Predators Eye

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

I hummed softly to the tune of Silent Night, moving quietly about the wooden floors of the restaurant. Although it was only mid-November, it was never to early for Christmas music in my opinion. The chairs had already been picked up and stacked either on the tables or in the corner, the mahogany planks were clean and spotless. Silence blanketed the area, only my distant voice could be heard from the bar area while I rubbed at a particularly stubborn spot on the counter.

The door creaked opened, and odd sound for this time of night. I glanced up, my hand wrapped around the neck of a whiskey bottle as I prepared myself to fend off an attacker. But as soon as the mysterious figure stepped into the light of the wall lamps, I loosened my hold.

"Zayn?" I asked, astounded. Usually he said his goodnight and retreated to his room before closing time. But today, he stumbled over to the counter, a large hand scrubbed tiredly over his face.

"Hey. What time is it?" he mumbled, exhaustion strung his words together.

I glanced at the large digital wall clock. "11:45."

Zayn sighed, his face rested in his palm. "Christ, I didn't realize how late it was."

"You alright?" I inquired with concern. Normally he had a smile on his face, but now the grin was replaced with a frown.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Long day, I guess."

I gazed curiously at him, my lips pressed together to form a thin line. The towel that lay beside me was discarded into the bin as I continued with closing up. Since Zayn wasn't going to tell me what had him all wrung out, I opted to keep silent and carry on with my work instead of pestering him. Nobody likes a nosy person anyways.

"Never in my life," Zayn began, "did I think weddings would be so stressful."

I laughed softly, polishing some whiskey glasses. "Welcome to my world."

"How do you do it?" He asked in awe. "I could barely survive a wedding dress fitting and flower appointments today, how do you survive full weddings?"

"Depends on the person," I shrugged. "Some of us can handle it, others can't. I liked challenges and problem solving. Weddings provide both, so it works well for me."

"I can handle stress." Zayn assured her, using the sleeve of his jacket to rub his forehead. "I just can't deal with this kind of stress."

I laughed, shaking my head slightly. It was true, the anxiety that comes with planning a wedding is a whole new breed than your normal, day to day activities. "Not a lot of people can. Very few people can actually handle the stress. You're just scratching the tip of a very massive problem."

"And I have no desire to scratch any deeper," Zayn grumbled. His pouting face reminded me of a lost puppy, which pulled a quiet giggle from my lips. He raised an eyebrow, only to recieve an embarassed flush and an averted stare.

"I'm sorry you're going through all this trouble," I told him sincerely. Zayn shrugged, tapping his fingers against the wood. Silence fell around us as I replaced some of our liquor bottles for new ones. I could feel Zayns eyes on me, but I chose to ignore him until he spoke. I had nothing to say and I certainly wasn't going to make a fool of myself.

My thoughts raced back to four days ago. That had been the first time I had really spoken to a customer, and it felt strangely fullfilling. Even Jakob had congratulated me afterward, claiming I had finally pushed them over an obstacle that had been hurting them for a while. It felt good to actually speak without sheer need or politeness. I voiced my opinion for once, and it worked out perfectly.