I sat down and looked at the unmistakable yellow of America's favorite diner. All the plastic made me feel uncomfortable. Just like the eyes that bore into my back. I tried to ignore them and focus on the menu that I rapidly began to realize only had comfort food. Great. I guess that's what I was looking for anyways. Ace needed it.
I noticed movement out of my peripheral vision and looked up. Red. So much red. My eyes settled on a deep green. And they slid into the booth across from me.
"Hey." The voice almost matched the face, almost didn't. He had a British accent, mixed with a Scottish one, and a relatively deep voice. With that baby face. Round cheeks. Freckles. So many freckles.
"Uh, hey." I glanced down.
"Couldn't help but notice-"
"This is a fucking Dennys, alright? I just want to get some shitty pancakes with an Oreo whatever the fuck, and take my buddy something to help with his hangover," I stated.
He smirked. "Rich coming from a half-demon. Look. I just wanted to give you something." He slid a black card across the table. I glanced at it. "If you EVER need something call the number. It's like making a wish. Promise."
"You're far from any crossroads. You can't be here," I replied.
He smirked and winked. "What if I told you that I can? Listen angel, you're far from home too, are you not?"
"I mean, not really."
YOU ARE READING
The Dumpster
RandomThis is where I'll dump my crap and half-baked ideas. If it's gay I'll put a warning in the title. These may never be returned to ever. There's also swearing.
