"We should move in together." Your words come out like from a barrel of a semi-automatic handgun, pointed at my forehead, piercing my brain and spray painting the walls with Pollock-like art with what I believe to be a part of my cerebral cortex. My brains send shivers down my spine, punishment for the image on my mind. I look out of the open window to the rising sun, trying to ignore the words that still hang dead and heavy in the air, echo from my pale, undecorated walls. I like them just the way they are. Pale, lacking the woman's overrated touch. They'll do. They're just fine. They're mine. I roll the half-empty coffee mug in my hands, grind my teeth aware of the silence getting even thicker and heavier than your words just did. The tension's building up, I can hear your heart beat even faster than mine. It shakes the whole house. It wakes up our neighbours. Hell, it would be even enough to wake up the dead!
I look you in the eyes, without emotions, which to you seems to be more than a clear answer. In five minutes you're out of this house, and you'll never be here again. I hope. You narrow your eyes and take a deep breath, look me in the eyes and it seems like you're almost about to say something, but you change your mind before it escapes your red but dry lips. The sun sets the whole room in fire, it reflects from my IKEA- glasstable and pale walls, it reflects from my unfinished pile of dishes, it reflects from the necklace I gave you few months ago. Will I get it back, I wonder. Probably not. I would not dare to ask. I look into your eyes, we've been having this awkward, silent conversation for those five minutes I wished would take you out of this house. But you're still here. You're still in my kitchen. I sigh.
"of course, hun. We should move in together.." wriggles out of my mouth, words to avoid the upcoming conflict, white flag waved before there's any blood shed at all. I lost. Again.
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