Today’s Brew: Butter Toffee.
She told him to get the fuck out. But she didn’t mean it.
She wanted him to beg her to let her stay. She wanted to feel wanted. She wanted to believe he couldn’t live without her. But instead, she thought he looked so sad as he turned away from her, his shoulders slumped as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
No words. He closed the door quietly behind him.
Her heart broke into a thousand pieces. She ran to the window, but hid behind the curtain, watching him walk down the dark street, bumping into revelers spilling on to the sidewalks from the bars. Last call.
His silhouette grew smaller as he made his way through the crowd. Rain drops fell on the shoulders of his beloved vintage blazer that he wore with everything. How many times had she begged him to get rid of it? It was a piece of him, he argued. He wore it with everything. It was comfortable. Just like him.
The musty scent of the old jacket filled her nostrils, even though he was turning the corner, out of sight.
She stared out the window until all the bar patrons disappeared. The traffic lights blurred with raindrops. Or teardrops. When was he going to come back? This wasn’t what she wanted.
She loved him. She just didn’t know how to tell him. She wondered if he felt the same way. If he felt anything at all. How could she be so wrong about things? How could this man who so many times made her laugh make her cry like this?
She slid down the wall in the corner of the apartment, her head tipped back, trying to capture her frustration and stupidity before it splashed on the floor and exploded. Her roommate came in from a night out. She ignored her. Or tried to. She stiffened as the girl put her arms around her. She didn’t want comfort right now. She wanted to feel like shit. She ruined everything.
Once her roommate gave up trying to save the night, she dimmed the lights in the living room and left her in the ball she found her in. The darkness covered her like a blanket.
He still wasn’t there.
She could barely move. Her muscles felt so heavy. They ached like she hadn’t used them before. Somehow, she made it to her room, still steamy. She sat on the very edge of the bed, still unmade.
She’d never be able to sleep.
She stared at the pretty bottle that sat untouched on her dresser. Adorned with a brown cord, it held oil, spices, and flower petals. A cork held everything inside the purple vessel. She reached for the bottle, examining its contents, beauty forever suspended behind glass.
She had nothing else to lose.
Uncorking the bottle, she dabbed some of the oil on her neck, and on the insides of her wrists. The vanilla and cardamom warmed her skin. She breathed deep, erasing the musty smell of his jacket once and for all.
She laid back on the bed and closed her eyes. His eyes twinkled in the sunlight, laughing at her attempt to be funny. How she loved his smile.
Herbal potion, cauldron brew, now be charged with magick true. With intent I speak this charm, all be blessed and none be harmed. Ever minding the law of three, This is my will, so mote it be.
She repeated it over and over. Her voice became more and more desperate, but she had to be careful not to wake her roommate. All they could afford was a crappy apartment with thin walls. She didn’t want her roommate to worry about her anymore.
The creaking door startled her from her chant. Her heart raced. Someone was in the room.
He crawled beside her on the bed and kissed her. No words needed.
He came back to her.
Love Spell courtesy www.spellsofmagic.com