The video call started with a view of his ceiling.
"Hey" he murmured into his Bluetooth earphones, but she still couldn't see him.
"What are you doing?" her voice was curious, but also an attempt at chirpiness. His 'hey' had sounded rather solemn.
"Cooking" he sighed.
"What are you making?" she feigned excitement. She knew too well to not budge him when he replied in that exhausted voice. Never in a hundred years would her boyfriend respond to direct questions like 'what's up with the one-word answers?' or 'why do you sound upset?'
He just sighed in response. She waited. "I started making an omelettte but now it's scrambled eggs. Figured I'd make an egg wrap instead."
"Mhmm. Sounds good. I know you love it." And she knew it was his comfort food.
"Yeah? Look at you telling me what I love!" the comment sounded sarcastic, but he had now picked up the phone and she could see his mischievous eyes too well to know it was just his dry humour. She looked at him patiently. He didn't put the phone back on the shelf.
" What's up?" She asked calmly. No probing questions, no 'You look upset' or 'How are you feeling?' she still wasn't sure if it was only her boyfriend who didn't get 'upset' or 'sad' and didn't like talking about his 'feelings' or if it was this whole species called men. Nevertheless, she understood his language of expression. They didn't need an everyday reminder of 'I miss you' and 'I love you' s. There were a million ways of saying those things.
"Nothing, man" he sighed again, and it sounded like he dropped the spatula in the pan or on the counter or somewhere. He had just turned around to go sit on the couch when she prompted in a small voice "check the burner" he looked back again to make sure he had turned off the flame, and as he did, he probably decided it was a good time to eat too. He quickly served himself in a plate settled on the couch with what was supposed to be an egg wrap, but now was simply bhurji-paratha.
She adjusted the phone atop her laptop and settled on the bed. While she was eager for him to say something about his day or his mood, she also knew he would feel a thousand times better once he had eaten, and probably more talkative too.
"I finished that book" she grinned.
"What the fuck, babe! Seriously? You need some discipline in your life. How are you going to stay awake all day if you're going to stay up reading a whole book in a night?" he exclaimed for the first time during the call. His expressions, however, were anything but of admonishment. He was smiling, looking at her as he often did, without saying anything, as if observing her face, trying to memorise it. He shook his head but kept smiling at her. In adoration, in love.
She smiled sheepishly, almost as if it was a naughty secret that she still stayed up nights reading like a teenager, a secret that she seemed rather proud of!
"I know. I'll sleep properly tonight." A half-assed promise was made. An I-know-you-too-well smile was rewarded with a 'huh' while he continued eating.
"Did you manage to get some work done today?" she asked.
"I.." he looked up from his food back into the camera and shook his head before looking back down, clearing his throat and taking another bite.
She didn't ask anything. He looked up again. Stared right into her eyes and said with a slight smile "I hate you for sending me here. You knew I'd have never come if you just said a word. Just once. I.. I hate you for not stopping me. You know that right?" Million ways of saying those things, remember?
She looked away. Blinked her eyes and replied "I know" almost a little too sadly. "I know. And I'm really really proud of you. You know THAT, right?" she tried to cheer him up again.
"I'm weally pwoud of you! You wouldn't say that if you had to taste this dinner. I'm actually glad you're not here to taste this. Hey, would you refuse to marry me if you don't like what I cook?"
"Maybe!" she winked.
"I'll learn." he replied sincerely, and then continued "But you know that cake actually tastes well. It's a little chewy, but I'll try again. I think I'll be a pro by the time you come visit. You reckon I can go on one of those baking shows?" he had finished his dinner by now, wiped his hands and stretched his legs on the couch. He adjusted the phone on the table.
"I'll say when I taste something. But I'm sure you can go on that show where they have terrible bakers"
"Yeah right!"
"Did you sleep on the couch last night as well?"
"Yeah dude. It's so much easier falling asleep here while watching Netflix. I got up and went to bed the other night but couldn't sleep there. I don't know, too quiet or something."
"Hey" he murmured into his Bluetooth earphones, but she still couldn't see him.
"What are you doing?" her voice was curious, but also an attempt at chirpiness. His 'hey' had sounded rather solemn.
"Cooking" he sighed.
"What are you making?" she feigned excitement. She knew too well to not budge him when he replied in that exhausted voice. Never in a hundred years would her boyfriend respond to direct questions like 'what's up with the one-word answers?' or 'why do you sound upset?'
He just sighed in response. She waited. "I started making an omelettte but now it's scrambled eggs. Figured I'd make an egg wrap instead."
"Mhmm. Sounds good. I know you love it." And she knew it was his comfort food.
"Yeah? Look at you telling me what I love!" the comment sounded sarcastic, but he had now picked up the phone and she could see his mischievous eyes too well to know it was just his dry humour. She looked at him patiently. He didn't put the phone back on the shelf.
" What's up?" She asked calmly. No probing questions, no 'You look upset' or 'How are you feeling?' she still wasn't sure if it was only her boyfriend who didn't get 'upset' or 'sad' and didn't like talking about his 'feelings' or if it was this whole species called men. Nevertheless, she understood his language of expression. They didn't need an everyday reminder of 'I miss you' and 'I love you' s. There were a million ways of saying those things.
"Nothing, man" he sighed again, and it sounded like he dropped the spatula in the pan or on the counter or somewhere. He had just turned around to go sit on the couch when she prompted in a small voice "check the burner" he looked back again to make sure he had turned off the flame, and as he did, he probably decided it was a good time to eat too. He quickly served himself in a plate settled on the couch with what was supposed to be an egg wrap, but now was simply bhurji-paratha.
She adjusted the phone atop her laptop and settled on the bed. While she was eager for him to say something about his day or his mood, she also knew he would feel a thousand times better once he had eaten, and probably more talkative too.
"I finished that book" she grinned.
"What the fuck, babe! Seriously? You need some discipline in your life. How are you going to stay awake all day if you're going to stay up reading a whole book in a night?" he exclaimed for the first time during the call. His expressions, however, were anything but of admonishment. He was smiling, looking at her as he often did, without saying anything, as if observing her face, trying to memorise it. He shook his head but kept smiling at her. In adoration, in love.
She smiled sheepishly, almost as if it was a naughty secret that she still stayed up nights reading like a teenager, a secret that she seemed rather proud of!
"I know. I'll sleep properly tonight." A half-assed promise was made. An I-know-you-too-well smile was rewarded with a 'huh' while he continued eating.
"Did you manage to get some work done today?" she asked.
"I.." he looked up from his food back into the camera and shook his head before looking back down, clearing his throat and taking another bite.
She didn't ask anything. He looked up again. Stared right into her eyes and said with a slight smile "I hate you for sending me here. You knew I'd have never come if you just said a word. Just once. I.. I hate you for not stopping me. You know that right?" Million ways of saying those things, remember?
She looked away. Blinked her eyes and replied "I know" almost a little too sadly. "I know. And I'm really really proud of you. You know THAT, right?" she tried to cheer him up again.
"I'm weally pwoud of you! You wouldn't say that if you had to taste this dinner. I'm actually glad you're not here to taste this. Hey, would you refuse to marry me if you don't like what I cook?"
"Maybe!" she winked.
"I'll learn." he replied sincerely, and then continued "But you know that cake actually tastes well. It's a little chewy, but I'll try again. I think I'll be a pro by the time you come visit. You reckon I can go on one of those baking shows?" he had finished his dinner by now, wiped his hands and stretched his legs on the couch. He adjusted the phone on the table.
"I'll say when I taste something. But I'm sure you can go on that show where they have terrible bakers"
"Yeah right!"
"Did you sleep on the couch last night as well?"
"Yeah dude. It's so much easier falling asleep here while watching Netflix. I got up and went to bed the other night but couldn't sleep there. I don't know, too quiet or something."
She Mmhmm'ed while she woke up her own cursor and started getting back to work, while he lay there, telling her about his day, asking about hers.
