Phil's POV
"A large coffee, please," I say after peering up at the brightly decorated chalkboard hanging over the register. " and a cinnamon scone."
I look back to the pair of deep brown eyes. This brown isn't dull or drab. In fact, it's vibrant, sparkling with life, and I can't help but smile at the sight.
Beautiful.
" Three-fifty, please." he says with a lopsided grin, holding a hand out for payment.
I fumble around in my pockets until I find a rectangular piece of plastic. As I hand it over to him, our fingers brush, and an unexpected jolt of electricity shoots through me, making me step back. I can't tell if he felt it too because he just winks and laughs and rings me up. It's nice to see him laugh. His features are much nicer when not marred with a furrowed brow.
Placing a receipt in front of me to sign, he speaks again.
"Thank you... Phil."
I look at him in confusion, wondering how he knows my name, until I notice it printed on the receipt.
"You're welcome..." I look down and notice he's wearing a name tag. "....Dan."
His lopsided smile turns timid, but his eyes remain brilliant and enticing, so I give him a small wave before moving off to the side to allow the next costumer to step up. I can tell he's watching me, even though he appears to be entirely engaged with the next customer. I can feel the heat of his stare on my neck, but everytime I glace over, his eyes are somewhere else, making me wonder if I was just imagining it.
My coffee is ready, and I collect it and find an empty table in the back. My view is distorted from here, and I can no longer see the man at the counter. I take small sip of my coffee and am please to find that it's perfect. I take a bite of my scone and my eyes close reflexively. It tastes of cinnamon, nutmeg, and something else I can't quite place. With each bite, I feel as though I'm that much closer to figuring out what I'm missing, but it slips away at the last moment.
I wash down the crumbs with the rest of my coffee and wander around the cafe. The walls are a deep crimson color and filled with photographs. I walk around, looking at each one carefully. There doesn't seem to be any information on the photographer, which seems odd.
I pause in front of a photograph of a field. Something about it calls to me, and it all looks too familiar. I desperately search my brain, trying to remember if I've ever been there before. Wisps of memories flow through my head, and if I concentrate hard enough I can see a large oak tree. A man in a blue collared shirt faces away from me and I can see his short hair rustle in the breeze. I can see a pair of lips forming words that I can't hear, and as I struggle to make them out the memory seems to dissolve.
Shaking my head slightly, I focus on the picture in front of me. Despite it being devoid of color, it's clear that it was taken on a clear day. Long grass dances in the wind, and a large oak tree looms in the background. A small portion of the bark is peeled away with something carved into it, though it's too far away to make out what it says. I think they're letters.
I shut my eyes, hoping that the fleeting memory returns to me but it doesn't. As much as I try, it remains hidden, lost somewhere deep in my brain. I feel something warm brush past me and someone touches my shoulder. A familiar voices ghosts past my ear
"This one's my favorite."
YOU ARE READING
Forget Me Not - A Phanfiction
Fanfiction*contains brief mentions of self-harm* They say that love has no boundaries but what if one of them can't remember who they love? Phil suffers from memory loss in which he can't remember the previous day or his relationship with the love of his life...
