The Onyx Eyes of a Stranger

Monday: I saw him for the first time in the elevator. I couldn’t look away from his gorgeous features. He was tall with piercing grey eyes and had a jawline so sharp it could cut my finger if I touched it. He finally caught me staring and smiled at me. His smile was warm and sexy, and he reeked of mystery. As the elevator came to its last stop, we stared at each other one last time. He winked at me causing my cheeks to heat up, then we went our separate ways.

Tuesday: The next day I saw him he smelled of motor oil and his hands were stained with a black-like substance. He must’ve been coming from work at the auto shop. He brushes past me and pushes the elevator button. We make eye contact again and this time his eyes linger on my lips a little bit longer than expected before the ding of the elevator brings him back to reality. As he enters the elevator I size him up one more time. Broad shoulders, chiseled physique, and a skeletal hand tattoo that I’ve stared at on more than one occasion.

Wednesday: The day after that I did not see him. I even waited a little longer in front of the elevator in case he was running late. I guess not. I imagine how our encounter would go if he were here right now. Maybe he would finally open up his mouth and speak to me. Maybe I would speak back and that would spark the conversation of a lifetime before he realizes how completely and utterly in love with me he is. But I digress. I mean this isn’t some romantical cliché we’re talking about. I grow tired of waiting and let my feet carry me away before I could make the decision to stay longer.

Thursday: Today I’m shocked. Instead of the elevator we meet at his auto shop due to me needing an oil change. He still doesn’t speak to me, but his eyes tell me everything I need to know. When he’s done I go to pay but he won’t accept the money. Instead he just gives me my receipt, winks at me, and goes back to working on another car. It’s interesting to watch him in his element. The creasing of his eyebrows due to focus and the sweat dripping down the side of his neck is enough to make me realize I’ve been staring for way too long. He looks at up me with a nod and I give him a slight wave before making a swift exit.

Friday: This day is different. He asks me to meet up at a local coffee shop where they sell the best Caramel Frappuccino’s a person could ever taste. As I sit in front of him he studies me. I began to squirm under his gaze and shake my leg due to nerves. Before I could open my mouth to speak he grabs my hand from across the table and whispers gently, “I remember.” A smile makes its way across my face as I have been waiting for this moment for months. As we continue to stare into each other’s eyes I see it; our memories. He meets me halfway across the table and we share the first kiss we’ve had in over a year. Oh how I’ve missed his warmth.

Saturday: We spend this entire day getting to know each other all over again. Neither one of us addresses the accident that caused this in the first place, but I think that’s because it ultimately speaks for itself. One year. 365 days I waited for that one look in his eyes and I am happy to say that it did not disappoint. I had to come to terms with the fact that his memories may have never came back. In a sickened reality I imagine I would see him out somewhere hoping for his mouth to utter one word to me, but it wouldn’t. Maybe his eyes would hold meaning but his lips would spew venom and before you know it the pages of our lives together would slowly drip ink before none of it existed anymore.

Sunday: This day is filled with bliss. No longer do I feel the need to pick the petals from flowers and ask if he loves me or not because I know he does. Sometimes I catch him staring at me, getting every little detail of my face cemented into his brain. I can tell he’s scared to forget again but a love like ours will always find its way back to each other. I like to think that we both came from the same star and its dust created our ever-verse where we and only we remain together. As the day steadily goes by and hues of orange and pink spill into clouds we spend the minutes of it wrapped in being. Our supernova.

The End