Fangs of Desire (BWWM)

03 'Eyes'

11 am

Bean and Pearl Cafe

After today's lectures ended, then studying for an hour while I listened to Chloe talk about her sexcapades, I quickly rushed out of the campus to go work my afternoon shift at the local cafe. I enter the cafe through the back where I am met with a messy break room and my boss sighs with relief when she hears me enter.

The smell of Bean and Pearl cafe is a scent I looked forward to a lot. Fresh bread and sweet pastries waft throughout the shop all day long. After my whole life working here, one would expect to grow tired of it, but I looked forward to it everyday.

I tie the deep green apron at my back and slipped into some comfortable shoes. Rather than being one of the bakers, I work the counter and the register along with a coworker I've grown to be good friends with. Today was the day that my coworker had separate shifts. Unfortunately, I  have to work alone for the day.

The sun was showing signs of slowly descending from the morning sun. It spotted the sky in dusty pinks and watercolor oranges. The purples and blues of the previous night were beginning to fade away behind the fluffy, dull blue colored clouds. I stifle a yawn as I stand behind the cashier counter, trying my best to appear attentive as customers come in and out of the cafe.

I wasn't able to sleep much last night. Meaning, I went to bed hella late after the club. The customer who is a familiar face, one that I've come to recognize from his daily visits enters the cafe. He always has the same order – a black coffee with no sugar, a routine as constant as day.

"Hi Jade," he greets me, a hint of weariness in his voice.

"Let me guess the usual?" I reply, mustering a smile as he nods and then I  punch in his order. The register chimes softly, and I retrieve a paper cup, filling it with the hot, dark brew.

He leans on the counter, his gaze fixed on something distant. "You hear about the missing people lately?" he asks, his tone casual yet carrying a weight of concern.

"Huh?" I manage to say, my attention splitting between his words and my own fatigue.

He lets out a sigh, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "You know, the missing woman, folks around the neighborhood have been talking about it."

"Oh, yeah," I murmur, nodding as if I'm fully engaged in the conversation. "What a shame."

His eyes search my face for a moment, as if gauging my level of interest. I turn away, already reaching for the coffee machine. The regular's stories are often a mix of gossip and speculation about a serial killer. There are no serial killers, but they sure do act like one.

As I prepare his coffee, my mind drifts, recalling a different scene entirely – a vivid memory of the night at the club, but I squash those thoughts. It's been a few days since the encounters and I have completely detached myself from whatever the hell almost happened to me.

Besides, if I were to say anything about vampires being real and dangerous and are the reason why people are going missing in town, people won't ever believe me.

I shake my head slightly, as if to dispel the memory. It's a world I've glimpsed, a dark secret that's forever etched into my mind. And yet, as I hand the regular his cup of coffee, his voice pulls me back to reality. "Thanks," he mutters, taking the cup and nodding appreciatively before turning to leave. He pauses then looks at me. "Stay safe."

"Don't worry about me."

I watch him go, my thoughts a tangle of the mundane and the mysterious. As the door closes behind him, the café falls into a momentary lull. My eyes wander to the window, the outside world a stark contrast to the shadows of my thoughts. I rub my temples, my fatigue settling over me like a heavy blanket.