A Train Trip part 1 of 3

Yellow trees and brown fields rushed past. She sat with her forehead leaning against the cold window, the motion of the train rocking her, making her sleepy, but not quite enough for her to actually fall asleep. And boredom had set up camp in her mind.

Just as she thought it could not get any worse, a baby began crying a few seats behind her. She closed her eyes. Of course it was nice to see Dave. Every time, it really was, but these train trips were killing her. She sighed. Maybe they should move in together?

Of course that was a rather big step, and perhaps moving in together was not something one should do to avoid long train trips. Then again, they were really boring. Apart from that, living in the same flat would have some advantages. He could do the cooking and most of the cleaning and he could see her pretty face every day. They could wake up together and have a cosy brunch each Saturday. And he could make those cinnamon buns, so tasty she could almost smell them. She sniffed. She could smell them. Or at least, she could smell cinnamon.

She looked up from the window and saw a pale man with a slender figure coming down the aisle. His walk looked completely balanced, like he was walking down the pavement and not through a train which was driving at full speed. As he came nearer in what felt like slow-motion, his hair seemed to wave in a breeze that was not there, and her eyes were drawn to his lips. Red and full they were and they looked ever so soft. Was he the one smelling of cinnamon?

He sat down opposite her, crossed his legs and looked out of the window without deigning her a glance. She pretended that she was looking out the window, but kept studying him out of the corner of her eye. Why did she study him? She was not sure. Usually she found even vaguely feminine men uninteresting, perhaps because she wrote them off as gay. However, this man felt different. With his delicate hands and full lips, he certainly looked more than vaguely feminine, but still there was something luring about him.

Was this one of those ‘love at first sight’ moments that films and books kept talking about? She had never understood those, maybe she was about to. How did they describe it? Attraction for no obvious reason, she had that one. Heart rate increasing every time the protagonist, that would have to be her, looked at the love-interest, and that was him. She concentrated on her heart as she looked at him, yes, her heart did beat faster. Forgetting all else, but the love-interest. It was only then that she remembered the baby; it had never stopped crying.

It was certain then. She was in love.

What now?

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