What we yearn for (unedited)

10 Brielle

I think I may have overstepped.
The thought, the possibility pierces me right in the gut the second Milan abruptly gets up from his seat and darts across the studio. He seems eager.  fidgety.
To get away.
from me.
Or maybe it's to answer the buzzer sounding off at his door.
"Shit, she's here." I hear him murmur.

Or it could be a mixture of both.

Whichever it is, I suddenly feel out of place, like I've over extended my welcome and perhaps my time with Milan.

I'm such an idiot.

While he's at the door, I take it as a moment to get Eli and I ready.

Eli's still nestled and fast asleep in his stroller, so it just takes me slipping on my jacket and grabbing the diaper backpack from the sofa to be ready.

I'm ready to say my cordial goodbyes to Milan and his client before slipping out. only when I turn us toward the door, He and said client, a girl nearly as tall as he is, are engrossed in a rather animated and fast paced conversation. In a language I can't quite pinpoint at that. besides not wanting to interrupt their meeting, because from their body language and demeanor it looks as if the two are at least close friends, I can't help but squint at some similarities between the two. Both have ombre brunette to blonde hair, but while Milan's has some type of texture to it, hers is straighter. The full flushed pink lips are also something else they share as well.

Are they relate...?

No.

I shake my head.

It's not my business. He didn't say anything about it beyond her being a client and that's where my knowledge needs to end. there wasn't any real need for me bug him any more than I already have.

Even though some nagging feeling in me felt the want to do so.

I make it probably a couple of steps toward them before they stop talking and both turn to me. there's a noticeable pause in the air at my entrance. The nameless girl, blinks, looking at me before settling her eyes on Milan expectantly. Milan though, his body language is almost as stiff as his smile at me. it doesn't feel genuine at all and it only makes me reinforce my want to hurry and leave.

I'm about to excuse myself, but the tall woman shoves her slender elbow into Milan's side.

"I see you are not going to introduce her," she says playfully rolling her green hazel eyes. Her accent is a little thick, but her English is still clear for me to understand. She gives me a friendly smile. "I am Tereza. Milan's gorgeous sister."

"O-Oh? oh, wow," my mouth gaps slightly at the news. I can't help but to gawk and look between the two. It made sense. The similarities between the two. But at the same time, they seemed different; her accent was more apparent than his for starters, then there was the hair texture difference, but lastly the tones of skin. she was more of warm ivory hue, whereas Milan was at least a shade or two darker.

"Different mothers," Milan answers my unasked question. "But yeah, we grew up together for a bit until I Monika took me in. We kept in touch though and she occasionally visited."

"I...see" I say, and outwardly leave it at that.

Mentally, I'm trying to backtrack and recall if he ever mentioned that the client that was visiting was in fact his sister. But no, I can't rightly say he even gave a hint at it. then again, this is Milan. he won't offer up information pertaining to his past unless he feels inclined to. and even then, he'll only tell you a limited amount of info for a short span of time until he gets either bored or uncomfortable. I can imagine he becomes even more cagey about the people in his past when hes in a mood like this, so I don't plan to even attempt to ask Tereza about herself. However, I didn't want to leave on a rude note.