Hawk
Hawk hummed the new song he was creating as he dusted his bookshelves. The tune was soft, haunting. And he could not get it out of his head. Later, he would try out the tune with his guitar. But first, he had to finish cleaning the apartment. He had started an hour ago and he was only on the third shelf. He was getting distracted by the books, pulling them out one by one and rereading some of his favorite scenes.
Hawk did not even realize Michelle was in the apartment until she tapped his shoulder.
"Hey, what's up?" He replaced Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire onto the shelf.
"I knocked three times."
"Oh. I guess I was concentrating too hard." He yawned, running a hand through his messy hair.
"What are you doing?" Michelle asked.
"Dusting."
She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I missed you yesterday."
Hawk stood up, stretching. A dull ache was creeping through his bones. Maybe he was coming down with something. Hawk had the worst immune system. He seemed to catch every single virus going around.
"So. What did you do?" Michelle asked, following Hawk into the kitchen.
"When?"
"Yesterday," she sighed audibly.
He shrugged, thinking back to yesterday. What had he done? "Oh yeah, I started a new song." As he reached into the cupboard for the coffee grounds, Michelle hugged him, smacking a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Hawk tensed and squirmed out of her grasp. He held up the coffee pot to her. "Do you want some?"
Michelle shook her head, making a 'yuck' face. Hawk yawned again. He needed the caffeine more than he'd thought.
"So, what's the new song about?"
"A girl."
"Really?" Michelle swayed on her feet grinning at him. "Anyone we know?"
"No."
Her smile froze. Too late, Hawk realized she had hoped the song was about her. He looked away from her face and glared at the coffee pot, willing it to brew faster.
"It's about Becky, isn't it!"
"What makes you say that?" Hawk was stunned by her accusation.
She shot him a cold look. "What am I supposed to think, Hawk? You never want to spend time with me anymore. And Becky . . . well, you know her. She'd do anything to get you back!"
"Michelle, I swear, I'm not getting back together with Becky. I haven't even seen her for months!"
"Just admit it! You don't want to be with me!" She turned away, her blonde hair falling over her face. The dark roots were beginning to show. She should dye it back to her natural color. He shifted from one foot to the other, the right thing to say lost to him.
"I care about you, Hawk." Her voice was quiet. She faced him again.
Hawk was surprised at the tears on her cheeks. Michelle never cried.
"But I'm worried. You never want to go out anymore. I thought . . . I mean . . . is it me? You don't want to spend time with me?"
"No. No, that's not it," Hawk held his hands to her. She just stared at his palms, scrutinizing them it seemed. "It's just that I value my time alone," he said lamely.
Michelle sighed. "But you are always alone. I like to be with you. I like to go out, not stay cooped up in this apartment all the time. And it would be nice if you actually invited me over, rather than just wait for me to show up."
Hawk fell onto the couch and ran his hand through his hair. His mind was whirring. He couldn't think of the right words to say to her.
"Hawk?" Michelle sat cross legged on the couch, facing him. She ran her hand down the left side of his face. Her hand was warm and soft. Hawk breathed deeply, savoring her touch. But why couldn't he tell her that? Why did words fail him? Because he knew that one day she would leave, and then . . .
"Do you know how much I adore you?" Michelle whispered, tugging at his hair.
He dared to look her in the eyes.
She smiled and shook her head in amazement. "You need a hair cut. But the shagginess suits you." She sighed again, her smile sad. "Why do I put up with you?"
Hawk shrugged and leaned in to kiss her.
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