This old shirt

She sat slightly hunched over, bad posture, elbow on the breakfast bar. One arm stretched out, hand splayed across the pages of her book, firmly holding it open despite the spine's protestation. The other hand held a slice of toast, thickly spread with raspberry jam, delicately dangling between her fingers. She took a large bite, with a loud crunch, and a dollop of sticky red goo was left on her lip, nestled in the corner of her mouth.

She licked and caught most of it. But not all of it. A smudge remained as she put the toast down and picked up her coffee, black, two sugars. She sipped and caught me staring at her.

"What?" she asked over the rim of her mug.

I just shook my head and tried not to smile, failing only a little.

"What?" she asked again, this time trying not to smile herself.

I walked round the bar to her and cupped her face in my hands. I kissed her gently on the corner of her mouth, taking the remains of the jam away on my own lips.

"You missed a spot," I told her softly and went back to my stool.

"I've lost my place now," she idly complained. Let go, the book had fanned open - any page could be the right page.

I watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, only for it to fall free mere seconds later, and I smiled again.

When she finished her toast, and gulped back the last of her coffee, she padded over to the sink with her crockery and put them in the bowl. She wore one of my old t-shirts, faded and shapeless, barely covering her round little bottom, and I stared at her long, pale legs, soft and smooth to the touch.

"I'm gonna have a shower," she said, went up onto tiptoes to kiss my cheek. I patted her on the behind and she slapped me, lightly, playfully, across the face before sashaying from the room. I watched her go, transfixed.

I become aware of the fact that I've been sitting, staring into space for a while now. My eyes are blurry and my cheeks are wet. A threadbare t-shirt, once emblazoned with the band name 'Canadian Drug Store' now stretched and washed-out almost to illegibility, in my hands.

I press it to my face and breathe deeply. It still smells of her.

I already know I won't get anything done today.