hey, i murmur, clutching my mug closer to my face. how are you?
i'm good. ha, you cold?
eh. i just woke up. throat's a bit sore like it is every morning. and i'm always cold, no matter what. sometimes even in the summer.
i would make you something hot to drink but it looks like you're ahead of me. he points to the cocoa that steams through the foam skin.
yeah. i try not to talk much in the morning, actually. you're my exception today.
nice to know that i'm special.
always, i smile, letting a few teeth show. i start talking again, vacantly, almost to no one in general. i don't know. every morning when i get out of bed, i put on socks, maybe a sweatshirt, brush my teeth so my mouth isn't closed solid, drink a lot of liquid to wake me up, and i'm still a bit hoarse.
i think you sound a bit... sultry. like ella fitzgerald.
she's my favourite. smile again.
i know, you told me before.
a sigh. i have music class today and i have to sing for my professor and i'm actually a bit nervous because i'm still not adjusted to the day.
it'll get better.
i know. it always does. i just need time. if i had it my way, no one would talk before 9 or 10am. we'd all sit at a big table and drink orange juice and read the paper and notice the necessary air that we'd all be sharing, and when the clock struck we'd open our mouths, ready to face wallstreet and whatever else requires talking.
but until then?
i just sit here in my 'office' chair, listening to beethoven and ed sheeran--
we'll work on that, dear.
okay, good. a pause. voice better now?
a bit, yeah.
hey, it's 10am now.
really? i open my mouth, yawn. good morning, hi. it's nice to see you.
mixtape and things actually worth reading coming soon. i feel so unvarietable but it's inter-universal singles awareness day and i actually like someone and i'm listening to ed sheeran with butterflies (or stardust) in my stomach and it's late and rachel t's birthday and i just. i just... goodnight.
-kiss me like you wanna be loved-