The Fall

The Beginning

CLAIRE POV

It was the perfect spot for people watching. The customers could watch the street like some in between scene in a reality tv show, and the staff could watch the customers.

I absentmindedly scratched the back of my arm. Glaring at the attractive piece of cake being consumed on the table stretching along the front window.

The cake was three layers of decadent chocolate heaven. Which would have been mine if the almost equally delicious looking man had not waltzed in 10 minutes before closing and stolen it.

Well not technically stolen.

This was a cafe, and he did pay...

My stomach gave a disgruntled grumble at the technicality. Technicalities don't taste nearly as good as cake. Especially not triple layer chocolate cream sponge cake.

The sunny working personality I put on with my apron had been serving slice after slice from the wheel of heaven like some goddess of dessert. All the while my secret heart had cursed the souls of the consumers. For the last seven hours, fifty minutes and thirty seconds that cake had been the light at the end of my hospitality tunnel.

Holy hell I had been lusting after that 'Saturday Special' cake for a solid month, fantasizing about how those cream layers would melt on my tongue. The dense sponge waiting to soak those creamy juices up, only to spurt around my mouth in a warm wet round two after biting down... It was like this every Saturday.

Until some customer inevitably waltzed in, and stole the last slice, singing out about their luck whilst unintentionally mocking mine. Last week it was a child who had screamed with a pitch to rival a banshee - setting the glasses on the counter to shaking. The week before it was a meek little princess with thick eyeliner and blue hair, who honestly needed the calories more than I did. This week it was mister tanned-like-a-god, dreamy-amber-eyes and full-pouty-lips. I pursed my lips sardonically, leaned one elbow on the white marble counter and trailed my eyes over the stranger's broad shoulders, at least it was nice to watch him eat it.

This week the last slice had lasted the longest than any other week, which felt like more of a bad thing than good. Hope had filled the hollow place where my stomach should be, now the space was filled with gnawing disappointment. A sigh began at my lips and suffused my toes in an attempt to blow the feeling away.

If I let my emotional equilibrium be defined by the whims of the hospitality industry then I was destined to exist in a state bereft of lasting satisfaction. For every smile from a happy customer, there was a degrading comment from the next. For every cheerful greeting from the boss, there was a comment tailored to pick at your self worth in the most stressful of moments. I would not allow it to touch me, and as such, let the sigh fly free into the ether; expelling the bad and welcoming the possibility of good outside of this establishment.

My expulsion disturbed the thief. He swiveled around in place on the rotating backless chair, fork in his mouth, chocolate crumb tumbling down to the black and white square tiles covered in streaky cracks. My gaze followed the bouncing chocolate crumbs and I fought back a noise of frustration, I had just swept that floor.

My attention woke to the presence of his attention on me, and the frustrated gaze lifted to this miscreant's face. Time slowed. My entire awareness narrowed down to the beat of my heart, the catch of breath in my chest, and his amber eyes pinning my arctic blues in place.

Winter had not quite relinquished its grip on this corner of the world yet, but a hopeful sun was doing its best to break through; escaping through a chink in the bruise colored clouds and bypassing the bare trees lining the street to highlight the thief in that very instant. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, it would have been longer if a gust of frigid air had not swept through the cafe and slammed its entrance shut. A violent shudder from the glass set in the door broke the moment and hit me with concern, if that glass broke under my watch I wouldn't get paid this week.