Something to come of it Part 1

He closed the door cautiously. It was habit, she was there and asleep and even though he stopped caring long ago there was something inside that kept him polite towards her. The wall to the left was books, stacked and piled two deep, sometimes three. The books provided solace from the random days that strained his thought and encompassed him. The light from the window created a gray film throughout the room, reaching far into the corners the light stretched across the walls spilling onto the kitchen floor. He silently shut the drapes and turned on the artificial light. He hung his coat and walked into the kitchen collapsing into a chair at the table. It was habit also.
“How was work?” He looked startled but knew she would be awake.
“Same.” He replied honestly. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I was waiting for you.”
“You shouldn’t do that,” he looked up finding her eyes. “It’s not necessary.”
“I haven’t seen you,” she said. “I miss you when you’re gone all day.”
Her hair fell long across her face catching the side of her mouth as she spoke. She gently brushed it away, pushing it behind her ears. The small of her eyes flared looking ambitiously across the room to where he was sitting.
“Are you going to sleep?” She said it with too much emotion.
His smile folded painfully. He looked down at the flowered tabletop. “No, I’m not tired.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m leaving.” She said, still trying to find interest.
“I know.”
He continued looking down at the table, not wanting to acknowledge her. It didn’t hurt, a year ago it might have hurt, not wanting to loo that’s when he knew she was going to leave. He spread his fingers wide across the floral linen, touching every pedal he could with clammy widespread hands not wanting to look up and acknowledge her.
She opened the door with a strong reluctance, the gray light spilling onto the floor. He looked up from the table, she turned around, her hair still caught in the corner of her mouth, and walked down the steps to the road.
He sat at the table for a long time looking out the open door. The gray light slowly wandered out of the house and moved across the floor and down the steps as the sun rested behind the tall buildings.