They walked next to each other through the dimly lit street, lined by several shops and houses, as they often have. His eyes drifted from window to window, from shop to shop. Past signs, trees and other people. He looked at their shoes and clothes, hair and faces and all else. He looked at everything, except for her.
She could not place his expression, he seemed upset yet content. Usually, after all this time together, they held hands while walking through the streets, especially streets they were as familiar with as this street. Except for today. His hands were firmly embedded in the pockets of his overcoat, as they have been all day.
He seemed angry, angry at her. Whenever she asked what was wrong he answered concisely that nothing was wrong, and had a face as if even he did not want to admit his anger or frustration. The walk through that street usually took ten minutes and felt like that too, yet this time it felt endless for her.
As they got nearer to their one-bedroom studio her qualms grew and grew, ever more anxious and worried about his disposition today. The day at home grew slowly over into the evening, and neither seemed to end.
As they went to bed, she was as anxious as she’s ever been. Has he’s stopped loving me? she wondered more and more. As the city closed it’s bright eyes they laid down in the double bed they bought together many moons ago, and shut off the lights. She could not sleep, she was sweating from stress and could not relax in any sense of the word. He body was tense and her mind cluttered for what seemed like forever.
‘I’m sorry’ she heard softly at night. ‘I haven’t been feeling well today. I think I’ll call of work tomorrow, I think I’ve got the flu.’ he said, and kissed her gently on her warm forehead. He laid his head back down on his pillow and went back to sleep.
The contact of him relieved all her qualms and worries, and she felt at rest once again. All that bothered her mind was that she was wondering why she thought in extremes only; he hadn’t stopped loving her, he just wasn’t feeling well.
Author’s notes: This wasn’t my favourite story I ever wrote, but I wanted to try my hand at this type of story. Safe to say that this isn’t my cup of tea, but I still hope you like it!