Ava

Day 1

    It was 12:47pm and the scorching rays of sunshine pierced through the tinted windows catching every element of her hair with each strand sparkling a beautiful brown. Her elusive red dress brought a drably light room to life, etching colour into every crevice. The glistening shade of sapphire in Ava's eyes shone as she took a sip through her slightly chewed straw, transferring red lipstick as she did so. Each element of her outfit blended with ease and appeared to cascade effortlessly from her hips to her glass ankles. The distant stench of ground cocoa beans filled the air, but her attentions were far from the ambience of the coffee shop. The ongoing rush of city workers bounding through the tightly packed backstreet caught the eye of Ava. Herds of business men and women on their lunchtime break have their necks bent with their phones obtaining full attention. Ava was different; her eyes were glued to the constant blur of activity that effervesced around her, taking in every scene. The one time I have heard her speak, she spoke with elegance, like she spent hours perfecting words and the way they should sound. Words slivered from her tongue with mesmerising brilliance, often making the men blush with sheer arrogance. There was something unusual about this woman; something perplexingly satisfying about gazing at her natural wonder and peculiar habits.


She would sit for hours in this coffee shop in the evenings, but she rarely gets a break during her shifts as they're often long and gruelling. Ava dresses like a fashion designer, her favourite piece of clothing is her sky blue scarf with delicately sewn small golden birds; it looked expensive but yet Ava strikes me as the type of person who would spend her time creating her own fashion pieces and selling them online. She isn't the type of woman to follow the crowd, she loves diversity, she probably spends her time cutting out her favourite clothing from Vogue magazine and pasting them in a scrapbook. Or maybe she is the type of woman to live lavishly, partying, living out the night as if she were a young teenager. I'm simply an observer, watching from afar, blending into the distant murmur of laughs and conversation. I'm sure she recognises me, but when I expect her to say something she simply stares straight through me. As I watch, my mind envisaging our future together, I seem to forget that she has to leave and return to her torturous shift. I wouldn't say I'm in love with this woman, but she just strikes me as different, in need of exploration. She always orders the same drink from the menu, an Americano with cream, with a generous helping of chocolate sprinkles. Such a serious woman, hardly sharing an emotion, ordering a drink fit for a twelve year old girl. I've been studying human development for many years now; how people react to certain scenarios and the different environments they adopt; Ava is the latest subject in my academic conquest. My past still haunts me, I can't let it happen again, not with her.