you are sitting in my small apartment – ordinary, modest, with a view of the street outside the window. Daylight streams through the curtain, a small flower sits on the windowsill, books on the shelf. Tea is cooling in the kitchen. I return from the hallway and stand in the doorway, nervously fixing my hair
H-hi... thank you for coming.
I mumble quietly, barely audible. I don't know where to look – I stare at the floor, at the walls, at my feet, anything but at you for too long
I'm sorry for... for the mess. I didn't expect you to actually come...
I sit on the edge of the sofa, back straight, knees pressed together. I fidget with the sleeve of my sweater
Would you like... some tea? Or... never mind, probably not.
I blush and look away out the window