Hot Coffee, Cold Hands

Chapter 2 ♡

"Nothing worth having comes easy."

This isn't exactly like I imagined The Hideout^^^, but it's close enough!x

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I swung open the door of The Hideout, letting the warm air and aroma of fresh caffeine hit me square in the face. Breathing a sigh of relief, I saw that it wasn't overly busy. Perfect.

On the walk over to the coffee shop, I had been overcome with anger over the cheek of my parents. I was pretty certain that I'd caught the attention of a few passersby, what with my heavy stomping and blazing glare.

How could they treat me that way? Like I was just another way of getting another wad of cash for their bank accounts? I was their daughter, for Christs sake. Why would they want to control who I was friends with and even who I dated?

I knew they weren't the kind of people that would win a 'Parents of the Year' award, but it actually kind of hurt. Sure, I knew that I didn't have the best relationship with them, but I never had any idea that I meant so little to them. That they would use me and control my love life for their own benefit.

Trying to shake all thoughts about my parents from my head as it was just bringing me down even more, I walked up to the counter and waited in the line of about three people. I didn't have to ponder over my order, as I tended to have exactly the same drink each time.

"Latte with caramel syrup, please." I said to the cashier, fishing out some coins from my purse. Soon enough, the steaming cup was placed in front of me, and I instantly relaxed. Caramel syrup is my baby, after all.

After paying, I went over and sat down at my usual table. It was in the corner, slightly separated from the rest of the shop. There were two plush seats, the one I always sat in and another that my bag occupied. The small table was round, with a candle or two on. It was stained with old coffee, and the armchair cushion was sagging slightly, but to me, it was perfect.

I enjoyed being there most because it was such a dramatic change of scenery from the spick-and-span, huge house that I lived in. The Hideout was cosy, with strings of fairy lights drooping down from the high ceiling, and the constant buzz of chatter surprisingly made me feel happy, even though I always preferred to sit alone.

Here, I could be by myself and forget my woes, my worries, my troubles. I could just sip my coffee and let the sickly sweet drink overthrow the sour parts of my life, and the patchy relationship I had with my parents. I could open my book and immerse myself in a different world.

So due to my foul mood, that's exactly what I did.

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UNKNOWN POV

She was here again. It was a relief-she hadn't come by the coffee shop in a couple of days, and I had stupidly begun to miss her presence.

My heart jumped into my throat when I heard the bell on the door go, looking up and seeing her there, hair tousled from the breeze, cheeks tinted pink. Today she seemed as if she was upset and angry, but the expression was gone as soon as she walked through the door of the cafe, and like always, I began to think that I had imagined it.

I half watched as she stood in line, and I could have literally mimicked the exact thing that she said when she got to the front of the queue. I'd learnt that she always got the same drink.

'Latte with caramel syrup, please' she'd say.

I saw as she sat down at her table- yeah, I saw it as her table- and got out her book. It was always like this-she got her drink, sat as her table, and just read. Over the countless amount of times she had come to The Hideout, I had picked up on her love for reading.