Coffee and Cigarettes and Everything in Between

Karina

The drive back to my place was quiet. It's the kind of silence that you wanna get rid of once you notice it but don't know how. The kind of silence where you don't know where it even originated from. 

It has been a while since she pulled up outside my place but she didn't made a move of opening my door or opening for that matter. She didn't even move at all except for the rise and fall of her chest indicating that she's still breathing. Her eyes are fixed on the road ahead, her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.

It has never been my forté to beat around the bush. I think it's a waste of time. I ask her directly not wanting to endure another second of silence anymore. "Is there something wrong?" 

For the first time tonight she looks at me. The expression on her face is something I can't read. Something that I've never seen from her before. She didn't say anything. She stares at me with that expression of hers, unmoving. She looks back on the road ahead of us.

She sighs, a heavy one that it fills the car. "Is there something you want to tell me?" 

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" I ask back. She was the one who was mum the whole time over dinner and here she is giving me the silent treatment for the reason God knows what.

Silence.

I hate the way she isn't responding. A thousand things to talk about and here she is finding the empty road the most interesting of them all. I let out a sigh trying to keep myself calm. "Just in case you forgot, your girlfriend is a barista and not a mind reader Winter." 

She scoffs. "Obviously." 

What the hell? I wanted to say but I didn't. I'm beat up from my shift today and I still got to go to work tomorrow by noon and fighting with her is the last thing I needed right now. But aren't you fighting already? A voice pops in my head.

I look at her again, she's now looking at the window, her face away from me. Her left arm resting on the car's door, the other is still on the steering wheel.

I hate this situation right now. I'd rather have talkative Winter back. I'd rather have her shout at me for whatever reason I did to make her go silent like this. I'd rather have her tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.

I reached for her arm that's resting on the steering wheel. Thankfully she didn't brush me off. "Did I do something wrong?"

She turns to me, her face stoic. "Shouldn't you know it if you did something wrong?" She says in a flat voice.

I let go of her arm. I rub my temple in annoyance. I can't reas