Fatal Infatuation [18+]

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Evelyn hummed a quiet tune to herself as she brought various plates of food, cups of coffee, and refreshments to the few customers that sat at the round tables. She greeted each one of them with a smile, a gesture that was usually returned. 

"Good morning, Evelyn. How are you today?" Micah, one of her regulars asked. Micah was a nice, humble guy, close to her age. He visited the cafe every morning before going off to college, and always tipped Evelyn the most. Her co-workers would always tell her that he likes her, that the reason he showed up every morning was to see her, but she wouldn't listen. She continued to believe that he was just extremely friendly. 

"Micah, It's great to see you! I'm doing fine, just trying to get some work done." She smiled sheepishly, placing the small cup of black coffee in front of him. 

"That's good to hear," He paused, as though deep in thought "Listen, do you want to go out sometime?" He asked, fidgeting with his hands.

Evelyn's eyebrows raised and her smile faltered as she registered his words in her head, replaying them over and over. 

"Like, on a date?" 

"Yes, on a date." He chuckled lightly, examining her face as he waited for her answer. Her stomach twisted and she didn't know what to say. She had never been on a date before, and she had certainly never been asked on one. 

The truth is, she never felt the need for romance. She never experienced it, so she didn't know what it was like, but it was rare that she'd even ponder on it. She considered the possibility that she was conventionally attractive and that it was the reason she garnered unwanted and unprovoked attention from the opposite sex, but she also recognized that the opposite sex would fuck a hole in the wall if you slathered makeup on it. So, she chose not to dwell on the 'What if's' and 'Maybe's' of her love life, and she chose to spectate what other people's love lives looked like. 

She watched the happy couples display their love in public places, with kisses and hand-holding and hugs. She watched the unhappy couples display their disdain for each other with incessant arguing, public melt-downs and break-ups, and she decided that it wasn't worth it. That life was too short to rely on other people's unpredictable strings for happiness. For her, it was far easier to watch other people live their lives than to live her own, which was why she still couldn't decide on an answer to give to Micah. 

She could tell that his patience was wearing thin, so she blurted out a short "Yes," and speedily retracted to the kitchen, clutching the serving tray in her hands so tightly that it turned the tips of her fingers white. As she made it to the kitchen, she dropped the tray in the sink and leaned against the wall, regulating her short, shallow breaths. 

"Eve? What happened?" One of the chefs asked, approaching the girl with a concerned look. 

"I think I have a boyfriend." Evelyn replied, looking up at the taller woman with wide eyes. 

"What?!" The woman shrieked, making the rest of the kitchen staff's heads whip in her direction. "Okay, tell me exactly what happened." 

"You know Micah, right?" Evelyn paused, and the other woman nodded, refering to him as "Lover boy." 

"He asked me on a date, and I said yes!" Evelyn exclaimed, making rapid hand gestures to further demonstrate the gravity of the situation. 

The taller woman paused and snorted, her face twisting in amusement. "That doesn't mean he's your boyfriend," 

Evelyn looked at her expectingly, as if urging her to continue her explanation, and she did. "Typically, you go on a few dates with the person, and then there's a mutual agreement that you're in a relationship." 

"So, what do I do?" Evelyn asked, slumping her shoulders. 

"You get all dolled up, you tell him when and where to pick you up, and then he takes you somewhere romantic." The woman replied, crossing her arms. 

"Quit stalling, Y'all have customers to serve!" Leanna shouted from the other room, clearly listening in on their conversation. The woman chuckled and pushed Evelyn back into the dinette, making Evelyn stumble. 

(Unknown POV)

I sat and watched you stumble around the dining hall like a frightened lamb, sipping the coffee in my cup, the coffee I wish you poured. Unluckily for me, the other waitress tended to my needs, and I could only watch you. I watched that lanky, blond stranger ask you out, and you being completely oblivious to his advances. 

My jaw clenched as I listened to the encounter, and his shrill, grating voice. The way he talked to you wasn't right. You deserve to be taken care of, to be romanced, to be treated with the utmost respect. He was cocky, annoying, smug. You're sweet, modest, humble. You deserve a man who can take care of you. Not him. He's the type of guy who would honk at your door instead of getting out of his car and knocking. If he even owned a car. 

He slid you his number with a disgusting wink, and you took the piece of paper with a hopeful smile. I wanted to go over there and slit his throat. I waited for you to walk off after every customer had left, and I waited for him to get out of his seat. I approached him from the back and whispered in his ear, 

"If you touch her, you're dead." 

Before he could turn his head around to look at me, I was out of the door.