27

Two

Luke wasn't much of a talker, so while I darted around throughout the evening collecting glasses and serving drinks, he observed quietly from his place at the bar. He lay his head on the sticky countertop, watching me with his piercing blue eyes. The night was dying down, and closing time wasn't far off either.
"Want another?" I asked, pointing to his almost empty coke glass. He sighed heavily, shaking his head and avoiding my eyes.
"Can't," he mumbled. "Can't afford it."
I cocked my head slightly as I peeled the glass from his fingers.
"On the house," I grinned.
He smiled at me as I placed the refilled drink back onto the counter, his dimple reappearing.
"Can I ask you something? " he quizzed, swirling his index finger around the rim of the glass. His gaze met mine as I nodded and continued to dry the many wine glasses and hang them from the roof rack.
"Why're you being so nice to me?"
I bit my lip as I thought about my answer. I thought about lying, saying it was my job and I wasn't a bad person, but what was the point in that?
"I've been in your situation before," I grimaced. "Sad, lonely, depending on booze to make me feel like I had feelings. I can see it in your eyes you know. That despair. I was there too."

Turning around and pretending to reorganise liquor bottles on the shelf I fought back the tears. Repressing those memories was the best way of dealing with them for me, and I didn't want Luke, or anyone else for that matter, knowing the state I used to be in.
Spinning on my heels to face him, he smiled at me. His chin was leaning on his hand, the muscles of his forearm tense.
"I knew you were like me," he murmered. "I could feel it."
He hauled a large duffel bag onto the counter and pulled out a phone charger. "Can I plug this in somewhere?" He asked politely. "I don't know when I'll get to charge my phone again."
I smiled weakly as I took the charger from his clammy hand, plugging it in behind the counter.
"Why can't you charge it at home?" I quizzed. He sighed again, a common occurrence from the young man.
"My mother is apparently 'sick of my shit' so it looks like I'll be sleeping in my car from now on," he grimaced.
"Shit. Is she serious?"
"Very," he groaned. "My car is fuckin tiny and im a giant so it's going to be... interesting."
"Well, I've got a couch," I smiled. "Shifts almost up and I've got food in the fridge. It's hardly The Ritz but at least it's not your car."
Luke smiled up at me as he nodded. He looked vulnerable, broken even, and all I wanted to do was help him. I'd been in his position before. I knew how shitty it was, and after all, one night wouldn't hurt. Right?