Outside Work We... •[TNN One-shots]•

Devour The Unborn •|| REECE + KID OLIVE ||•

Prompt: Reece takes Olive to a cafe for breakfast.

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the bustling café, casting a golden glow on the tables. Reece Knight pushed open the door, holding little Olive’s hand. She was five years old, her black hair slightly messy from sleep, and her small blue eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and mischief.

“Alright, Olive,” Reece said as he scanned the room for an empty table. “Let’s grab some breakfast, yeah?”

She nodded solemnly, her tiny fingers gripping his hand like she was preparing for a great mission. The line moved quickly, and soon, they were standing before the barista. The woman greeted them with a cheerful smile, pen poised over her notepad.

“What can I get for you two today?” she asked.

Before Reece could answer, Olive stepped forward, tugging her hand free of his. She tilted her head back dramatically, as if she were summoning some ancient power, and declared, in a voice that echoed across the café:

“I WISH TO DEVOUR THE UNBORN.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Plates clattered to tables, conversations halted mid-laugh, and someone dropped their coffee with a splatter. All eyes turned to the tiny girl who stood there, her chest puffed out with pride, her gaze unwavering.

Reece froze, the words hitting him like a freight train. “What—”

“The unborn!” Olive repeated, louder this time, as though the first proclamation hadn’t been clear enough. A woman in the corner gasped audibly.

Reece’s face turned a deep shade of crimson as he crouched down to Olive’s level, his voice a frantic whisper. “Olive, what are you doing? What does that even mean?”

She turned to him, completely unfazed, and said with utter seriousness, “I want eggs, Daddy.”

The realization hit him like a brick, but it was too late. The damage was done. A man near the counter choked on his coffee, and the barista stood frozen, her pen hovering midair, her expression a mix of horror and confusion.

“Eggs,” Reece sputtered, waving his hands wildly as if he could erase the last ten seconds. “She means eggs! Sunny side up, scrambled—any style, just eggs, please! Not... not whatever that sounded like.”

The barista blinked, then nodded stiffly, jotting down the order with trembling hands. “Eggs... sure... coming right up.”

Reece stood, gripping Olive’s hand as he guided her to a table. He could feel every pair of eyes in the café following them, the weight of their judgment palpable. Olive, however, seemed entirely unbothered, swinging her legs happily as she climbed into her chair.

“Olive,” Reece began, his voice low and urgent, “where on earth did you hear something like that?”

She shrugged, completely indifferent to the chaos she’d unleashed. “I heard it on tellie. Sounded cool.”

“Cool?!” Reece hissed, running a hand through his hair. “Olive, you can’t just—” He gestured helplessly toward the counter, where the barista was now recounting the story to her coworkers, who were all laughing behind their hands. “You can’t say things like that in public! People will think we’re... I don’t even know what they’ll think!”

She blinked up at him with her big blue eyes, her expression innocent. “But you always say be confident, Daddy.”

Reece groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Not this confident!”

Olive tilted her head, as though considering his words, before giving a small nod. “Okay. Next time, I just say I want eggs.”

Reece closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, already dreading the next breakfast outing. But as he looked across the table at his daughter, her face now lit up with pure joy as she sipped her juice, he couldn’t help but smile. She might be dramatic, but she was his dramatic little girl—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

From behind the counter, someone muttered, “The unborn… what a way to start the day.”