You And Me, It's Destiny

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Life here was routine. Peaceful for the most part. And yet, something within Bellamy Blake never felt fully at ease. He wasn't sure what it was. He wasn't sure how to describe it. Only that it existed; in the pit of his stomach. But with each passing day, nothing changed in this city. Nothing altered the every day routine of his life. It was steady . . . predictable. Interactions with others were casual, nothing too eventful occurred. Today, like all other days . . . he had gone to the coffee shop to get his usual order before heading to work. He waited in the line, as usual.

He ordered, as usual. He paid for it, as usual. And he gratefully accepted the readied beverage, thanking the employee before turning and heading toward the door. He paused however, a figure noticed in his peripheral vision. Enough to make him stop and casually glance at the male. He had never met him before . . . yet there was something oddly familiar about it. Did he always sit here at this time? Was it just now that Bellamy was noticing him?

Whatever it was . . . he felt drawn toward him. Enough that he couldn't just casually pass him without a word. He couldn't let this nagging feeling go. Nor did he have any idea what to say to him. He wasn't over thinking anything just . . . reacting. To the point that he took a few steps toward the small table he sat at. "Hey," he greeted, looking at the apparent stranger. What was it about him that made Bellamy alter his daily routine to talk to him. Maybe he would find out, or maybe he wouldn't. Either way . . . the conversation had been struck. Not that Bellamy's opening words were overly insightful of impactful.

[John Murphy]

Another day, the same as the last. Same as the one before. Same as tomorrow. Everything was as it always was, as it was expected. Nothing out of the ordinary. This 'ordinary' that never really shifted, never really tilted this way or that. Just a constant existence. If someone had asked John Murphy if this could be classed as living, perhaps the answer might be no. As it was, nobody asked and he didn't think to consider it.  

There was however an unsettling. Slight and distant, like a shadow just out of view that shifted whenever one tried to look at it. Too subtle to grasp onto and so life went on. Murphy had come to the coffee shop, as he did three days a week. Same place, same days, same time. To sit and read. Although the words failed to sink in. Sure he would register them, could recall it to another, but the meaning didn't break through. The passion in the pages, words meant to stir a response only went in as a mere combination of letters without substance. As if something was missing. 

Today he had sat at his usual table, though in a different seat with no real thought on the choice. A coffee and a book in front of him but his attention had drifted to the window ahead, with Murphy peering out at nothing in particular until the greeting from the other drew his gaze. Looking up at the man who had spoken, he studied the other a moment or two before offering a response. "Hey." There was an inclination to say more but no words came, despite the sense he felt that he had much more to say. Instead he found himself extending a leg enough to push the chair opposite out in an invitation for the other to sit. Unsure as to why.

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The one simply stated word of greeting, further struck a chord of familiarity within Bellamy. He couldn't place it, and it continued to nag at him. When the man pushed out the chair with his leg, Bellamy silently accepted the invitation -- grateful and relieved for it in fact. Perhaps the more he conversed with the man, he would eventually find out where he knew him from. Taking a seat across from him at the small table, Bellamy tried not to stare, and instead, used the drink in his hand as a welcome distraction.

"Bellamy," he introduced. Or if they knew each other, reminded. Hoping that it prompted a similar reaction from the man, though Bellamy waited only a few moments before continuing. "Have we met before?" The older male was not one to beat around the bush or stall. He often got straight to the point, and this particular scenario was no exception. He could have sworn they met before . . . yet he wouldn't often forget others so quickly. Something about the man before him, made Bellamy feel like he would forever remember him; that surely, he wouldn't forget someone like him. As if to help stifle the annoyance at Bellamy's failure, he took a sip of his drink, keeping his gaze on the familiar man while doing so.