Water In My Lungs

Demon

Kelpie?

Estelle thought, fingers sifting over the cool plastic buttons of her phone.

Like the dog?

She typed, sliding closer to the floor where she hid behind the wooden table. The coffee shop wasn't nearly as busy as it had been the day before, slow they had said. She'd felt bad for Alan, who looked less than pleased as rain began to drum down the window panes.

"Not good for business." He had said, retreating to his small storage room in the back, coffee in hand.

Her phone lit up, drawing her attention back to her previous conversation.

A water demon.

She knitted her brows, staring at the screen.

"What do you think you're doing?" A voice sounded from above her. She startled, nearly tossing her phone in attempt to rid herself of any evidence of slacking, but threw it into her pocket instead. She turned, hands up defensively.

"I was just-" Estelle began, voice cracking. She found herself checking her phone at intervals to make sure the man from the day before hadn't returned to Connor as a mass murderer. Estelle had appreciated his help, but was much more wary of the situation than Connor seemed to be. Estelle didn't possess anything close to a natural form of trust with anyone.

The man's throat cleared, jogging her from her thoughts. He stood above her with short blonde hair and lazy blue eyes. He had a smug smile, arms crossed across his chest, standing proudly. She almost rolled her eyes.

"Who are you?" She asked, taking to her feet and rubbing the flour from her pant's leg. She was asking out of irritation and politeness. Estelle had no actual interest in the boy or who he was, but desperately wanted him out of her personal space.

"I'm the owner's son, Naill." His eyes traced her outline as he paced around her, leaning back onto the table and running his hand through his hair. His expression remained arrogant, eying her as if she should swoon at the thought of a coffee shop owner's son. She breathed slowly, trying to calm herself. She wanted to tell him that the mud on his sneakers and leaning over her resting dough wasn't exactly sanitary, but kept quiet.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Estelle." She kept her response curt and crisp, slinking to the seran wrap and yanking off a piece. He followed her. She stifled a groan of annoyance and turned to face him.

"Playing on your cell-phone at work?" Niall shifted forward, smirk playing on his lips. He looked like a little boy with a magnifying lense and a side walk full of burning ants. His mother probably didn't spank him much. "Don't worry, my dad usually listens to me. If I like you, he'll probably like you too." He waved his hand flippantly, grabbing a water bottle that had been perched next to a storage rack. He chugged it, ignoring the water that spilled messily down his chin. "So, let's be friends, yeah?"

Estelle wrung her hands on one of the oven mitts, pretending it was his skinny neck.

She smiled pleasantly, making eye contact. " Oh, about your dad. I worked with him already. In fact, I'm pretty sure your dad wanted to talk to you about your absenteeism yesterday. We could have really used a dishwasher." His smug expression fell, nails digging into his arms. A look of worry graced his features and he stepped back.

"Estelle?" The blonde wrapped her dough quickly, listening for Rory's voice to sound again.

"Yes, Rory?" Estelle tucked the wrapped dough into the freezer with a date and time stamp, removing her apron.

"Could you help me up front, dear? Or are you busy?"

"Actually, I just finished. What's the problem?" She asked, walking in front of the dishelved red head. Her hair was a mess, falling in different directions