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Tobias couldn’t help it.
Maybe it was because he had grown up on a farm and was used to waking early. Perhaps his body could sense that the sun was just about to rise. He wondered if it was one of those things where you start a habit one day and the routine sticks with you throughout your entire life.
But maybe, just maybe, it was because he knew that if he padded into the kitchen of his apartment and opened the shades to his window, he would see her there, too, in the flat directly across from him.
The same sterile white light filled the identical flats adorned in the same bland white paint. She had a rack of houseplants he could see in the background that were either very well-kept or plastic. No, they flowered sometimes – they had to be real. When he walked around the building to go to his car, he always saw a balcony covered with pots of flowers and hanging plants. Perhaps it was the same flat.
And it was in this apartment where she would share her half of the ritual. She had slim, long fingers that gracefully held an assortment of floral printed coffee mugs over the past several months. Her hair was long and dark, but he couldn’t really distinguish the color very well within the apartment. Sometimes it was secured in a couple of braids down her back. When she turned to retrieve the honey in her cupboard, he could see them sway with her. Other times, she left it down, and it reached further down than he could see.
He completed the custom along with her. Select the tea. Loose leaf or bags, whatever tickled their fancy. Wait for the kettle. His was electric, and hers was on the stove. He could see her walking with the steaming canary yellow vessel, pouring it over the leaves gently. Sometimes she moved her lips as she did this. He often wondered if she was speaking or singing, so he had taken to singing whatever song popped into his head at the moment. His own green electric kettle was added to a jasmine green tea bag this morning, in his favorite mug shaped like the head of a ginger cat. Missed opportunity for ginger tea or chai, he supposed.
He was curious, Laurel decided. Or perhaps she was, she realized with a blush. How serendipitous it was that she awoke every morning just before the sunrise and trotted to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, eagerly opening the shades to the kitchen to see if he was there in the flat across from her, doing the same exact thing.
He always was.
The young man’s auburn curls hung into his eyes as he added the tea to his mug. Today it was fashioned in the shape of a cat’s head with little ceramic ears. Other days it had been patterned mugs of plaid, stripes, and yes, more cats. Always ginger cats. As she walked around the building in the morning, she would pass by an apartment with a long-haired orange tabby sunbathing on the windowsill and she was certain this had to be where he lived. The young man always had such a pleasant, serene smile on his face as he prepared his beverages, she realized, leaning on the counter to watch him, her braids falling in front of her shoulders. A pair of warm brown eyes flicked up to meet her pale green ones and she went scarlet, looking back into her mug, where her spiced chai was steeping in a floral-printed mug. Ah, perhaps she should have done lavender to match the mug…
It looked like he was singing. She couldn’t read his lips to make out the words, but she found herself singing a soft, soothing melody, regardless.
When the time was up for steeping, she peeked up once more to see what he was up to. He was watching her with kind eyes, waiting for her. He picked up his mug, and she did the same, offering a toast to one another across the gap between them. They had completed this ritual for several months now, she realized with a smile as she shyly waved at him. His tea must’ve been hot, because his cheeks had gone pink. She giggled, feeling the heat rise to her own face. They typically finished their tea with a simple nod in farewell and went on their day. She looked up from her mug and he was gone. Laurel wasn’t sure why it had caused her such dismay, but she set down her mug and craned to see into the window across from hers. He returned with a notepad, playfully brandishing a pencil and scribbling something down. He folded it and she held her breath as he opened the window and used a clothespin to attach it to the clothesline that connected their units. She nearly choked on her tea, shyly reeling in the piece of paper, her heart hammering in her throat.
Good morning. May I ask your name?
They very easily could open their windows and speak to one another, but there was something so deliciously mysterious and alluring to it. She grinned and ran off to retrieve her own writing materials. She scrawled down her answer, folding it into a cute square.
He waited with bated breath as she sent the new message. He pulled on the crank, the paper slowly moving towards him. He peeked at her before opening it. She was sipping at her tea, a smirk playing at her mouth.
Good morning to you as well. Yes, you may.
He laughed aloud at the response, and it was more beautiful than the birds’ songs in the trees surrounding them. She leaned her chin on her hand, relishing in the sample of his voice and the reaction her message had garnered.
He pinned another message on the line, and she cranked it back over.
Cheeky, aren’t we? My name is Tobias.
Her gaze moved across the way. His cheeks were flushed in the morning sunlight. She wrote her response in careful, tidy letters.
My name is Laurel. It’s nice to put a name to a face.
Her heart was in her throat as he opened the note. Had she been too bold?
Tobias looked up from the paper, gazing at her, almost as if deciding whether or not the name suited her.
A beautiful young woman named Laurel who likes tea at sunrise and caring for plants…
He rather liked it as he beamed at her and he watched with interest as her blush intensified. Casting her a charming smile, he forced himself to slow down his writing, lest it be illegible. He peeked up at her every so often and she looked like she was standing on her toes to try to get a better look. He playfully shielded his handwriting with his free hand, as if she could actually read it all the way across. The result was simply more curiosity, and he watched as she sat on the kitchen counter, sticking her head and shoulders out of the window, the morning sunlight shining upon her. Her eyes were a lovely pale green, and the hair that he thought was black or brown was actually a deep emerald green, which suited her nicely. She had a darker complexion and a really cute face.
A face he’d like to see a little closer.
He took his time folding the note, and he watched with interest as her eyes widened in anticipation. She’d sip at her tea occasionally, but she climbed back on the counter, folding her arms across her chest, pretending to pout with impatience.
She bit back the urge to call him a tease aloud, but let her overly animated expressions do the talking. She was rewarded with another beautiful delighted laugh that made her heart pound.
He climbed onto his own counter, emerging his head and shoulders through the window. The sunlight fell on his loose auburn curls and olive skin and his lips turned up into a flirtatious smile as he held a carefully folded origami lotus flower between his fingers. He pinned it to the line and sipped at his tea with amusement at her curiosity turning into delight at the gift. A surprised squeak left her lips at the crafted flower and he drank in her reaction, motioning for her to unfold it, all the while holding his breath. She opened it with shaking fingers.
Want to meet at the bakery across the street in 15 minutes?
She looked back over at him. He was still slightly leaning out the window, his cheeks now scarlet, nervously waiting her response. She nodded so vigorously her braids bounced, and they both shared shy chuckles that were quickly hushed by the chugging of tea. Their eyes met, and they nodded to each other, as was their custom. Only this time, both of them hurried to put away their tea mugs and spoons to get dressed and freshened up properly for their first outing together.