“Well, I would stalk you.” I said, leaning on my elbows and watching him watch us in the wall mirror. “But only if I can do it from the couch. While reading a book.” The reflection of the tiny flame from the tea light danced against the dark, polished wood of the high table. “And not paying attention to you.”
“Technically, I don’t think that’s stalking.” She cut into the dense flourless chocolate cake on her plate.
“It’s not?” I took the miniature coffee pot that sat on the table in front of me and used my thumb to open the lid, as if it were talking. I aimed it at the mirror. “Well, I’m disappointed, then.” I mouthed at the mirror, locking eyes with the lithe, dark young man —Can I get some fucking coffee?
“I think that’s called ‘not caring.’ Stalking involves things like hiding in the bushes.” She slid the spoon into her open mouth and closed her lips around the stem. As she pulled the completely clean spoon back through her lips she said around a mouthful of sticky cake, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Pretending not to have heard her question, I continued to taunt Walter. I was beginning to think he might be perpetually high on something. “Oh, well, then that’s what I’ll do.” I repeated my mirror request to him, since he was still staring. “I don’t especially feel up to that other stuff. Foliage isn’t really my thing.”
“What are you doing?” She asked again. “Why are you talking to the wall?”
“I’m fucking with Scared Bunny Man. Also, I’m out of coffee.” I put the empty pot back on the table and leaned forward to watch her eat her cake. Mine was already a thing of the past.
“How are you doing that?” She took another bite of cake.
“You seem to have forgotten that all the walls in here are made of mirrors.” I took a long pull of ice water. “And I’ve always found mirrors to be very useful.”
She turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror and seemed surprised. “I forgot about that.”
“I figured as much.” I said, holding out the empty pot as Walter placed a fresh one in front of me. “So, do you talk or just stare?” I asked, switching my gaze to him.
“Uhhm” He said, eloquently.
“So, if I poked you with a sharp object, like this hair pin here, would you say something else? Another sound, perhaps?” I questioned him. He blinked in response. “I thought not. Thank you, that will be all.”
“I think he likes you.” I said, pouring my coffee and inspecting the open bowl of sugar lumps on the table.
“Walter?” She sipped her coffee. “I think he’s a blown fuse.”
“Or terrified.” I mused. “Because he’s stupid.”
“So, is his terror a result of his stupidity or is it the terror itself that you’re calling stupid.”
“Maybe both.” I decided against the sugar lumps and drank the scalding coffee unsweetened.
“Is that why you like coming here?” She asked, running the tip of her spoon over the surface of her dessert. “Because you like tormenting him?”
“Nah. He’s a fucking doorknob as far as I’m concerned.” I shook my head and giggled. “Torture is just an unexpected perk. I’m here for the coffee and cake.”
~But there’s no sense in crying over every mistake. You just keep on trying til you run out of cake.~