01: Retrograde
His falsetto floats, then shatters you. Like you're trapped in his echo.
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐
A sharp hiss echoed through the tranquil coffee shop as the fork pierced her hand. Thick, crimson coloured liquid seeped out of the patchy wound almost instantly, not letting the platelets do their work. Wisdom and love have been chasing her for years and she's always been fast, way too fast for her own good. The silent glares and perched up stares from the angry costumers seemed to add flavour to her misery already. She quickly pressed water against the small cut, now notibly swelled like a cherry before diving back to prepare the usual cheese garlic sandwich and exquisite frappe which never really turned out to be exquisite, for the impatiently waiting customer.
The sweet morning dew was still lingering on the brown crusty leaves, now devoid of their glory which used to bear flowers and fruits in the serenity of spring amidst the happily chirping birds and bells of bookstores swinging by the gentle breeze. Now, the aroma of the frappe mixed with the tension of being perfect didn't seem to jeopardize with the weather outside the golden tinted glass doors looking outward to the busy lane. As if, everything was mocking her for being hasty, clumsy and imperfect. Things never turned out in her favour, not when while walking down the lane she witnessed a miraculously pretty boy with a denim jacket adorned over his shoulders, seemingly unbothered by the traffic and buzzing cars as he walked smoothly with his headphones around his soft, silky hair. She wanted to know which brand shampoo he used. His eyelashes were long and fluttering as he blinked, making her jealous, almost instantly. His eyes seemed glossy, like a puppy's, left by it's owner. He looked like he could cry anytime.
She was too busy noticing the guy she didn't realise a car was charging towards him, well he seemed quite unbothered too, as if he knew where it would end. Without thinking of anything she ran towards the guy and grabbed him from the possible accident. Or so what it seemed, he looked unhappy, almost disappointed. As if his life didn't matter. She was panting already, eyes half closed trying to catch her breath. Her midnight blue hair falling over her face in loose strands, hiding those rosy cheeks.
Then a sudden sultry voice, seemingly succulent and smooth spoke up "You didn't have to do that." The words rolled off his tongue like a manuscript, too perfect, even when it was languid, his drowsy and smoky eyes spoke volumes she never understood even after making the sudden eye contact. He watched her, intently as if memorising every inch so he could paint her in a canvas of misery and melancholy.
"You were going to get hit by the car if it wasn't for me." She spoke, her voice coming out slower than usual infront of this intimidating stranger who seemingly didn't have any regard for his life.
"That's the problem. Because of you." His mouth closed again, droping bombs after bombs as he highlighted the word 'You' with a lower pitch. His expression brooding, leering over her current bleak one.
She didn't expected this retaliation. No one would. Is he a crackhead? Or on crack? She didn't know which one. His expression remained stern as he slowly lowered the beige coloured earphones from his silky hair, ruffling them, making her suck in a breath at how fine he looked even if he was being an asshole.
"We have a score to settle, sweetheart." The honey dwelled syllables slipped off his tongue, her olive cheeks instantly heat up to a sweet, shameful shade of carmine at the comment. She couldn't tell if it was a threat or a promise. She watched him give her a sly grin before walking away to the other lane.
She was glued to her place like a statue, a dumb one. Bolting from her reverie she took a slow step but her knees gave up from the intensity of the situation and she tripped over nothing. She could swore on 253 gods that she saw a flicker of concern over his face as he stopped in his tracks after hearing her quiet gasp as her knees scraped against the gravel. But it was slowly replaced by nothing his smoky eyes illuminating secrets as he walked away from her sight after being assured she helped herself up. Well, all this happened exactly nine days ago near Elora's wine shop.
She never wanted to see that sweet looking guy again but here she is, in her coffee shop, with him as her costumer who ordered for a caramel mocha with a cheesecake. Fate is a bitch is high red stilletos. She was immersed in making his food, meanwhile he kept stealing glances at her despite not wanting to. The sun was already peeking from beneath the horizon, orange and lavender, laughing at her misery. After few minutes she was finally done with his order and walked towards his table near the aloevera flower pot with the tray in hand ready to serve him. As she stood infront of his table, his eyes scanned her annoyed expression masked by her imperfect eyeliner and blue eyeshadow and those fluffed up rosy cheeks he wanted to poke, to annoy her more. She didn't make eye contact with him.
"I don't think i ordered for this, sweetheart." His voice came softer, with a hint of mischief. Her eyes squinted in disbelief as she lowered the tray on the table.
"Are you kidding me?" She spoke.
"No, I'm adulting you. I ordered for a cappuccino and crossiants. How ridiculous. Looks like, I'd have to give this cafe a negative star rating." He spoke casually watching her face display multiple shades of confusion.
"I made what you ordered. If you want to eat, then eat otherwise the door is that way." She firmly pointed towards the exit, a small polar bear wearing a red scarf keychain hanging from the top of the doorframe. His eyes darted towards the exit before settling back on her face, ready to burst anytime like a ticking bomb.
"Oh how rude, is this how you talk to your costumers?"
Her anger reached it's boiling point and she did something she shouldn't have, something she wished to undo. Hell, even a human sacrifice wouldn't help her undo it. She spilled the brown beverage over his face, soaking the crisp white shirt he was wearing along with his blue knitted sweater, even a dry cleaning would miserably fail to wash away the messy stains. His jaw ticked as his face was caked with the droplets, dripping down his hair and chin. He ran a hand through his hair and suddenly a harmonious laugh rang through his throat, easing the tension. She couldn't understand, is he possessed?
"Well, fuck me. That was hot. Can i get a tissue paper atleast?" He asked using the same sultry voice from that day which could melt butter and obviously, her senses.
Her knees felt weak again, feet stuck on the floor like a statue. He shrugged his shoulders and pointed out towards her napkin with multiple bunny designs across it tucked on her waist. Before she could imply the meaning of his words he snatched the napkin, his breath fanning over the yellow fabric, calloused fingers tracing the pattern with sheer delicacy as he muttered—
"So cute. You like bunnies huh?" He smirked at her glare as he wiped off his face with her napkin gently, being careful not to get too much of the the sweet creamy mess on it but just enough to get on her nerves.
She looked horrified, almost at the verge of a breakdown. Ready to claw at his eyes. "How dare you-" Her voice got struck in her throat, hoarse. "Don't worry, I'll run a dry cleaning and give it back to you. See you soon."
He kept exactly fourty-two dollars bill on the counter before taking a last glance at her and left. The polar bear keychain rang softly as the door closed. The sun had set long ago, now even the crescent moon seemed to laugh at her.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆
