Coffee with Wilde

Chapter 1

"I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them." - Sylvia Plath

The next week, Athena found herself back at 'Artisans' cafe, with an indescribable need to be surrounded by creative people; instead of logic lovers. She scanned the room, looking for a spare seat amongst hipsters, and the odd high school student like herself. Pulling down the sleeves of her jersey, she walked inside, making a beeline for the counter.

"Hello, I haven't seen you before. What can I get you?" the cashier asked exuberantly, leaning his head against his hand, his head tilted looking at her.

"I was here last week...one mocha with soy milk thanks. I'm Athena by the way," she said.

"Kwan," he said. "What kind of artist are you?"

"Short story writer, I guess," she said.

"That'll be three-eighty thanks."Athena took her white wallet, made of an old rice bag, out of her backpack and handed over the gold and silver coinage. 

"That's pretty cheap," she said, throwing a twenty cent coin into the tip jar.

"You're all arts students on a budget, Yeomma and Appa get that. Go sit down, I'll bring it over to you," he said as his colleague started up the coffee machine, which whirred and shot up steam, while making her drink.

"Who would you recommend me to sit with?" she asked.

"Go sit with Klade, see if you can cheer him up, or at least see how long it takes until, he swears at you," Kwan said, pointing to the booth up the back where the boy from the week before sat.

Athena smiled, and shifted over to the table in the dimly lit corner. Klade ran a hand through his dishevelled black hair, before fixing up the sleeve of his trench coat, his calve-high leather boots tapping against the wooden floor, in a three by four rhythm.

Nibbling at the end of his pencil, he put it to the page before writing something, in indecipherable handwriting, before dropping it on the table dramatically. His green eyes trailed the pencil, as it rolled off the table and onto the floor and stopping at Athena's leather school shoe.

She bent down to pick it up, worksheets on balancing credit cards falling out of her binder. Picking everything up, a red tinge coming over her pale cheeks, she stood up straight again, twirling the red pencil between her fingers and approached the table.

"I take it this is yours," she said, slamming it against the table.

He nodded, some of his wavy hair flopping into his eyes.

"Can I sit here?" she asked. He looked up his green eyes, meeting her blue ones. She sat down without him responding - on the white chair opposite him - shrugging off her bag. "Has anyone ever told you, you look like Oscar Wilde?"

"Yes they have Sylvia Plath, he's my hero, I wish to emulate him in every way," he said, dryly.

"Including being locked up for being gay?"

"That's what it feels like being gay in an all boys school."

"That...that wasn't the answer I was expecting."

"It's my creative quirk," he said, his lip quirking up on the right side.

Athena nodded before taking a spiral bound, red notebook out of her bag and a blue pen. Putting the pen to paper she seemed to have lost all inspiration, which she previously had in maths class. Staring at the blank white ceiling, she recalled the daydreams of weeks past.

Historical allusion, she thought, a Biblical one would do. Song of Songs, of course!

I have found the one my soul loves, she wrote, the words coming fluidly in poetic ecstasy, staining the page.

Kwan made his way over to the two of them. "Did you get him to talk?" he asked her, depositing the blue mug onto the table.

"A little," Athena said.

"Eh, he'll come around eventually," Kwan said, retying his green apron.

"I love it when people talk about me as if I'm not here," Klade said, hunching over his book.

"We only do it because you sit there and take it," Kwan said, lightly punching his shoulder.

"Don't you have some statistics to do?" Klade asked, sitting back.

"That's an offensive stereotype," Kwan said. "Just because I'm Korean."

"No you're a psychology student who was complaining about stem and leaf plots last week," Klade protested, waving his arms up in the air for effect.

"See how easy it is to rile him up. It provides endless hours of fun," Kwan said, grabbing the tray off the table, before smiling at them and walking back behind the counter after weaving through the tables.

Athena nodded to herself, her hair flipping as she moved her head. "I see."

"You see nothing," Klade muttered.

"What are you writing about?" she asked.

"None of your business," he snapped.

"Oh alright I get it."

He narrowed his eyes at her, his face being marred by frustration, at the infuriating girl in front of him.

Smirking, Athena put pen to paper again. The two of them sat together scrawling. The friendship between Oscar and Sylvia was in awkward fruition.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. These characters are so much fun to write so I hope that comes through. Please tell me what you think. Dedicated to intravenously who has an awesome story Avoidance and has been an awesome supporter here. Thanks for reading