Sunflowers - Medusa x Blind Woman Short Story

Sunflowers

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of a past rape (no graphic scene), rape culture, victim-blaming, emotional abuse, and self-harm (no cutting) ⚠️

Medusa hates wearing sunglasses. No, she despises them. But if she doesn't wear them then anyone that looks into her eyes will turn to stone. It is between wearing plastic on her face or getting an earful from Athena. She opts for the former and shrugs on a black leather jacket.

There is a pile of cardboard boxes a few doors ahead. She walks around them and outside. Colorful leaves crunch under her black boots.

The wave of people on the bustling New York City sidewalks part for her. Some dare glances at her snake hair. Their dark green scaly bodies bob with each step. Some slither their pink tongues out.

She is used to the looks of disgust and weariness. Been receiving them ever since Athena punished her all those years ago. She clenches her hands and enters the coffee shop. The smell of ground coffee beans and sugary pastries greets her.

Everyone in line looks back and steps to the side. Medusa smirks and walks up to the register. Someone she doesn't recognize is working it. Must be a newbie. His eyes widen at her sage green skin.

"W-what can I get for you, ma'am?"

Definitely a newbie.

"Black tea."

"Do you want a venti or a grande?"

"What's the difference." She looks at his name tag. "Riley."

"Grande is large. Venti is a 20 oz cup."

"That doesn't answer my question." Medusa slips her hands into her jacket pockets.

"A grande is 16 fluid oz and a venti is–"

A familiar clip-clopping comes from the back. A centaur woman with long blonde hair walks up next to Riley. Her strong pale arms are crossed.

"Medusa, I would appreciate it if you didn't harass every newbie on their first day," Bree, the manager, says. She starts making her drink.

"But it's so fun to watch them cower."

The human barista boy won't meet her gaze. His shoulders are shaking. She wears a mask of annoyance over her guilt.

"Here you go. One black tea."

She sips it. Needs lemon and sugar.

"How's work?" Bree asks. Her blonde tail swishing behind her.

"Work is work." She hands her some cash.

"What do you do anyway? I've known you for five years and still have no idea."

She smirks and takes a sip. "I'll leave it to your imagination."

Everyone watches her leave.

The smirk drops when she returns home. She tosses her sunglasses off and goes into the kitchen. She slices a lemon from the bowl on the counter and squeezes some into her tea along with a little sugar. She feeds some to her snakes.

Perfect.

She goes into the back room and flicks the lights on. A clay-stained pottery wheel is in the middle of the room. Glazed and unglazed pottery line shelves on the walls. An electric kiln sits in its own room off to the side. A ventilation tube comes out from the bottom going into the wall.