Real Housewives of Transylvania

Katrina

Katrina

I roll over in bed careful not to wake Rolf who sleeps soundly next to me. My feet pop out first and they carefully search for their slippers. Once found they proceed to carry me to the pathetic kitchenette that our apartment building boasted that came in every apartment. I tie the string on my fluffy pink bathrobe and begin the process that will grant me coffee and energy.

While the coffee brews I shed my night dress and step into the shower. I work the honey scented shampoo into a lather in my thick mane of long brown hair. I squirt some vanilla body wash onto an old rag and wash my body. The cloth glides over my long legs and slides quickly up my flat stomach. I repeat the shampoo process and follow it with a matching conditioner. I shut the water off and let the tub fill. I sit down as the water rises and massage my legs with shave gel. I gently guide the razor over my legs and let the water out. I step out of the shower and towel off, emerging from the bathroom with my damp hair falling freely around my shoulders and my body cocooned in a thick white towel.

I find the coffee ready and pour myself a cup into an old mug. I add some peppermint creamer and lean against the counter while I inhale it.

Rolf stumbles from the bedroom,

"What are you doing up?" He asks. He manages to find his way to the coffee but I swat his hands away.

"It's not morning Rolf!" I giggle pushing him back to our room and a few more hours of sleep. "I'm working the graveyard shift tonight." I help him into bed. I kiss him on the mouth and move to the other side of the room in search of clothes.

I rummage through the drawers and pull out a pair of leather leggings and a flowing red shirt. I shed my towel and change.

I return to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee and then grumble as I enter the bathroom again to do my hair. My long locks reached the small of my back and were so thick as to give every hairdresser in a twenty mile radius nightmares. I attack it with a hair dryer and comb, flipping my head over for added effect. Satisfied that it was dry I proceed to plead with it through flat iron, though never in my life had it ever laid truly flat. I pull it back into a pony tail and tease my bangs into an impressive bump. I let out a long sigh when looking at the finished product, Rolf had been encouraging me to cut it, but he didn't understand the fragile relationship I had with my hair.

Realizing that I had spent far too long in the bathroom I dash out the door, grabbing my car keys and jacket on the way. I tug my jacket on in the hall and take the stairs two at a time down to the parking garage. I jog to my car and force the key into the ignition.

It's a quick drive to the local 24 hour convenience store. It was quite an improvement to our little suburb if historic Transylvania. At the time I was still at school studying to become a writer. But I found the college wasn't for me and dropped out and moved in with my boyfriend of five months, Rolf. He was easy to live with and didn't ask for much. I loved Rolf really, and though it killed me, there were just some things that I couldn't tell him, and he accepted that.

I reached work quickly and barely a minute late. Nevertheless I dashed in and threw my apron on, relieving the day shift from his place behind the coffee bar. Sometimes I was called to man the registers, or even to bag, but generally I resided behind the bar working as a barista.

I wash what remains in the pots down the drain and start fresh pots of coffee. The day shift always leaves the bar in a terrible mess and I wipe chocolate shavings and candy cane crumbs off of the counter.

"Excuse me." A voice purrs. My head snaps up at the voice, anxious to see it's owner. He had a deep, gravelly voice. I am not disappointed in the man's appearance. He appears to be only five or ten years older than I am, with thick black hair and flawless pale skin, but his voice and the way he carried himself made him appear much older, ancient in fact. He was dressed in a black overcoat and black dress pants, so I got no clue of age from his clothing.

I realize that I've been staring at him and scramble to remember what he said.

"Can I help you?" I offer gesturing to the brewing pots. "I just started some so they'll be a few minutes. You can have a seat if you want to wait." I watch him as he sits down at the bar looking totally out of place. I continue tidying up. "What are you doing out so late?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

"I suppose I'm just a night owl." He laughs at a joke that I don't get. I give him a small smile to make up for my confusion. "And you?" He asks.

"I always request nights." I admit. "I like the dark." I pause and then add, "and the quiet." I smile subconsciously this time. He meets my eyes and gives me a smile back, I find myself lost in his dark eyes.

The coffee pot beeps and I'm brought out of the trance.

"Sorry." I laugh and blink away the daydream. "What can I get you?"

"Just black coffee." He orders. I am not surprised by his boring request, his whole presence just seemed to indicate a preference for classics.

I pour the coffee into a styrofoam cup. "Something sweet?" I gesture to the rack of pastries.

"No thank you." He takes the coffee from my hand and his fingers brush mine. I give him another smile,

"You can pay up front."

"Thank you." He says and I watch him as he walks away. I sigh and lean against the counter, completely entranced.