Claimed

~Chapter 2~ Observations

~Chapter 2~ Observations 

"Here's your mocha latte ma'am."  The friendly waiter handed Wynter her order and gave her a smile, which she returned with a small one of her own.  She wondered, briefly, if his smile had meant something more, and was unsure of how to be able to tell.  She settled with distantly watching him for a while, wondering if he would give her attention again.  But, alas, a beautiful girl with flowing hair entered the shop.  Wynter watched as the unknown girl walked to the counter confidently and leaned over to kiss the boy that had given Wynter her coffee.  

Wynter tried to think indifferently about the happy couple that smiled and laughed and yet she couldn't help but feel a little isolated.  Turning her head, she focused her attention outside at the many shops in town and the people passing by.  Some were window shopping, some seemed to be walking around aimlessly, and still others were admiring the colorful Christmas lights.  Peace pervaded in the town square.  After taking a sip of her latte, Wynter was drawn back to the window.  As she looked closer at the fountain in the center of the square, she saw a figure sitting alone.

It was a man, she could tell.  His lonely figure was what most attracted Wynter's gaze.  As she stared at him, she kept waiting for his girlfriend or lover to join him, just like the waiters' had.  Or perhaps even a few of his friends wanting to hang in the bar nearby.  Yet, as the minutes ticked by, the man still sat there in solitude.  He didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular.  On the contrary, it seemed as though he had completely checked out.

There was something about him that made Wynter want to go to him.  She wasn't sure why, but Wynter felt as though, if she was insane enough to meet up with the stranger, he would embrace her and smile.  They would be happy together, just like all the other couples.  Wynter's grasp on her coffee cup tightened as she pondered doing the unthinkable: she was going to go meet the stranger.  It bothered her too much that someone who seemed so alone, should, in fact, be alone.

Slowly, she stood, her gaze never leaving the man.  That's when the man's head popped up and he appeared to be making direct eye contact with Wynter.  She thought it impossible that he could be staring specifically at her.  After all, there were dozens of other people in the shop and outside.  It was very unlikely that he would single her out, like she had already singled him.  Did he feel her watching him?

Though her mouth was open, Wynter slowly swallowed, unable to move out of the coffee shop and towards the man that had such a pull on her.

"Hey, are you alright?"  Wynter was so excited by the unexpected contact on her shoulder that she jumped and her hand knocked over the rest of her latte.  It spilled all over the floor and burned her hand.

"Woah, hey, I'm sorry.   I didn't mean to scare you."  Wynter recognized the face of the waiter from before.  He still smiled at her in the most friendly way.  His girlfriend, Wynter noticed, stood beside him.  Although she was not smiling, Wynter sensed a shy demeanor, not a rude one.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just..."  Wynter quickly turned over her attention back to the window, the man was still staring.

"Just what?"  The waiter asked.

"Nothing.  I've got to go."  Wynter said while grabbing the coat she had thrown over the back of the stool. 

"Would you like a refill?  It's on the house."  Wynter looked into the boy's eyes, in wonder at his kindness.  She couldn't believe that someone whom she didn't even know could be so generous.  Shaking her head, Wynter pulled herself from her thoughts.

"Um, no, that's sweet, thank you.  I just, I really have to go now.  But here."  Wynter tipped the man a five and gave him a smile.

"And look, I'm really sorry about the mess.  Normally, I wouldn't do this but it's really important that I—"

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself.  I work here, remember?  Messes are kind of my thing."  

Wynter dipped her head at him then ducked out of the shop quickly.  She had already reached her resolve and was heading toward the fountain quickly, hoping the man would still be there.  The streets seemed to have calmed down quite a bit from when Wynter had looked at them earlier.  Butterflies flew rampant in the pit of her stomach, but she kept up her brisk pace.

Finally approaching the fountain, she was disappointed by what she saw.  No one was there.  The guy that had once been sitting inches from where she now stood was gone.  And there was no sign of him.  Slowly, Wynter walked over to the fountain and sat where she knew he had been moments before.  It was the only part of the fountain that was no longer covered in snow.  She sat and watched her breath billow out in a pile of white as the heat mixed with the chilly air.  Wynter wished she had made it in time to at least talk to the man, but also knew it was for the best that he had left.  He was, after all, a stranger and could have even been dangerous.  It was frustrating to think that, if she ever saw him again, she wouldn't recognize him.  His hood had remained over his head the whole time.

Wynter looked up at the dark sky above.  She knew, though it was not yet considered late, her parents wouldn't appreciate her being out alone when the sky was so dark.  Getting up from the fountain, Wynter headed home, excited to see what her mother had cooked for dinner.  Also, she was glad to move out of the empty town square, where she felt as though someone was watching her.

Wynter mercilessly stabbed the last piece of her mother's specialty green beans with her fork and popped it into her mouth.  Her mother was a wonderful cook, and French onion chicken was Wynter's favorite meal.

"So, how was it?"  Nichole asked her daughter.

"Mom, it was great, you know it was.  Of course, I may be a little bias since this is my favorite meal."  Nichole smiled, evident happiness radiating from her soul.  There was no sign of the earlier tension.

"I'm glad you liked it."  Wynter dipped her head and began clearing the table.

"Uh, no, Wynter.  What are you doing?"

"Clearing the table."

"Look, it's your first night back.  How about you let your mother and I worry about that, and you can start cleaning whatever you like tomorrow?" 

Wynter smiled and nodded.

"Thanks guys, for everything.  Good night."

"You're going to bed already?"  Nichole was disappointed at her daughters rush to be in bed.  She thought it was somehow meant as a slight because of their earlier conversation of Wynter's love life.

"Well, I'll at least be in my room.  I think I'll type up my paper tonight, that way I won't have to worry about homework over Christmas.  I'm saying good night now because I'll probably be too lazy to get up and say it later."  Wynter explained as she moved to exit the kitchen.

"Well, good night then honey.  Sleep tight."

"'Night!"  She ran up the stairs then, two at a time.  Eager to lay her head down on the comfortable bed and ponder over the day, Wynter burst into her room.  She felt bad about telling her parents she was going to do homework when in reality she had already finished the paper before she left school.  Lying seemed to be necessary.  It was only seven o'clock and, in truth, Wynter didn't think she was in the right mood to be spending time with her family.  She felt an emptiness inside of her.  The feeling was gnawing and annoying, and sad.  As Wynter lay on her bed, she absentmindedly ran her right hand over her left side, it was still sore. 

Flashbacks of her near death experience invaded her mind.  Even going over the event in her head again did not make it any clearer.  By all accounts, she should have been hit.   An image of the man at the fountain slowly crept into Wynter's vision and she imagined what he would look like with his hood pulled down.  These thoughts circled her mind as her eyes grew heavy.  No longer able to fight, she let sleep take her, having no intention to wake before the sun rose on her face.