Out of This World Gaming [~ read description]

Chapter 42: Coffee Break

Larkspur approached the sporty hatchback and went inside; she insert the key into the ignition and backed out of the driveway with thoughts clouding her mind. 

This is my fault. She got captured by this world's law enforcement all because I didn't listen to her.

They probably took her Identity Choker from her, rendering her powerless. All because of me. 

The guilt kept gnawing at every fiber of her being like a moth that worked tirelessly to undo every thread in a tightly knit sweater. It kept biting, and biting; those thoughts she worked to keep down used to be a small ache in her head, but now it was a tight knot in her gut. 

She drove a few miles into downtown Arcadia and found a large coffee shop on one of the blocks to park in front of. Perhaps taking some time to think about a rescue plan and have some time to herself would take some of the edge off of the guilt. 

She stepped out with the key in hand and placed it in one of her blazer's pockets as she looked up to analyze the skyscrapers that surrounded her. The tall buildings barely scraped the clouds and their sheer height only made her slightly disoriented. 

She had looked at the buildings for so long that she nearly forgot the ground had existed beneath her feet, so getting her eyes back to her perspective proved disorienting. Despite doing everything she could to keep her balance, Larkspur fell into the coffee shop when pushed she opened one of its black framed, glass doors with her collapsing weight.  

The building might've been large, but the room inside was smaller; it had a tiled floor colored in dark brown, whose shiny surface reflected every object and patron in the room, bathing it in a sienna tinge. Small, yet spacious booths whose seats were cushioned with fresh leather had been lined up by the walls with their own large windows to the outside. 

Small lamps hung from the ceiling above the tables, giving each small space, along with patrons and their food, a good lathering of amber and golden hues depending on what light bulbs were used in each lampshade. Humans of various appearances sat at these tables and the counter in front of the barista that delicately caressed mocha glasses and an array of dishes with a soft cloth. 

In front of these patrons were a variety of different foods that ranged from caffeine infused milkshakes drank primarily through straws to warm, sausage and egg biscuits that lent the air its rich and invigorating aroma. From hot coffee drank out of styrofoam cups to the sugary treats like cookies and muffins to put an extra oomph in anyone's energy reserves. 

Behind the counter was a young man; this young man used the back of his hand to wipe away sweat that soaked his forehead and his short, copper red locks in a wet, salty rage. Larkspur approached the young man as he looked up at her. His eyes widened suddenly and out of nowhere, but his expression faltered and disappeared as quickly as it was summoned. He cleared his throat and began to speak. 

"My, I heard that they were a part of society, but I didn't think I'd find one in my coffee shop." His voice inquired with deep intrigue. He sounded quite young and each word was a gentle touch on her ears, which was a stark contrast to the harsh words she had received and given herself. No, she deserved those words, every last one. 

I'm so sorry, Zerrin. 

She sniffled quietly under the scrutiny of her own thoughts. She knew she deserved to be scorned for her failure to be a good friend, but a part of her was also doing her best to defend itself from the part of her that did the scorning. 

"Miss?" the barista spoke again. This broke her trance as she remembered what he just said. Perhaps dwelling on her internal conflict for too long would be counterproductive in her search and rescue.