She looked at me from across the table, her expression, passive, her demeanor, relaxed. Her eyes though, were sharp. Looking at me intently from behind her large pair of spectacles. There was no mistaking it, she was intent on getting what she wanted.
"post something, or I'm not talking to you." she said, softly, yet laced with purpose.
I laughed. However deathly serious she seemed, she was so incredibly cute. Like a fluffy cat who's just issued a death threat.
"but I don't know what to write about!" I protested. It was true. Nothing I would write seemed good enough, the content would either be bland and uninteresting, or the length, too short.
"I'm serious" she growled, "do you want to test me?"
I took a step back, I believed it unlikely she would actually stop talking to me just because I refused to write. Was I wrong? What harm would there be in thinking of something to write too? Was the risk of being ignored worth it? No, I concluded. I thoroughly enjoyed talking to her, and she's grown to mean so much more than that now. If writing something would make her happy, then I would gladly do it.
"Ok then, let me think of something...", I conceeded.
She let out a sweet smile. It was beautiful. It was worth it I thought, if only to see that smile.
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