Chimera | H.S Mature

6.

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*Samantha's POV*

I've never understood modern society's obsession with 'Coffee Culture'. It's a bitter tasting liquid that leaves its mark on your breath and renders you smelling of coffee for several hours. I think my initial disliking for the drink originated from school, the distinct memory of coffee smelling teachers leaning far too close, their breath fanning your face as you tried to hold back a grimace while they helped you. Eventually, I stopped asking for help.

I imagined the experience was different in countries like France, where coffee was refined to perfection, brewed to a flawless dark brown colour and served in one of those little cups with the white frothy top manipulated into a small work of art. But in this small café on the streets of London, where the need to satisfy the demanding customers quickly took precedence over the quality of the brew, I was really questioning why I hadn't ordered something else instead.

I threw a subtle glare at the woman sitting next to me, sipping her hot chocolate and licking the cream off her lips, oblivious to my envy of the contents of her steaming cup.

Harry had been quiet for most of the walk to the coffee shop, the 10 minute walk seemed to drag on for hours as we wondered in an awkward silence along the streets, neither of us quite sure what appropriate topics of conversation were. I made a safe guess that the rape of his big sister was quite off limits. A couple of times I had noticed Harry turn his head towards me as if he was about to speak, but just before he opened his mouth he would frown slightly and turn away again. But as we continued to sit in silence at the small table tucked away in the corner of the café, I took it upon myself to strike up a conversation.

"You know, for a café that supposedly specialises in 'authentic French coffee' this tastes disgusting" I said, pulling a disgusted grimace at the cup in front of me and pushing it away. Harry offered me a small, genuine smile.

"I know, I could make a better cup at home" he said, mimicking my actions and pushing the cup away. I smiled at him, causing him to hesitate slightly before he continued to speak.

"Thank you for coming with me, I know it's a bit weird with everything that's going on" he said sweetly and once more I offered him a genuine smile which he returned sheepishly.

"You're welcome," I said, "It's nice to get out of the office for a while, can get a bit stifling in there sometimes" I said, and it was no lie. To be surrounded, day by day, by egotistical men and only being able to find solitude in my box office, an escape to a coffee shop, even if it is a rubbish one at that, was a welcome relief.

"How do you become a detective?" he asked suddenly, his hands clasped in front of him on the table and he tilted his head to the side slightly to examine me.

"Well I'm only a junior detective at the moment, but I've been on the team for about 2 and a half years. I don't really know how I decided to become a detective, I guess it stemmed slightly from watching all those old detective movies with my gran when I was little. I guess I wanted to help people who couldn't help themselves" I said with a small shrug. Harry nodded and smiled slightly. It was the most I had seen him smile since we met, and after the first one, I decided that a smile looked good on him.

"That's kinda cool" he concluded and I giggled.

"What about you, what do you do?" I asked. Immediately he became uncomfortable and shifted in his seat, removing his arms from the table and leaning back.

"Em, nothing. I don't work" he said.

"Like at all? Not even volunteering or something?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No" he stated. I frowned at his sudden shift in mood, a frown which deepened as he ticked his head to the side once again and let out a small, exasperated breath. He closed his eyes briefly and took a couple of deep breaths before looking at me. He offered me a small pitiful smile.

"Harry, are you ok?" I asked.

"Yeah, uh, it's just... it's nothing. Nothing" he finished. I decided not to push him further and when he realised I wasn't going to question him he took the opportunity to quickly change the subject.

"So, does your family live in London too or is it just you?" he asked, steering the conversation away from himself once more and back on to me, but I decided that if he was most comfortable listening to me talk about myself, then I would try to oblige.

For half an hour he listened to me ramble on about my childhood Shere, a small village in Surrey which had nothing going for it other than a couple of cheap hotels and 2 pubs, both of which were not opposed to allowing underage drinkers in if it would boost their profits. I told him about my mother, and my father, about my grandparents and the little school I went to. I told him about how boring it was to be on the outside of the 'in crowd', how lonely summers could be without any friends. I didn't mention Jack.

Throughout my trip down memory lane, Harry listened with intent, he nodded, smiled and frowned at all the right bits, and he didn't pressure me to speak on topics I clearly skipped over. He interjected with several questions and listened to the answers with an interest I never thought possible. He seemed genuinely interested, and his face seemed to relax more and more as I spoke.

As my story came to an end, both of us were startled from the bubble we had created for ourselves by his phone vibrating on the table. Daniella's name flashed up on the screen and he answered it immediately, mouthing a quick 'sorry' to me which I brushed away.

"Hey Dani, what's up?" he asked, his question followed by a moment of silence as he listened to her reply.

"No I just stepped out of the flat for a while to get some air. I didn't want to wake you. I left a note on the side did you not see it?" he said. Again a pause.

"Okay, okay I'll head back now. I'll see you soon," another pause, "bye" he finished before hanging up.

"I'm sorry, I've got to go. Dani was asleep when I left and she totally freaked out when she woke up and found that I'd disappeared" he said, rising from his chair and slipping on his coat.

"No it's ok, at least you got a bit of a break from the flat at least" I said, copying his actions and sliding my arms through the sleeves of my coat.

"Yeah, thanks again" he said. After reminding him again that it was really no problem and adding a quick note about how I had actually had a good time, he smiled, a bright genuine smile which resulted in a deep dimple appearing in his cheek. I tried to not to gaze at it for too long.

"I'll see you later Samantha" he said, before turning on his heel and leaving the shop, the small bell above the door tingling as he disappeared.