Regardless of what Celeste had said and done, sleep just wasn't in the cards for Aaron that night. While he was no longer worried about a sexual assault charge, the same questions vexed him. Chief among them was, 'what did it all mean?'
Aaron definitely felt something special for Celeste now; that much was certain. And it wasn't merely because she gifted him one of the most bone rattling orgasm of his entire existence, although that was a highlight in Aaron's calculation. There was something else. Something that he wanted to tell her but couldn't quite reduce to words; a sensation he got every time he pictured her wide hazel gaze and her kissy nose and her perfectly aligned purple toenails. A thrill that shot from his toes to his scalp and spun around his heart like a little whirlwind.
From time to time, he looked around the curtains in his room. The snow continued to pile up outside and visibility remained next to nothing. The only way Aaron was sure the sun rose was the lighter shade of gray in the East. Dawn brought the realization that the stubborn questions ensconced in his mind would not let him sleep at all, and so he decided to get up and start the day.
Normally on Saturday's he would go into work for a few hours. It was never articulated, but everyone knew the professional staff were expected to spend at least a few hours in the office every Saturday, even if it was only to sort through their desks or catch up on some paperwork. For young associates like Aaron, Saturday office time was unofficially officially mandatory because the managing partner might show up and advancement in the firm required face time with the managing partner in the office outside of regular business hours.
During tax season the unspoken rule of required hours for young associates who hoped for promotion went from part time Saturdays to all day Saturday and Sunday afternoon. However given the weather today, a failure to appear would be overlooked. Besides, the questions that badgered Aaron would not have let him concentrate on his work in any event.
After a pit stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a quick shower, habit led Aaron to the kitchen to plug in the coffee maker. While the coffee maker burbled to life, Aaron took a pensive seat at the kitchen table and glanced out the kitchen window. The wind still drove the snow before it and heaped it against the buildings and the cars on the street to wrap the world in thick white. For a moment the sight of winter's majesty distracted Aaron's mind from the questions that plagued him.
"That's beautiful," he whispered to himself.
"It cold," Celeste muttered from behind him and jolted Aaron from his reverie.
Celeste straggled past him, swathed in her purple bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, and Aaron just stared at her for perhaps an impolite amount of time. He couldn't help it really. This morning she was prettier than ever in his estimation. True her blonde hair hung in a loose, low ponytail, she had no makeup on, and her gait was a sleepy slump, but to Aaron all that just called attention to how the sleepy scrunch of her peach-colored cheeks emphasized her cute and kissy nose. He didn't even mind when she drowsily appropriated his coffee cup.
Because he was employed, Aaron was always the first one up in the morning and usually left before anyone else woke up. Celeste's current job meant later hours at night, so she got up later than Aaron and honestly it was unusual to see Celeste out of her bedroom before 10:30. Many times Aaron had come home from his Saturday stint at the office around noon to find Celeste fresh out of bed. It's not that she partied or clubbed much. Celeste just loved to sleep in, and that made her appearance at the breakfast table this morning a curious anomaly.
That anomaly caused new questions to bloom in Aaron's mind. What was on Celeste's mind? What should he say? What should he do? Should he say a simple "good morning" or something more intimate? Should he bring up yesterday, or wait for her to bring it up? Should he be attentive or play it cool? Should he give her a hug? A good morning kiss? Was Celeste his roommate again, or had last night changed their relationship in some fundamental way? What would happen now?
With her coffee in the misappropriated cup, Celeste sat down across the table and, as she blew on her coffee to cool it, Aaron admired her with new eyes. The delicate, sleepy way she brought the cup to her puckered lips held him spellbound and finally the force of his indiscreet stare caught Celeste's attention. When their eyes met, Aaron felt a flash of nascent intimate connection form in the air between them. It was tiny and delicate, but it was there, and its presence struck Aaron dumb. Celeste seemed to sense it too, because she shyly ducked behind her bangs and put an uncertain and self-conscious hand to her face. Aaron's heart surged involuntarily as it seemed Celeste's face glowed in the soft morning light.
"What?" Celeste asked softly.
Aaron couldn't help himself, but he didn't really want to help himself either, so he took a chance.
"You're pretty," he whispered honestly.
Celeste flushed a deeper hue of peach and tried to hide her face behind her self-conscious hand. Her lips pushed out a somnolent and adorable pout.
"No, I'm not," she murmured with a hint of sleepy timidity.
For a moment, Aaron worried he had said too much. Could it be that all Celeste didn't want any kind of a relationship with him? Maybe she thought it all was a foolish mistake between two roommates who should have known better? Maybe he had overestimated the whole encounter and Celeste just wanted things to go on as they had before? Aaron's heart sank at these thoughts. Could it be he was wrong about this small connection he felt between himself and Celeste?
Then Celeste's hazel eyes peeked skittishly from under her hair at him and Aaron sensed that maybe wasn't the case. Maybe she was as uncertain of him as he was of her? Was that uncertainty he saw in her eyes? Relief? It gave him pause. Words rushed up towards his lips. Aaron had more to say, a lot more actually, but he wasn't sure exactly how to say it or if he should say it. Instead, he hesitated, struck dumb by the fear that Celeste might flee to her room before he could tell her ... what? What should he say? The wheels of his mind spun in place as it futilely struggled to synthesize his mishmash of thoughts, fears, wants and feelings into complete sentences. Desperate to prolong the early dawn bond he felt with Celeste, Aaron blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.
"I ... ummm ... I was about to make some breakfast. You want something?"
Celeste gave him a shy smile from behind her hand. It dazzled him.
"OK."
"Great!" pronounced Aaron a bit too loudly as he stood. "Breakfast coming up!"
Even as he said it, Aaron knew he'd just put himself in a truly awkward spot. His list of talents was on the paltry side, and cooking certainly was not included among the few he possessed. In the kitchen, Aaron was a lost cause. His mother had once observed that Aaron was such a bad cook that he could burn water before it boiled. Besides the microwave, kitchen appliances baffled Aaron and since he moved in to the apartment, Aaron's last infrequent foray into cooking resulted in an apple pie so bad that not even his notoriously hungry roommates could stomach a single forkful.
Now at this critical, but amorphous juncture he had offered to make Celeste breakfast. Given his total lack of kitchen prowess, even at the best of times this was a Herculean task, but now while questions buzzed in his brain like giant hummingbirds of distraction, it was well-nigh impossible. As he opened the refrigerator to hide his consternation, Aaron could only hope that impending culinary disaster did not put Celeste off ... whatever this fragile little connection between them was this morning.
"Let's see here," he murmured gamely, as if he had not already resigned himself to failure.
Aaron's eyes roved over the contents of the refrigerator and, like a man overboard, hoped for a lifeline. He saw a dozen eggs. What about scrambled eggs? No. His last attempt at scrambled eggs produced a pan full of black rocks at which the normally ravenous park squirrels turn up their noses. There might be some bacon, but any bacon Aaron had cooked previously inevitably wound up as hard as shoe leather. No. Pancakes? He shook his head. Pancakes had too many ingredients and he was bound to set off the smoke detectors and then the whole building would be mad because they would have to go out into the snow to wait for the fire department. No to pancakes as well. Dejectedly Aaron realized he was quickly running out of options.
Behind him Celeste put his coffee cup down on the table after her latest drink. He could feel her eyes on his back and the pressure mounted. What was he going to do? Toast with jelly? Reheated pork fried rice? Aaron pinched his face in disapproval. Last night as a given, he had hoped that on this new day they would tease out a new definition of Aaron and Celeste, but now the best he could muster for her was leftover Chinese food with a side of toast and ... did he even have any jelly? Despite the persistently cool breeze from the refrigerator, Aaron felt himself begin to sweat.
His mind raced alphabetically through every type of breakfast food he could recall and summarily discarded each due to either scarcity or improbability until he reached the letter "W". Wait! That was it! He slammed the refrigerator door and hopefully yanked open the freezer and instantly felt like he had been paroled. A choir of angels literally rang in his ears as he beheld a box of Eggo waffles perched on the glacier of permanent freezer frost.
"Waffles!" Aaron barked a little too loud in relief. "Let's have waffles!"
