Sunflowers, Bees and Honey

II

From then on it became a routine.

The next night, she was deemed unfortunate enough to be faced with the same lack of shame and hygiene pair causing her to rush to the counter and sit two stools from book boy once more.

And the next.

And the one after.

She never had the energy to pull up her bravado and kick them out, too drained every time. A fact that she did not want to dwell on for long.

Till she stopped bothering to check her table and simply made her way to the counter the second she stepped in.

Weeks have passed without a word exchanged between them. Clementine might have never learned his name if she had not (accidentally, she assures you) heard Dor address him by 'James'.

What an old fashioned name.

Suits his grandpa-like personality.

In the course of those weeks, they seemed to have come to a 'truce' despite their ever so clear disapproval of what the other chose to eat. He sits on his stool and reads his novel of the week (ok, she did not notice how it takes him a week to finish each), and she sits two stools over and writes her soul bare with their food spread out between them, instead of taking up the whole counter. Dor took the whole, barely-existent barter with an odd smile and tried sliding their plates closer for some reason. They both ignored whatever she was hinting  at, contenting themselves with sticking to their corners and respecting each other's space.

However, a night arrived in which her worst nightmare came back to haunt her.

The porn-stars duo.

To say that that day was already a terrible one would be very much an understatement. Not only did she score another C on her chemistry test, but she also screwed up her art and violin classes; in addition to landing a fight with a pushy friend of hers. She certainly did not need the cherry on top, that was to come later with French accented lectures from her momma about how she was slipping when the contests were right around the corner.

Suffice to say, entering in angry stomps only to find madame and monsieur PDA cosily occupying the two sacred stools between her and book boy while forcing everyone out of the diner out of discomfort, was were she decided she drew the line. Clementine no longer cared about how fatigued she was. Enough was enough.

Slamming her notebooks on the too dreamy designed marble, she put her hands on her hips and turned towards them with all the sass she was born with (which, if she's honest, was plenty).

They did not seem to notice her presence. Not even book boy stirred.

Ok, now she was fuming.

With a fake all too sweet smile that would've successfully beaten her daily snacks, she loudly exclaimed, "Um excuse me! Not to bother you or anything, but, well as you can see, I'm a writer and I have a lot of words and phrases up my sleeves, making me rather hate using cliche overused ones. However, I'm forced to say, for the lack of better terms, can you please, kindly, get a bleeding room."

His tongue was slowly making its way up her throat.

"Ok guys seriously, you're kicking out all the costumers and taking advantage of Dorothy not being able to tell you off due to some stupid nonsensical costumer rights rule. Please, get the hell out."

Not a twitch to show that they were listening.
Clementine shoved the half-naked, lust ridden girl out of her chair.

The whole diner seemed to freeze and slowly turn to stare at her and the couple whose attention she at last got.

(Book boy was still reading though.)

The two slowly gave her a once over before the male spat out, "why don't you mind your own fucking business, Jane Rustin'."

"It's Jane Austin, junkie, and I can't when you literally made your private affairs every human in this diner's business. Go to like a bar or a strip club, mate. This place is too pretty and innocent for your sex stenches."

"Ok, listen up sweetheart. Just because your 5 year old diet disables you from making your skinny body a well shaped one that you can't get some doesn't mean tha-"

"And that, is enough."

It wasn't Clementine who spoke.

All eyes were now on book boy.

Whose book was sitting closed on the counter with his full body turned towards them in a casual manner, betrayed by the embers of anger shimmering behind what were definitely green eyes.

"Oh great. So the boyfriend finally speaks. Listen buddy if y'all want some advice on getting it to the next step then you can start by sitting next to each other first, then holding hands instead of the whole brooding at each other from a distance catholic shit. No need to be so jealous of us-"

"Shut. Up. What part of 'kindly leave' do you obtuse assholes not understand? Or are you both just self-centered and inconsiderate? Well I'm no writer so I'll spell it out in simpler, less fancy words," book boy took a wheezing breath before saying, "get the fuck out and find somewhere else to fuck."

The restaurant was silent for a very very long time.

And then-"come on Bob, I can't cum with all these prudes lecturing us like we're in some church."

They both finally left with parting dirty looks.