The Fragrance of Dark Coffee

I sat quietly in the cafe, listening to the patter of raindrops against the glass. I'd been starring at my laptop screen for the better part of an hour, hoping, simply hoping that today would be the day that I broke the non-writing streak. Today would be the day to end my writers block. No such luck. The barista had already come over to refill my coffee mug with a slight smile. I just kept starring offering a soft 'thank you' of recognition. I sighed and rubbed my eyes, looking across the way at the fireplace. Maybe a change of seating... I gathered my things, unplugged my laptop and took a seat in one of the over sized arm chairs in front of the hearth. I sighed again. More comfortable certainly, but coupled with the jazz playing in the background, all I could think of was home. As fondly as I thought of the the warmth that once existed there, it didn't help me write one sentence. There was a small bit of shifting in the arm chair next to me, so I looked over and offered a smile to the stranger. I looked back to the computer screen and shook my head. The coffee was growing cold., not that I had taken so much as a sip, since she refilled it.

“What brings you here?” The voice was soothing, like the jazz, a perfect addition to the afternoon.

“My muse needed a change of scenery, I offer and smirk a little realizing that I sounded a bit like a crazy person. “Sorry.” I chuckled and felt the blush as it rose to my cheeks.

“Why apologize for the truth?” I could feel his eyes on me as he spoke. I turned to meet them and almost froze in place. They were beautiful. Blue with the lightest flecks of green intermixed. I immediately felt self conscious, but not for my clothes or appearance, but for my facade as it melted away with the rain. I couldn't manage to keep up the snarky, writer like attitude, I'd held up for this long. Those eyes begged for honesty.

“Because, the truth isn't what most want to hear. Just a neat fabrication, all wrapped up neatly and presented to them with a big bow.” I held out my hands in a mocking present giving gesture. He smiled and nodded, looking back to the fire. I examined him for a moment longer. Auburn colored hair, a little scruffy with a plaid shirt. I smiled to myself and looked back to my blank screen.

“What's your name?” He asked, gaze unchanged, fixated on the flames as they moved across the logs.

“Samantha.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Samantha. My name's Geoff.” He raised his coffee mug in a small salute and took a small amount into his mouth. I don't know why, but I seemed to pay close attention to his movements. I too picked up my mug and took a sip. The conversation seemed to die off, but I began to write. I wrote for nearly an hour when Geoff stood, putting a guitar case over his shoulder. I looked up from my writing to see his hand extended to me, a small scrap of paper within it.

“Here. Should you want to chat sometime.” I took the piece of paper and smiled; offering my hand to shake his. Instead, he kissed my hand and bowed, before leaving out into the rainy day. I couldn't help but smile a little. His scent had been dark, but I couldn't place it. I simply smiled and picked up my coffee mug again, taking in the fragrance of the coffee. I starred off into the depths of the fire, relaxed.

“Geoff...” I read softly and put the scrap in my pocket.