I couldn't look at him as I spoke, my eyes downcast. "I know you hate me, and I'm sorry," I added, almost in a whisper.
There was another long silence as I waited for him to speak. When he finally did, his words surprised me. "I don't hate you," he said, drawing my attention. "You don't hate someone you don't know, and I apologize if I gave you that impression."
His words warmed my heart, and I turned to face him. "Thank you," I said with a small smile.
"I've never been most comfortable with women," It seems like he wanted to say more, but then again, he closed his mouth and shook his head.
Instead, he asked, "What are you doing out here all alone? What about your parents?"
The question never gets easy, never stops hurting. "I never really knew my father. It's always been Mama and I." Just the thought of her had my eyes watering.
He saw my reaction because his face softened the more. "What about your mother?"
"She died four months ago." I breathed out, my head lowered. "She was all I have in the world."
"That must have hit you really hard." He said in a gentle voice. "Your mother must have been a very good woman."
"She is... She was. The kindest and the best." My eyes glazed over with the thoughts of her, "We had each other and we loved each other. We have the same name too..."
The man smiled a bit, handing over a cup of hot coffee to me. "Now I even realize that I don't know your name, dear. What is your name?"
.
.
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8. BEFORE GOODBYE...
MARK
Surprisingly, the anger I expected to feel was absent when I first saw her. I had instructed X-man to keep her far away from me, convinced that I would not want to be near her. However, as I stood in the kitchen in front of the coffeemaker, staring at her timid blue eyes, I felt a tug to my chest.
One moment, she looked like a complete stranger, and the next, she looked awfully familiar. Have I met this girl before?
I highly doubted that. As we talked, I found myself not wanting to leave her side. I wanted to know more about her, which was why I asked about her name.
She smiled softly and replied, "It's Anya. Anya Vi--"
Suddenly, Xazix's voice interrupted, coming through the doorway before he entered into the kitchen. My attention went to my friend who looked like he was still half asleep.
"You look like shit," I commented.
He grunted, looking down at his feet as he staggered his way into the kitchen.
"Good morning," Anya greeted him in a bright voice and he grumbled his response.
"Nothing like a good cup of coffee to start the day," he groaned, going to the coffeemaker to turn it on.
After taking a sip, he turned to look at both Anya and me, and asked, "Everything alright here?"
"Don't worry, she's fine," I grumbled, and he chuckled.
"You can't blame me for asking," he grinned before facing the door. "Now, if y'all will excuse me, I still have to catch up with that sleep."
As he walked out of the door, I smiled, wondering what I was still doing in the kitchen. "Let's go to the living room," I said to Anya, and she nodded.
Together, we walked into the sitting room. I sat down on the couch and she sat down on the chair beside the couch. I turned on the television, and she stared at it with so much awe.
When she caught me staring, she flushed prettily. "I've not seen a TV screen this large before..." She gestured towards the length of the plasma television.
"Oh," I couldn't help but smile. I stared at the TV, trying to see it through her eyes, "I guess it's big."
"It's not big. It's very big!" she exclaimed, still in awe.
I chuckled at that. I watched as her eyes took in everything she saw. The TV stand, the stylish and colorful lightbulbs, the tiled floor, and the movie rack.
Her eyes widened as they landed on the stashed movie rack, and she stared at me pleadingly and adorably.
"You can go ahead and explore," I found myself saying before I could think twice about it.
A huge smile spread over her face. "Thank you, Sir!" She exclaimed as she got up from her chair and headed for the movie rack.
I wondered when we went from 'Mr. Mark and Mark' to 'Sir.' I smiled and decided to leave her to it. Anyone that made her comfortable was alright by me.
"I'm afraid that you'll only find masculine movies in that stash. Action-filled movies, detective stories, and all that," I warned her.
She threw me a stare and said shyly, "I don't mind, sir. I just want to look through them."