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I stop short when I walk back into her living room and see she’s asleep. I take the soup and crackers back into the kitchen and after scouring the cabinets I finally locate a plastic bowl with a lid and pour all the soup in there and store it in the refrigerator, intending on reheating it once she awakens. I quietly walk back into the living room and sit down on the old beat up chair in the corner of the room and watch her sleep. She looks younger in her slumber but even without makeup she’s beautiful. I noticed she doesn’t wear much and I like that. I’m finding I want to know more about her. What are her parents like? Where did she grow up? What are her likes and dislikes to all different things? Why the hell doesn’t she have a fucking cellphone?
My eyes finally leave her and scan around the small room. She’s obviously a neat freak as everything is in its proper place and clean. Built in bookshelves along the longest wall, the books seem to be in order by author, a few shelves are more vacant but hold little nick knacks and framed pictures. I see what I imagine is her as a little girl, holding the hand of a woman who may be her mother. Both are smiling and look like they are close. Several other framed pictures are of her either by herself or with the same woman, but I don’t see any of them with a man, a father. That’s another story I’d like to know. Of course, she may want to know about my parents, and I’d tell her but it would be hard for me. How do you tell someone about your life growing up without parents and want them not to feel sorry for you? As I’ve gotten older it became easier to live with them gone and without the love and support of my grandparents I know I would have turned out differently.
Sitting on a small table across from her old and well-worn couch is a thirteen inch TV. On the bottom shelf of the table are magazines neatly stacked and a couple of books that maybe she was recently reading. I know her kitchen is small but kept clean and tidy as well. I can imagine her bathroom and bedroom are in the same cleanliness and my mind immediately wonders what her bed looks like.
A movement catches my eye and I look over at Emma. “Mmmm,” a groan leaves her sweet mouth as she stirs and when her eyes open lazily she catches me staring at her. “What time is it?” She croaks her voice almost gone.
I look down at my watch and then back into her eyes. “Seven thirty.” She struggles to sit up, so I rush over landing on one knee and help her with my hands under her arms, lifting her a little to lay back against her pillow. “Hey, you don’t have to do it all yourself. Let me help you,” I whisper. Her eyes snap to mine. Her chest rising and falling from the strain of her exertion. Standing up, I sit down on the coffee table and lean down, my elbows resting on my legs.
“Wow. You’ve been here for a long time. Hours. I’m sorry I’m not better company. You must be bored.” She covers her mouth with her hand as she coughs.
I’m up and quickly talking over my shoulder, “I was afraid to leave. You looked so peaceful and I can tell you’re exhausted.” After getting a bottled water from the fridge I take it back to her and watch her throat constrict as she drinks. “I’ll just….” I head back to the kitchen and take the bowl of soup out removing the lid and place it in the microwave. Once the soup is warmed up I pour some in a bowl, grab a spoon and napkin and take them into the living room, setting everything down on the coffee table. I look up to find her sitting up. Her hair is a bunched up mess, eyes swollen, bags underneath, and I swear she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Here. Try to get some of this down. When was the last time you ate?”
I watch as she leans over, taking the spoon, scooping up some soup and as her lips form around it, I swear my cock twitched. Her eyes close and I think I heard a small moan as she swallows. “That tastes so good.” My smile spreads and she continues to eat. After eating half of the contents she looks up and catches me staring. “So, aren’t you afraid you’ll get caught here? I mean, not that I don’t appreciate everything but…. I don’t want you to lose your job.”
I shift in my seat trying to conceal my cock that’s straining to be set free and smile. “Well, I informed Mr. Drake that you were ill and asked for your Calculus homework and I brought you the next assignment from my class as well. I figure I can help you get caught up. I’m glad that you at least emailed me your last assignment so you’re not so far behind with me. Don’t worry. It’s all good.”
Her phone rings and I quickly get up and grab it from the kitchen and hand it to her. She looks at the cordless receiver, which I didn’t even think they made anymore, and rolls her eyes. “Hi, Mom. Yes, I’m eating.” Her eyes move to mine and she smiles. “I know. My voice will be better tomorrow. Yes, I’m taking my vitamins and drinking juice.” She squints and shrugs at me.