Café Anomalies

A Little Closer

Second chapter. And.. that's all I have to say. 

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Ziven \z(i)-ven\ 

noun : Hebrew

1.   radiance, brilliance or light of God

2.   Name of the second month in the Jewish calendar that celebrates Israel's Independence.

Today was a Sunday. That meant no work for Ziven. So he decided to go to the library. It was still relatively early in the morning. Drowsy early workers passed through the street, idle pedestrians a rare sight at 9am.

Ziven entered the Victorian-styled library and passed through the large double doors. He passed the large oak bookshelves and reached a dimly lit corner. He was mildly surprised to find Erik reading a book at the empty table. For a moment, Ziven was tempted to walk away- pretend as if Erik wasn’t there at all. Like he’d thought before: he didn’t want to open that Pandora box. However, Ziven unwillingly found himself walking towards the quiet male.

“ ‘Into the Wild’,” he heard himself say, “That’s a good book.”

Erik’s head shot up in surprise, his hazel eyes wide.

“Your book,” Ziven nodded at the thin book in Erik’s hands.

Erik opened and closed his mouth before ducking his head. The messy strands of hair bobbed up and down, showing the male’s agreement.  

Well that was a start. Without asking, Ziven took a seat in front of Erik. The auburn-haired male swiftly stole a glance at Ziven before growing rattled and looked back down at his book.

Ziven raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have a book with him, either. So, he decided to take the opportunity in front of him and rested his chin against the palm of his hand as his eyes observed the male who was steadily growing more and more flustered.

Erik finally spoke first, breaking the tense silence, “..W-What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Ziven replied, “I’m Ziven.”

“Erik,” came the other’s quiet reply seconds later.

I know. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but he held it back. Instead, he asked, “Do you always come here this early in the morning?”

Ziven watched as Erik pursed his lips in thought. Finally he replied- or rather, retorted, “Do you?”

So he could stand up for himself.

The corners of Ziven’s lips turned upwards into a light smile. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. “How old are you?”

“18.”

“You’re pretty young,” Ziven stated, “Do you go to school?” He knew that the nearest college was at least a two hour drive from the town.

Erik shook his head.

College kid.

The café owner wondered how Erik got to the college. The nearest bus stop was situated in the next town over- an hour away by car. He didn’t know if Erik owned a car, but he didn’t bother to ask, either. “Come by my shop sometime,” Ziven offered as he stood. Erik didn’t reply but Ziven still waved goodbye, “See you later.”

The next day, Erik came to his shop.

This time, he sat a little closer to the bar. There wasn’t much of a difference. He still tried to hide himself against the wall but Ziven noticed. He saw the way Erik debated sitting at the corner table or the table beside it, slightly closer to the bar. Ziven approached Erik’s table and said, “You came back.”

Erik looked up at Ziven, his cheeks flushed a pale shade of pink. “Yeah.”

“Mocha latte, today?”

Erik quickly nodded his head, light brown hair waving up and down.

“Okay. It’ll be ready in a few.”

This time, Erik answered, “..Okay.”

For the following week and the week after that, Erik visited everyday. Slowly, he began to talk more. Ziven noticed Erik growing accustomed to Ziven’s presence and didn’t grow as flustered. Then one day, he didn’t come.

Ziven didn’t like the odd feeling gnawing at his chest when the shop’s closing time came to a close and Erik still hadn't shown up. Was he sick? No, he couldn't be. He looked as healthy as any other average human in Glenn Farrell. Was he in the hopsital? No. The rumours amongst the townsfolk would have been an uproar. Then, what was it? Ziven didn't know. 

Sighing, Ziven placed the dirty dishes back down into the sink and wiped his hands on a towel. He was going to see Erik. Not because he wanted to but because he wanted to ease this nagging feeling. 

Finding Erik's address was an easy task. Everybody in town seemed to know him and yet, at the same time, know nothing about him at all. Ziven had called Rose, knowing she was the queen of gossip. 

"What for?" Rose had asked persistently. 

"Just going to check up on him," he'd replied honestly. 

"Really?"

"Yes."

So, here he was, standing in front a quaint little yellow-brick house. Did Erik like gardening? The plants surrounding the house were nicely tended and blooming quite beautifully. Large bushes of red azaeleas adorned much of the exterior decor along with vines of red roses climbing up the house's bricks. It was hard to tell when only a single porch light was fixed onto the house, warding off merely a miniscule size of the darkness, but Ziven figured the house was quite old from the wear on the hinges of the wooden door. 

Ziven knocked once. 

Minutes later, the door slowly cracked open. "....Y-Yes?"

"It's me, Ziven."

The door swung open with surprising speed, revealing a dishelved brunette. His large hazel eyes were rimmed by red and slightly swollen. Under the dim light, Ziven caught a quick glance at tear-stained cheeks before Erik ducked his head. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked quietly. 

"No reason," he stated. Ziven looked around and then back at Erik. The gnawing feeling in his chest had disappeared.

"Sorry to bother you. I'm leaving." Ziven turned and began to make his way back. He didn't want to ask about the tears or what happened. He was already satisfied with just checking up on Erik. There was no need to delve any further.