Nameless // h.s. au

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

*Hunter*

My coffee is too bitter. There was this new little café but now my coffee is too bitter as I sip on it. It's black coffee. I'm not really a black coffee person but I thought it would help this morning. But all it has given me is a bitter taste in my mouth and a burned tongue.

The subway is fairly empty for a Monday morning. The only human beings here along with myself are two college students comparing notes, a man in a messy suit with stains on his tie who is leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, and a woman with a young girl sleeping in her lap.

The young girl looks no older than seven. They look like their party of the scratchy sweater sets, at least that's what mom used to call the "all-natural" type. Who only shop at whole foods and wear none other than scratchy sweater sets in earthy tones. You don't usually see many people like that in the city, back home there were many.

They look unhappy. The little girl with the pinched brow and the brown sweater dress is sleeping with a distressed expression and the green sweater set mother with the messy pulled back hair looks utterly worn out as she strokes the girl's hair.

"No da-," The girl wakes with a start, gasping and squirming on the seat.

"Shhh bunny it'll be okay, go back to sleep." Her mother coos leaning down to kiss her forehead.

The girl nods and tries to close her eyes again, the woman sighs deeply and continues to stroke the little girl's hair.

I look away and give her peace, hoping that whatever that little girl was dreaming about will one day fade and she'll be able to sleep. Hoping that they'll be able to be happy, unlike I was with my mother. I just hope they'll be okay.

My coffee is too bitter and even still I sip on it and burn my tongue all over again as I try to drown out the taste of hopes I have for them that I could never express aloud.

The obnoxious lady's voice buzzes through the speakers informing me that my stop is next and not a moment too soon because as soon as I see a tear slip down the green sweater set mother with the messy pulled back hair's cheek- I want to run and hide at phantom reminders of the months following my departure from my mother.

I collect my bag and try to take deep breaths as I step onto the platform at inhale the horrific smell of the subway in July.

I should call my mom. I should apologize. I-

No. Can't do that. She hasn't changed. Nothing has changed. I can't go running home just because I'm reminded of what it used to be. Nope. Niete. Nein. No.

I shake away my etcha-sketch brain before stuffing all my emotions back down my throat and continuing down the street with my- by now- cool enough to drink bitter black coffee and a heart that won't stop beating no matter how many times I've asked it to.

*****

"You turned him down?" The platinum blonde's voice raises a couple octaves as I groan and lean against the counter.

"Yeah I did. I'm not a whore." I counter, "I don't sleep with the boss."

"Hey! It doesn't make you a whore it makes you a slut." She sticks her nose up, "There's a difference."

"You're insane."

"I'll never deny that one. But seriously why? Here it's no strings attached and I'll bet you it would be one of the best hook ups of your life."

"I can't do no strings attached." I sigh, "Never ends well- I'm too damaged for that anymore."

"Damaged usually comes with fear of relationships not good fucks."