I sighed as another costumer slipped inside my small restaurant. I've been feeling like shit ever since my mom passed away five days ago.
'Don't worry, Seokjin. Your brother will still help you tend the restaurant, okay?' That was what mom said as she lied on the hospital bed.
Tch. Help my ass when all that bastard's been doing was sucking up some weed and asking money from me every twelve hours.
Another bunch of costumers entered and I couldn't help but think they looked familiar. It turns out, they were mom's friends.
I recognized the one on the right, who was a middle-aged woman and was a close friend of mom.
But the one on the left, who seemed to have the same age as me, was the one I didn't recognize.
I couldn't help but shoot my attention towards her as she hid behind the woman.
"Seokjin-ah, I'm really sorry about your mother. I know it must be hard on you, since you're all on your own here in this small shop of yours." She patted my broad shoulders.
I gave out a small smile, "Don't worry, I can manage this on my own,"
No, I can't.
She sighed, "But I know it will be hard, so I brought my daughter here to help you. She's quite different from the others, but she's a good girl. Right, (y/n)?"
The shy girl slowly nodded behind her mother and I couldn't help but smile.
She sure is different.
"No, (y/n)! That's supposed to be served to her!" "(Y/n) that's the wrong price you charged at them!" "No, no, no!"
After two days, I realized that she wasn't up for the job.
"Um, excuse me, but I think that this wasn't what I ordered." A girl in a high school uniform pointed to her receipt, showing what she was suppose to have.
I felt my blood boil a little.
After closing down the restaurant, I called (y/n) to the small office where employees would usually stay while on break or after work.
"How many times do I have to tell you to pay attention to what they're ordering?! This is the hundredth time someone walked to me in the counter to tell me there's something wrong with their fucking receipt!"
I slammed my hand on the desk, making her flinch. I breathed heavily due to the length of words I added to my rant.
Then something happened which I've never expected - she cried. Tears continued to flow down her pinkish cheeks, and I couldn't help but let my anger subside.
My enraged being faltered and eventually changed into a soft one.
"(Y/n), I-I'm sorry.... I didn't mean to yell." I slowly walked to her as she continued to choke on her sobs.
I pulled her in for a hug and she accepted it willingly. I soothed her back as she wimpered under my arms. "I'm sorry, really. I won't hurt you ever again."
"I promise."
She pulled away and grabbed the small notepad from her pocket and there came a pen, too.
If you're thinking what I'm thinking, then yes. (Y/n) is mute. She tries her best to help me out, but she couldn't contribute much service since she couldn't really talk and ask about stuff.
Writing would only test one's patience, so all she could do is listen properly, which also quite hard due to the number of costumers we have everyday.
