adored

2

The days pass for Leo DeMarco in a very monotonous way. Life is supposedly unpredictable and wonderful in many aspects, yet this didn't feel true for him. 

He would spend his days working and his nights trying to pass time that was so very insistent on moving as slow as can be. Only on Fridays did he allow himself to go to the little cafe on the corner of tulip lane. And though he willed it to bring back happy memories it always ended the same way with an empty feeling in his chest and silent prayers being made.

Liyana Bluemel:

I grab my apron from the hanger, the name tag reading 'Samantha' because I hadn't the chance to change it yet. Samantha was a pretty enough name to go by for now anyways.

I tie it up quickly and make my way back out from my short lived break.

Fridays were always an eventful shift. The end of the week tended to bring more people into the cafe, a somewhat end of the week treat I guess. 

Today alone I had encountered a man dressed in a clown suit, his face paint slowly melting off of his face. His clown nose was kinda running down to his lips but I complimented it nonetheless and gave him what I hoped was an encouraging smile. 

For a clown he looked very done with life and I felt that to my core.

There was also an old lady and her precious dog. I used the word 'precious' as thats what she thought of it. Not me. To be honest, I had to force myself not to recoil into myself and beg the ground to open up then and there. And yes, I petted it when she said "isn't he such a dear? Go on love, he wont bite."

Safe to say I was grateful when she walked out with her bag full of seven muffins and two tarts, and took that thing far far away.

Let's see, then there was a pair who I was so very sure were siblings, their appearance being so similar. that was until they partook in very un-sibling like affection and my eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.

 Gosh, some people really do fall for the guy version of themselves.

The bell rung signalling the entrance of more customers and I almost sighed out loud. Two broad men, one with dark curly hair and the other adoring lighter brown fluffy hair walked in.

Once they reached the counter they were very different to their sort of pretty demeanour, as I found out upon bestowing the devastating news that the lemon tarts had finished for the day.

 I know, heartbreaking.

"What do you mean there's no lemon tarts left?"

"Well sir-"

"What kind of rubbish bakery is this? Doesn't even have basic bloody stuff."

"Our muffins are good though" I tried smiling, hoping it would dazzle them into taking a muffin and just leaving. My smile is obviously not swoon worthy because they continued to shout over a lemon tart, drawing everyone's attention.

Kill me.

"Listen girly either you go in there and find one before I break your nose for wasting my time, or you make it worth my while in other ways."

He smirked in a slimy way that made my insides flip upside down. Not in a swoony butterflies way, which I am yet to feel for anyone, but in a 'I'm going to throw up, I hate it here' way.

"Look I'm sorry sirs but you're going to have to buy what we have available or make your way out. You are disturbing our other customers"

The curly haired one leaned over the counter slightly, his movements smooth and fast and before i knew it he had grabbed my arm. His fingernails dug into my arm slightly, the imprints of his nails surely making an appearance underneath my sweater. I winced inaudibly and thought about how it really was never this deep. 

All this for a sub par lemon tart that they could probably buy from any supermarket. 

Gosh men are dramatic.

If i wasnt on shift i'd have leaned down and bitten his arm as hard as i could, in hoped of inflicting a bit of pain on him. 

However a third voice arose before I could do anything.

"Is there a problem here?"

I recognised him, it was Mr. Brownie. Well im guessing that isn't his legal name but who knows? If it was i wouldn't judge. Its just every week he comes in for two brownies, never once trying anything new.

He was very 'swoon worthy' and that is all I'll say on that matter for now.

It was as if recognition dawned upon them all and a sudden shift of demeanour occurred. My arm was instantly released and it was Mr. Brownie who spoke first.

"Pensi che io rappresenti questo tipo di trattamento delle donne? Hmm?"

"Ca-"

"Vi suggerisco di inziare entrambi a cercare lavori alternativi se volete essere in grado di pagare le bollette e comprare più di quelle brutte maglietge."

Their eyes widened at whatever the man had uttered, and left wordlessly. Well, actually not before putting a very generous tip in my jar and mumbling a 'sorry ma'am'.

I could buy a new book with that money, maybe even treat myself to a pretty hardcover one.

I stood wordlessly for a few seconds, before stepping towards him slowly. My hand ran along my other arm, the warmth of my sweatshirt proving comforting in a weird way. 

"Thankyou so much. Im not too sure what you just said, well not at all, but y'know you got them out of here. I appreciate that."

He looked at me only once, his eyes almost searching for harm, before nodding.

He cleared his throat, "You have a good night"

He paused, his eyes flitting to my tag.

"Samantha"