My Short Stories

The Café Note

(A/N) I know, I know, a hetero relationship! But come on, this is cute. I wrote it in middle school, but it's still cute to me now.

Fayre sat silently at her favorite book café, unaware of the world moving and bustling around her. Her white-blonde bangs fell on her forehead gracefully. She was too engrossed in her book to realize the people walking by the snowy window, buying Christmas presents for their family members and making sure none of the other members had the same mindset. Her current read looked worn out, and anyone passing her would most likely assume she didn't care for her books. The truth was the exact opposite.

Fayre likes to call it "rescuing" books, ones that are so damaged that others won't even bat an eye at them. Those books specifically catch her eye. She sees things differently, imagining that those "hurt" books are very good books, so good that the readers put them back on the shelves for someone else to find and enjoy, just like they did. Fayre believed that no one ever reads the same book and that everyone sees things differently, even if they have the same exact words, cover, and author.

Unfortunately, Fayre also didn't notice the man coming in looking for the one specific book that she was reading. The man stalked over to her, soaking and pink-faced from the snow covering his coat and hair. His sandy-brown hair fell in his face, encasing one of his eyes with black darkness and mystery, so that the only one to see it would be Fayre--if only she would raise her head and see him standing there. He waited for her to look up, but he got impatient. He snapped his fingers in front of Fayre's face, distracting and frustrating the gentle girl who only ever got frustrated when her attention was drawn away at a good part of her book.

Fayre looked up at the man, her abnormally pale face turning a slight shade of pink, filled with indignation from the disturbance. He huffed in her face, pointing at the book, his fingers somewhat blue from the cold air and crystallized snow. Fayre's eyes widened at the sight of his eyes, the darker one seeming to glow a bright green underneath his hair, the uncovered one a normal--not to Fayre--sky blue. Slowly, she realized what he was pointing at and motioned towards the book, making sure it was the right object. He rolled his eyes and sighed, twitching his head to move his hair from his eye slightly.

"Yes," the man stated. His voice was smooth, which surprised Fayre. She expected him to sound raspy or angry, but he sounded softer than he looked. She lowered her shoulders from her hunched position. She didn't know how to answer him, for she was mute and couldn't answer anyone without sign language. Books were her escape from the sadness of reality. There, she didn't have to face the fact that she couldn't easily stand up for herself.

"But I'm reading it," Fayre wanted to say. She sat there in a comfortable silence, thinking of ways to tell him. She raised her finger and, without a sound, told him to wait. She picked up a napkin and quickly scribbled a note on it with a pen she had in her pocket, giving him a message about her name and her bond with silence. She added the fact that she was reading the book and didn't want to stop at a good part, and once the man saw the note he instantly softened. His eyes brightened as he thought of an idea to help her. He sat down in the empty seat across from her, a seat that Fayre only new to be unoccupied for her whole life. She spent most of her time and life in that café, and never once saw a person sit in that spot. She winced as the chair creaked, hoping that it wouldn't break from the force of a body after years and years.

The man told her, "My name is Cato. how about... How about I read the book to you? That way, we can both get a taste of it and imagine it together."

Fayre's attitude immediately illuminated, and she sat up in her seat, her Amber eyes shining like the bright sky during a sunset. Her smile widened as she nodded. Cato settled into the seat, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Fayre listened intently to the author's--rather, Cato's--every word.

From then on, Fayre and Cato became the best of friends and stood up for each other, maybe not always with voice but action. This moment was the beginning of the rest of their lives together, in which they would savour every second of every day.

~

(A/N) I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading! Make sure you're drinking enough water and eating enough! Love y'all!

and remember...

"You don't have to be perfect. you just have to be there."
-Ryan Sinclair

Hope you enjoyed!
~Will