Soul Harbour

0.23|when wandering in kitchens|

0.23|when wandering in kitchens|

"So what did he do?" Sabah asked, with a expectant smile.

Carlotta gave her a look, "Something childish."

Sabah pressed, "C'mon, tell me. What did he do?"

The older woman walked into the kitchen without replying, balancing several plates in one hand and a cloth in the other. Sabah sighed and got down from her stool and ran after her. In the days she had spent with Carlotta, she was perceptive enough to see a pattern in the way Carlotta would narrate what had happened. Carlotta would take ages to finally start, something Sabah had to grovel and beg for. Then, after a few bits and snatches of telling Sabah the story between serving various customers, she would suddenly catch a rhythm and would go on telling her everything without Sabah having to ask for it.

These were the time Sabah loved the most. The times she could close her eyes and loose herself in the story, visualise every detail in technicolour, feel every word against her heart echoed to her mind, stand as if by Carlotta of a time past, beside Auburn and Anthony two people Sabah had never met and yet knew them way more than most people know their friends.

And then Carlotta would stop, as if jibed by something painful, something that hurt to even speak of. Sabah only had to take a look at the cold, sunburnt lines beside Carlotta's lips and know that whatever magic had been weaved into that fabric of reality was lost. But like most writers she was persistent to the point of shamelessness and off she would go after Carlotta, using her instinctive, inherent charm of allowing people a refuge to pour out themselves.

If stories are supposed to be linear, which they are not, Sabah was chasing after something else totally because every day Carlotta would repeat her cycle of refusal, narration and refusal. Unknown to Sabah, their conversations had an effect on Carlotta too. Carlotta wasn't proud of everything in her life. There were things she wished to un-remember, to erase and to let go. No matter how much she lied to herself that talking to Sabah was something she disliked, Carlotta found breathing so much easier each day after talking to the dark-haired girl who was now following her.

"Hey, you know you want to tell me what happened next, right? I mean, Anthony is obviously going to make some sort of romantic gesture. It could possibly be my OTP moment," the earnest voice tinted with warm laughter could make anyone want to converse. Anyone except Carlotta.

Carlotta closed her eyes and within seconds old fears slashed through the darkness behind her lids. People can leave you when you're at your most vulnerable and she didn't want to be that. She didn't want to play this story till the finish because the ending wasn't going to be beautiful and Sabah, who loved beauty to the extent that she looked and found it everywhere, would be repulsed by the truth because this wasn't a fairytale. It was the truth and truth was, at its naked best, repulsive.

Carlotta shouted, "I don't have time for talking, alright? I have a small coffee shop. I don't earn much so I need to work hard and concentrate at my work which is impossible if you keep bothering me."

Sabah looked stunned and, for once, stood speechless. In all these days, Carlotta had snapped a few times but it had been during good natured exchanges, during pretended attempts to drive away Sabah or at children who put sticky posters on window panes but never like this. As a rule, the cafe owner was a sarcastic yet terribly amiable person.

Carlotta stared back, shocked. She couldn't believe that the words had actually escaped from her. Each word barbed with poison. What was happening to her? What had changed during the last few months in which Auburn and Anthony had come here and the last few days in which she had been forced to tackle her actions from those months.

Sabah gulped and walked to Carlotta slowly and hugged her. Carlotta tensed even more surprised at this.

"Its okay," Sabah whispered. "Don't look so shocked. You're tired, I get it. How about I shut up about the story and we clean up this place?"

Carlotta rolled her eyes and patted the girl as they separated. She said, in a brave attempt at joviality, "Finally, the lazy girl says she'll help."

After that the kitchen was silent except for the clatter and chink of plates and cups and fizz of hot water in the sink. Yes, Carlotta loved to talk and hated to say the truth but in that honest silence she found everyone's greatest treasure-comfort, and for that she was grateful. Maybe she would tell her all of it. even the ugly parts. Maybe.

And yes, you're right, Sabah wasn't persistent to the extent of shamelessness. She stopped miles before it, at the mark which people sometimes overstep-humanity and kindness.

[what the actual hell did I just write? does it sound preachy? i hope not. god, i hope not. i hope it sounds lovely like I want it to.

anyway, this story is mah babe so whatevs. 

mood-change what?

vote+comment please, please and you'll get ramennnn. also, i have the absolutely feelz-ful next chapter already written (prepare to drool!) and if this get 30 votes and 30 comments=instant update xx]