw up his puffy hood, and strolled down the sidewalk with his eyes closed, knowing the directions by heart. There was nothing to see but gray skies, grimy streets, and rushing cars in the dim dawn anyways. He found none of it worthwhile, and hugged the right edge of the sidewalk in every step.
The chill only got worse as Matthew approached his bus stop, but fortunately the city had installed a cover awhile back. Glass partitions on three sides wrapped around a cold metal bench. He was relieved to be sheltered from the wind, but as he sat down, his music cut out with a stomach-dropping CRACK.
He swore under his breath. He knew he was an idiot. This wasn't even the first time this had happened.
Knowing full well what the outcome would be, his hand tore into his pocket as if haste could fix it. He drew out his sad, broken mp3 player, tiny screen cracked and unlit. No emusic to cover up the loud whir of the busy road in front of him. At least it couldn't get worse.
It promptly got worse.
Someone was approaching. No one ever approached. He hopped on this same bus at the same time every weekday, and each time, he was ALWAYS alone. He'd curse his poor luck if his heart wasn't already pounding so stupidly hard. He only hoped that the earbuds in his ears made his lack of interest clear, avoiding even looking in their direction as they plopped themselves next to him on the bench.
It was silent. Really PAINFULLY silent. Was this what waiting at the stop was normally like, without any sort of music or distraction? It was surreal. Crushing, almost.
"Th-That thing still work?" She commented somewhat loudly to battle the road noise.
He pretended not to hear the woman next to him, stubbornly refusing to even glance.
More. Agonizing. Silence. It tore him up worse by the second. At least he was warm now, but was that bit really worth it?
"Um, sorry, what?" Matthew eventually relented in a soft voice, feigning inattention. He pulled out an earbud to sell the act even more, expression innocent.
As he looked over at her, the realization slammed into him that she looked unrelentingly, pitifully ice-cold. Her pale, albeit toned arms wrapped around herself, serving as her only shelter besides her tank top and sportswear. She even had her long and straight chestnut hair bound up in a high ponytail. Like a fish out of water.
She shook her head apologetically and brought a hand away from her bicep to point at the mp3 player, still nestled in his palm. "S-Sorry, I didn't kn-know you were listening to anything o-on that."
"O-Oh." He stuttered, but hoped to play it off as from the chill. "No, yeah. It's broken."
She blinked. "Oh. Okay."
Why did he wait so long to answer her, then?! He drew his eyes forcefully back to the gray sidewalk, violently regretting ever coming out of his house that day. Shamefully, he plucked out his other earbud and stuffed the rest of the wires into his pants pocket, dismissing the agonizing tangle he'd have to solve later.
Another silence settled in. Normally he might feel slightly pressured fill it with something, but he had just discovered a newfound motivation to keep his mouth welded shut. A couple minutes passed.
"SERIOUSLY?!" She suddenly broke, causing Matt to jump. An electric panic coursed through his body all at once as he stared at her, but as it turned out, her eyes were elsewhere.
"Guy on the news said it was gonna be SUNNY today!" She elaborated, her fury set on a drifting snowflake as she sat back and crossed her arms indignantly. "This is ridiculous. Snow."
Matthew may have been the more protected against the elements of the two, but that didn't keep him from feeling frozen in place. If his mind could make noise, it would be a screeching of dial-up internet. She wasn't upset at HIM, was she? His jaw clamped shut tighter as he wholly convinced himself that uttering a single word would get him into trouble, like a kid smart-talking a teacher. Yet somehow, some way...
"It's the weather guy," his voice was a low mutter, barely loud enough to be heard over the traffic. The toe of his sneaker pressed against the other. "Everyone knows he's horrible at his job."
He was shocked to hear a delightful little laugh. It was hoarse, with a chortle. Something about it seemed to nestle into his chest, despite it coming from her.
"Ya don't say! Kinda wish I got the memo on that." The stranger commented with a grin on her face. He noticed her smile curl into a crinkled sneer around the bridge of her nose, dusted with light freckles. "Let me guess. Nepotism hire, right?"
"Ah-heh. Yeah. Something like that."
Once again, the chatter drifted into the wind as Matthew pulled his eyes down and away again, allowing his hood to cut between himself and her.
Even within a few minutes of waiting there at the stop, the snowflakes began to fall faster, skipping against the ground before finally stacking into a thin white blanket just beyond the stop's shelter.
The guilt began to drip down Matthew's throat as the poor woman next to him - who he didn't even know the name of - was quietly rattling the bench with her shivering, a patchy redness stuck to her cheeks. She blew out a long breath through circled lips, watching it condense into a frozen mist. He felt his anxiety gradually become legitimate. This was frostbite kind of weather.
He couldn't work any words from his throat, but he was compelled enough to slide his shoulders out from the sleeves of his coat. With only a flick of the eye towards her, and with his hand in a nervous fist around its collar, he handed her the dark coat.
He flinched as she immediately snatched it out of his hands as if she'd been coveting it greatly the entire time they'd been seated. "Ugh, thank you!"
She slid the coat over the tops of her arms hurriedly, curling up in its residual warmth with a shudder of relief. He figured he was already getting a bit too warm, anyways, his chest still pounding faster than his destroyed tunes.
"I mean, I was gonna ASK you for it if you weren't gonna offer," she suddenly broke the silence again, a cheeky grin on her face with the same crinkle to her reddened nose.
With no response from Matthew but a slight smile and huff of acknowledgement, the snow began to torrent down more, thickening the air in white ice. It dulled the road noise just barely, especially as traffic began to slow, enveloping the two in a bit more peace. Even then, Matthew never found himself quite comfortable. He chose to lean forward, elbows resting on his knees. That's what chill guys did, right? People who didn't care what other people thought of them? He wondered what she thought of it. He kept his eyes off of her, but without his hood over his head, he could catch her looking at him in his peripheral. Was it horrible that he wished he had that coat back? Could he even ask for it back without seeming like a gigantic jerk? Would he EVER get it back?
After a few minutes of the snow piling up to an inch, the next sound from her was a deep sigh. Her hands poked out through the front of the jacket, reaching up to the back of her head. She undid the tie around her hair, letting long locks fall across her jacketed shoulders.
"What's your name, then?" She asked, bringing her hair tie into her jacket fortress. He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut in before he could. "Matthew?"
Suddenly his gaze, shedding its shyness all at once, snapped onto her. She KNEW him. Panicked pupils fluttered from inch to inch across her expression, frantically scanning for any recognizable features. Who was she, where did she know him from, and how long has he-
She burst out into another fit of chortling laughter. "It's stitched in your jacket, dumbass."
A rapid, red flush slammed onto his cheeks, and the brief, sudden huff of surprised laughter that slipped from his lungs shocked even himself. It fueled her own chuckling.
"Hah!" Her voice suddenly prodded. "So you can laugh! Cross that off my list."
"List?" His question came without even a thought as he shook his head, still recovering.
She grinned, suddenly delighted as if she'd been waiting YEARS to be asked that exact question. "I've got this list of goals whenever I go somewhere new. Anywhere new. First, strike up conversation with a local. Second, make a stranger laugh. Third, add a new number to my contacts."
"Ah, so... you're not from around here?" Another question? This was so unlike him, he wondered briefly if there was something wrong with him. Wait, what was that third item?!
She shook her head, hair dragging into her face only to be brushed aside. "I'm new-ish. Moved up here from a small town down south. Wanted to get away from my family a bit - no offense to them! Just... gotta be my own person out here. See what it's like. You feel me?"
Pressing his lips together, Matthew nodded gently, eyes now attentive to her as he relinquished his hunched posture to sit himself back. He couldn't help but feel a little startled that she'd share so much a total stranger at a bus stop, but at the same time, something about that freeness set him at ease. Like there were no secrets worth keeping, with her. When he turned his head to study the snow again, it was more of a curious wander than a reclusive yank.
As a few more minutes pressed on, his brow very gradually began to squeeze upwards in concern, more apparent the longer the wait became. The snow was seriously piling, now, two or three more inches having dumped in an alarming time.
Once in a while he managed to offer a glance towards the fascinating stranger, his mind still stuck on their conversation. Stuck on his curiosity, and and how nice it felt to just... talk. Most of the time, it felt like he had to carefully construct his sentences to manufacture a way out of the conversation, but here, his words just floated from his throat with such ease. It felt nice. He wanted to try it a little more.
"I think the, uhh... weather guy's probably getting fired this time," he meagerly contributed.
"Oh, if he isn't fired, I'm coming over to whoop him, myself."
A grin spread across Matt's face instinctually. "Uhm-yeah. Kind of looks like you could, too."
His eyes shot open in immediate regret. So THAT was the consequence of not thinking first.
Before he could craft any excuses or apologies for himself, the woman let out a knowing, confident sort of laugh. "Darn right, I could. Don't you forget it, either. In this weather, he'll be my hockey puck out in the middle of the road, right?"
Her causality was so infectious. As his mind slowly turned away from its own internal punishments, the grin sprouted back onto his face unconsciously. Teetering out into instinct one more time, he reached a hand out towards the road in a sliding gesture as he imitated the scraping of ice. "Kshhhhhh, there he goes, just like that."
There was an amused chuckle shared between the two that seemed to cut through the cold, and as it dissipated, he glanced down at his broken music player thoughtfully, wondering to himself if he'd ever have done any of this had it not been broken... Or if he'd ever feel this comfortable again.
"So, uh... what's your name?" He asked, turning his curious gaze back to her as he fiddled with the player in his chilled hands. "If that's not, uh... yeah, weird."
She snorted with an endeared expression before putting on a faux serious look. "Wow. Really? A name already? You must be getting pretty serious, you sure you don't wanna wait another week?"
Although a zap of anxiety travelled up his spine, he still found a self-aware laugh in his chest, grasping to her humor. Still, he couldn't stop the instinct to mutter a quick and quiet "S-Sorry, uhhh..."
"Amelia." She cut in before poking a hand out from her coat tent in offering. "I go by Amy, though. You Matthew, still?"
He paused... Then shook her hand, his grip loose.
"Matt. Or Matthew, yeah, if you want. You can, uh... call me whatever."
"Alright, Mr. Whatever." She laughed quietly at her own joke, suddenly grabbing his hand tightly in both of her own and jarring it up and down teasingly. That was before a shiver coaxed her to retract back inwards, pulling the coat tighter around her. "Funny question, Matt. Do you have any idea when the bus gets here?"
"Uh-yeah. It usually gets here around 8:30."
She fidgeted beneath his coat for a second to draw out a small flip phone. Upon opening, it read "8:46".
It shook him a little. Had he actually been sitting there with her for that long? He figured he'd be counting down the minutes before he could get on with his day, but getting on that bus had somehow migrated to be the last thing on his mind.
"Think it's stuck out there?" She asked, slapping her phone shut.
"Kinda seems like it," he answered. "Are you... late for anything?"
"No, I just wanted to go-..." She cut herself off, as if making a huge realization. After a pause, she let out a disappointed sigh. "On a hike. Probably should have taken the hint when the snow started coming down, huh?"
"Wow, wait hah, so... what exactly were you gonna do when the bus got here?" He inquired with a surprised but amused smile.
"I don't know!" She threw her hands up in the air. Which, being restricted by the coat, only amounted to poking her fingers up through the part down the middle. She smiled widely though, clearly just as entertained by herself. "Probably wait for a bus back home? I guess foresight isn't my thing. Don't you judge me."
Matt's chuckle waned faster into silence than usual this time, as did her own. There was an odd, quiet intimacy surrounding that bus stop as the traffic from the road became sparse. He watched her carefully, in consideration... had she genuinely just been sticking around to chat with him?
Earlier that morning, it would have sounded like a nightmare, so he had to wonder why it didn't feel quite so bad just then.
The longer she sat out with him, though, the more it felt unusual to keep her there. Selfish, even. The bus clearly wasn't coming. It was freezing cold out and the snow was only getting worse. Was it even safe for her to get home? There was a guilty knot working its way into his stomach.
"How about you? Are you late for anything?" She piped up again, oblivious.
"Oh-uh, No. I mean... I had work, but my boss kind of takes any opportunity he can to get out of it. So I don't think anyone's actually going in today."
"So we're both just kinda sittin' here."
"Yeah, heh."
"Waitin' around."
"Yup."
"Waitin' on a bus that's probably given up... And would have to take us back, anyway."
"That's us."
"So are you gonna ask me for my number then, or am I just gonna have to freeze a couple toes off out here, first?"
"-?!"
Matt practically choked on his own spit.
Evidently, the look on his face was enough to send Amy into a fit of laughter. She leaned forward in a hoot, marching her feet against the ground in rapid delight.
"Come on!" She goaded when she finally pulled herself back upright. "You're already two for three on my list, so I'm gonna have to get some other weirdo's number if it's not yours."
"Well, I-uh, th-... Kinda..." He stumbled over words that only served as filler nonsense to buy him more time to think. His shoes ground against each other as he trailed to silence, caught up in overwhelm.
Yet as he willed himself to stop and think, his mind fighting against the pounding in his heart, he glanced at her again to find a look of eager anticipation. Excitement. Right then, he discovered a pleasant smile of his own, meek and pleading.
"O-... Okay."
"Well, good," she nodded, huffing a frozen puff of triumph. "Then go on ahead."
"Uhh... G-Go on and what...?"
"Ask."
He fell to silence, a redness painted on his cheeks both by the cold and the heat.
"So... A-... Amelia..." Matthew began, swallowing cold, dry air. "... Can I... actually have your number...?"
It sounded more like a meek confirmation of reality than a request, as if testing the waters for lies. He expected a laugh in response. A joke. Even just a smile... but her expression suddenly lacked any of her usual playfulness he'd grown to know. Instead she looked fully focused on him, eyes locked.
"Yeah... Of course you can." Her voice was warm and full of understanding. It eased the tension in his neck and shoulders.
"O-Okay. Yeah... that would be really nice."
It was then that she finally smiled at him, with a tilt of her head. He smiled back.
Matthew felt bad about taking his coat back, but no matter how much he assured Amelia that it was fine for her to keep, she insisted twice as hard that she really only lived around the corner, and she wasn't in any danger getting home. She was difficult to say no to.
The two exchanged numbers, and as they parted ways from the stop, he slipped the coat back over his shoulders, a soft pink hue rising to his cheeks as he felt its remnant warmth. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked down the center of the sidewalk, but was surprised to find a little elastic hair band in his pocket.
Just then, as they were barely out of sight of each other in the whirling snow, his phone buzzed. A message.
"left my hair band with u. can i pick it up same time tmrrw?"
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