Run Away - Bunnies are Flight Animals

Bunny

I knew that we would fight today, I just knew it. My day already had been as bad as it could be up to this point. I had just finished my six hour shift at the pizzeria I was working at every Saturday, when my chef called me back to tell me that there was something wrong with the cash register. My chef was a kind looking woman in her mid thirties with long blonde hair and tattoos all over her arms, she was strict but always in a fair manner, at least I thought so. "Bunny, could you please wait a second before you go", she asked me while still counting the money from the cash register.
   Bunny wasn't my real name, but nearly everybody used to call me so, because it was easier to remember. My mother was from South Korea, she came to England to study here and after meeting my Dad she got pregnant and stayed. Thanks to her I not only grew up thousands of miles away from the rest of my family, but also have got a name that nobody can spell right. Chin-Sun.
   Nervously I started scratching my arms. "Is there something wrong?" I asked and was surprised by myself that I dared to,
She didn't look at me, just some little wrinkles occurred on her forehead as a response to my question.  Some of my co-workers were standing around, doing the dishes or cleaning the tables and I prayed to God that they weren't listening.
   After an endless silence my chef first looked at me, then looked at the money and then looked back at me again. "Ten pounds are missing", she finally said.
I felt devastated and ashamed at the same time. Blood rushed into my cheeks and I needed to force myself to stop scratching my arms. Unable to say a word I gasped for air in a pitiable attempt to speak.     
Long story short, in the end I was obligated to pay the missing ten pounds by myself which was more than they pay me an hour, I literally had to work one hour for free. This thought and the total embarrassment flowing through my veins led to the irreparable crash of my mood.
   The way home wasn't too long. Harry's Pizzeria and Bar how the restaurant was called literally was right in front of our home. Just like the pizzeria the facade of our house was all yellow with white painted window frames and a wooden brown door.   
   To add up the picture of me having a horrible day I also forgot my key, hence I rang the door bell. Kim and Evans, My boyfriend Shaun and I were sharing a flat since four months and usually he was the one who got himself locked out. Sometimes I wouldn't even let him in and mute the bell when he woke me up at three am coming home from some kind of after work party that he called "serious business".
   In total I had to ring four times before his scratchy voice came through the small speaker next to the door. "Who's there?" he mumbled. "It's me", I just said, "Bunny."
   The door opener made a shrill sound and let me in. Somehow I made my way up the stairs, we lived in an apartment on the second floor, my feet were hurting and my mood was still drowning sinking deeper and deeper to the bottom of a depressed swamp.
   When I turned on the light in the stairwell I could see that Shaun was already waiting for me. Irritated from the sudden brightness he clinched his eyes together, his arms were crossed. Casually he leaned against the doorframe wearing nothing but poorly ironed shorts. His hair was dark brown like a wooden coffin and has gotten longer lately. Some strains were falling on his face. He looked tired.
   "Did you forget your key?" he wanted to know before I could even fully make my way up to him. "You always forget yours", I countered, walking straight past him into the apartment. He turned around, his arms were still crossed. "You woke me up", he moaned. "Does that matter?" I didn't even bother to look at him at this point. I rather took off my bag and jacket and put them back in the drawer right next to the door. Then I carelessly took a look on the little round watch on my wrist. "It's like what, eight pm", I added. I didn't feel too bad about waking him up, he did that with me all the time and even for more unreasonable reasons than I had. All he gave me was a grumpy gaze, as a response I rolled with my eyes.
   "I'm on duty the next days", he said as if that would explain everything. A dark expression covered my face and I took another step away from him, pretending that I wanted to go towards the kitchen. "So you won't be home." It wasn't a question. I knew that he won't be home. He never was home when he was "on duty". "Would have been nice to have known that a little earlier", I said while trying to control the upcoming anger inside of me. "I would have left you a note", he argued in an unfortunate attempt to defend himself. Finally he closed the door and walked up to me, trying to lay his arm around my shoulder. "Aren't you going to visit your parents tomorrow anyways?" he asked with a redeeming undertone. "Oh you remember", I hissed at him.
   I escaped his attempted hug, still not looking at him, rather facing the white wall with the black Japanese drawings his brother had given us for Christmas. "Are you being sarcastic?" he wanted to know. "Obviously.", I stated. At this point he probably ran out of ideas of what to respond to my clearly devastating bad mood. So we just remained silent for a while, I started chewing on my lower lip, still staring at the drawings on the wall, asking myself if I should tell him about what just happened at work.
   Before I came to a conclusion, he tried again to touch me, now my hip and this time I let him. "Anyways, if you want, I'll make you dinner", he tried to make the conversation going again. I took a deep breath, rested my head on his chest for a moment and decided to save the spicy part that made me rage in the first place for later. "Thank you, I'm starving." I made sure that my voice was sounding extra nice and soft this time, I didn't want to argue again. "Do you want to choose a movie that we can watch later?" he suggested and gave me a quick kiss on the lips before going into the kitchen. "We haven't finished the last one yet though", I reminded him. I couldn't see his face, but just from the tone of his voice I could hear that he was grimacing. "Cause it's boring as hell Babe." "Well, I kinda liked it", I said.
   Apparently, he stopped listening to me, because the only further answer I got was a superficial "Sure." Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to follow him into the kitchen where he was already dragging plates and a chopping board out of the cupboard.
   Our kitchen was all in white with a grey flecked stone floor. On a small windowsill I tried to grew some greens, but I have to admit that I have probably overwatered them and they're all half dead and drowned by now. "So, how was your day?" I asked because I didn't like the silence too much. "Good." He was busy with filling some water into a pot. Carefully I stepped aside to avoid being in his way. Then he looked at me and half of a smile rushed over his lips. "Nothing special happened and yours?" An oppressive feeling overcame me as soon as he had finished his sentence. I still wasn't quite sure whether I should tell him of the ten pounds or not. It wasn't that big of a deal after all, was it? I have to admit that I felt quite embarrassed by the thought of telling him, he probably wouldn't even be mad, I mean why should he be mad? He had no reason. We were still paying separately for nearly everything. It was about my money and not his. He had no reason to even care. Then there's also no reason to tell him, a voice in my head quietly whispered, convincing me to keep my mouth shut and just try to forget the unhappy incident that happened today.
   "Work was stressing as always", was all I would say on this matter. He raised one eyebrow and started chopping a bunch of tomatoes. "If you dislike work so much, why don't you get a different job already?" He was right, this wasn't the first time that I complained about my job, but I shook my head anyway. My hair was tied together to a pony tail that slowly but steady fell apart, because my hair was too short. "I honestly doubt that I would be much happier with another job", I tried to explain myself, but I guess I didn't even need to, because Shaun's facial expression clearly said that he literally didn't care. I was right. "If you say so", was the only thing he had to say to this. "The costumers were pretty rude today, you know." I could feel how the anger about what happened was boiling deep inside of me and I tried to let it out somehow, without telling what actually happened.
   "A lot of tourists?" he assumed. Tourists can be rude too, but usually the problem with them was more likely that their English was so flawed or the accent was so heavy that it was nearly impossible for me to get their orders right.
   "Not exactly", I replied after a short pause, strongly contemplating my choice of words, "It was just the general manner I guess." While I spoke I kept looking at his hands that where chopping one tomato after another in a steady rhythm, somehow it helped me to calm down, hence I tried just to focus on what he was doing. "Are you going to bring food tomorrow?" he wanted to know. It was a casual question, but I already knew what he was referring to and even though I recognized it, I didn't show him that I was actually hurt that he would leave the next day again. "Sure, when I see my Mum", I answered and tried to sound as cheerful as I could.
   My Eomeoni how I called my Mum, which was the Korean word for mother, was a mathematics' professor at a university in Oxford but then somehow decided that this was too boring and instead opened up a Korean restaurant in the George Street, close to the bus station. Ever since she made sure that we won't starve due to my lack of cooking skills and Shaun's lack of time to always prepare dinner. In fact, Shaun's working hours were a nightmare on their own, sometimes he'd come home sometime around three am, always waking me up, sometimes he'd stay away for days, not coming home at all. At first I thought that he was a drug dealer or cheating on me, but our bills got paid and he gave me a silver necklace for Valentine's Day. The time we started going out, he was working for an undertaker and didn't earn much more than I do now with my waitress job. Actually this was how we met, at a funeral.