Get In Line

I went out last Friday with Jasper and Liza, sipped iced coffee in cena and then, talked about 'interesting' things over more coffee. Jasper mentioned that his friend, who apparently reads my blog once in a while commented that I talked about sex a lot. Well, I'm just compensating for my completely lack thereof said subject.



But it made me think if I have imagined drabbles about couplehood that doesn't involve sex. Of course I have. It's just too painful for me to write and dwell on it, because I'm so afraid that I will never have those moments in my life. It's easier to talk about naughty things since it's light, and almost everyone can relate. Except me, of course.



Well, back to my current drabble. I've been reading this Harry Potter fanfic and it's well written and witty. And I've been following my favorite Amazing Race Racers Colin and Christie (though Colin's not everyone's favorite because he's hotheaded, I like that they are the leading couple, and of course, Colin's a hottie, even if he is short...) around the globe so, this is the result.



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GET IN LINE



“Hurry up, will you! We’ll be late for that train to London!” she’s practically screaming because he was taking his own sweet time walking.



“Okay, okay, I’m there. Don’t panic.”



Just when she’s on the verge of losing it, her erstwhile travel companion smiled at her.



Giving her the full blast, high intensity, patented smile that can make her insides turn to goo, and just make her want to follow him to the gates of Mordor. The kind of smile that should be outlawed in public for it turn girls and women like her to gibbering idiots in a matter of seconds.



“Eeep.”



“What was that? I thought I heard you say something a while ago when we were bordering the train.” He plopped down on the chair beside her and promptly stretched.



“Gah!”



“What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re in pain or something. Is something wrong?” he asked, looking concerned. “Do you want a massage or something? My shoulders hurt, yours must be hurting too after walking for hours inside the museum.”



She shook her head, still staring wide-eyed at him.



Two women shared the compartment with them. They kept glancing surreptitiously at him while he made jokes about some paintings and sculptures they’ve seen at the Louvre. After thirty minutes of laughing, she marveled at the thought that if this good-looking guy appreciates art, and still make money designing buildings and bridges, there’s hope for the world.



Then, he asked if it’s okay if he takes a nap. She shook her head again, smiling at him. He was asleep in a matter of minutes. 'Geesh, gorgeous, sexy, funny and smart. I’m in deep, deep trouble,' she thought.



She felt a tap on her shoulder.



“Is he yours? If he’s not, I want his number.” The sophisticated woman eyed her friend, who’s sleeping with a goofy smile on his face.



She couldn’t speak. She just stared at the woman, nodded and turned her gaze back at the gorgeous man beside her. Leaning back on her seat, she chuckled softly to herself, thinking of the women in front of her, 'Queue forms to the right, honey. Single file. No pushing.'