indomitus | f. castle

III.

"Not talking makes it easier to keep secrets."

-Scott McCall

III.

I was currently out grocery shopping for dinner tonight. Frank was coming over like planned and I wanted to make sure I made my best. I was planning to make steak, baked potatoes, and my own recipe of creamy avocado and spinach pasta. It was delicious and I use to get compliments on it all the time while living with my brother and he'd have friends over for dinner.

The grocery store was a fifteen minute drive from my apartment so overall it wasn't a bad commute. Plus, I was finished already. I had filled up on groceries for a couple of weeks so I didn't have to come back right away.

As I get back to the apartment I take out the groceries and head up the stairs. Once I enter my place I set the groceries down in my kitchen and start unpacking everything. It was already 4:30 so I had an hour to prepare everything before Frank got here and change into something a bit more presentable.

By the time six rolled around I was dressed in some black jeans and a olive green sweater. Nothing too casual but it wasn't like I was trying the hardest either. Why would I care regardless? Frank was simply my neighbor and although he was insanely attractive I don't think he would be interested. Everything was already cooked to perfection, I had just got the steaks off the pan and my pasta was still hot. It was now passing six but I figured he was just running late, he wouldn't stand me up, would he? I just wanted to have a dinner to thank him.

I gave him some more time when it was just ten minutes late but its almost reaching fifteen till seven yet there's no sign of him.

Once seven rolled around I decided to give up waiting, if he didn't want to come he could've just told me instead of lying saying he would be here. I sigh as I put some food on a plate for myself and ate on my couch while watching episodes of Breaking Bad on Netflix. The food was delicious and I was proud of myself for making a decent meal it just sucks that the person I made it for never showed. And he didn't show, not for a week.

"Was that the last customer?" Tim asks me as I wipe down one of the booths that had been occupied.

"Yeah, I know you usually leave early when Donna's here so you can leave now if you'd like. We have twenty minutes till closing anyways. If someone walks in I'll just see what I can do for them. Who knows, maybe I'll whip something up back there and be a cook?" I tease him and he rolls his eyes at me.

"Can't replace us hun, we're the best damn cooks Hell's kitchen has got to offer." He says pointing at me with the rag in his hand. I roll my eyes this time as I go back behind the counter.

"Yeah, okay. Just go already." I shoo him away with my hand.

"Are you sure you'll be fine? It's not the best neighborhood." He says while coming from the kitchen and walking out from behind the counter. He had his jacket in hand already ready to go. I've heard that line before.

"Yes, Tim, don't worry, go ahead." I wave him off and he nods before saying a goodnight.

I sigh and pour myself a cup of coffee with creamer. I know Donna said I could close early if I needed to or if there was no one here but I kind of liked being here instead of at my apartment. Plus the endless amounts of coffee was not to bad either.

The bell from the door shook me from my thoughts and I look over to my left to see a man, not just any man but the one and only Frank. He comes and sits in front of where I'm standing at the bar and I sigh.