Lit

#manhattanhenge#Youngerseasonthree

Its Friday evening, around 6:45 pm, and you are walking home from work. Its deadly silent, and the few people along the way seem to be each lost in their own thoughts. You are enjoying the quiet of a typical Friday evening and the view of your surroundings just after sunset. Your hands are in the pockets of your black bomber jacket as you engage in a never ending monologue in your mind. You realize that someone standing at the side of the road ahead of you is smiling at you. She looks vaguely familiar and you squint, trying to get a better look at them. You notice how her black leather boots emphasize the length of her legs. There is a carefree aura about her and she is wearing a long, baggy, blue hooded jacket, and has a black sling bag.Her hair is tied in a high bun. You wonder what she is wearing underneath. As you get closer, you recognize her; she is the one you lent your jacket last week. It was raining and being the gentleman you are, you had given her your jacket. After all, you were ‘just about to get home’. You told her where you lived and said she could return the jacket to house number one.

You smile back, recognizing your jacket, shake hands and walking home  with her seems like the most natural to do. So you get home, and into the house. She is standing by the door, still in her boots for you insisted she doesn’t remove them.  You are clearing the books from your coffee table and getting rid of a shirt you left on your couch. You turn to offer her a seat and there she is, looking perpetual, innocent and sinfully sexy as she hugs herself. You stutter, asking her if she’d want a drink.

“Water”, she says.

You head to the kitchen to get her water. You get back, and you are glued to a spot, staring at her. She has got rid of your jacket and let her hair down.  Your lower lip quivers, and you know that this will be one hell of a night.