memo
I frowned.
“Green argyle on a blue shirt? Honey, you -” I couldn’t stifle my laughter “-you look like-” more uncontrollable laughing “-like my Sociology professor back at Georgetown.” Whenever he sulks, he has a dimple on his left cheek; one that isn’t present when he smiles. I spot the expressive dip in his skin and my heart flutters, sending involuntary shivers down my spine.
“Here,” I offer placatingly. “This ivory one looks nice.” I reach to undo the perfect double Windsor knot he’s made, but he waves me off and continues to study his reflection. “What’s wrong with this tie?” he asks, sounding defensive. I rub my nose. “It’s the pattern,” I muse. “A tad weird. Makes you look…eccentric. Peculiar, even.”
He pulls a funny face and laughs at his comical mirror image. “Peculiar,” he softly chuckles. “That’s one thing I’m good at. That’s one thing we’re both good at.” He reaches for my freshly-knotted tie and reels me in for our morning kiss.
Somehow, I don’t think that peculiar will be the first word that would come to my parents’ minds if they ever saw me making out with this absolutely gorgeous man.
~ hannah p
