Clean | ✓

jeden

Robert remembered the time where he had to rush to the nearest hospital late Saturday after a game when Elle's heart collapsed sending her to a few hours coma. His heart and mind were in complete mess that he couldn't think straight; no words could be rolled out his tongue.

(And if you touched him, he might die slowly.)

(As if he wasn't dead from the start.)

He had waited hours huddling under the thin black coat in the waiting room, listening to faint beeping of machines plugged to patients from nearby rooms, struggling to fight for their lives, listening to faint footsteps of the alive walking and the noises from the late rerun on small tv hanged on the wall.

Then, he remembered.

They would watch reruns on Saturday night, she would cook some simple dishes or baked cookies or any pastries (or last choice he would call take outs) and they would gather ever snacks living in their cabinets. He would push the coffee table away and arranged pillows and comforters and they would watch whatever is airing on the tv and fell asleep at 4 am in front of the opened tv.

Right now, he probably won't get the same chance again.

Then, when the doctor called them in, Mama had give him a piece of advice (actually a lot) but one applied most to him right now. About how people would go and people will be replaced.

He never believed in that.

Not until he meet Karlie. It had been months after her death and he was trying to move on in the new city of Munich playing for a new club now. Flat Top Coffeeshop has always been his local coffee place and Karlie is one of the worker.

Karlie is the name etched on her name tag is a barista at the neighbourhood coffeeshop.

She has light brown hair that fall right above her shoulder forming a bob with her growing bangs braided to side. Her brown eyes are soft and warm (minus the growing bags under her eyes that's surely not Louis Vuitton.)

She never really had his attention; she is like the same copy of the rest of the Germans around him that he meet daily. Well, not until he caught her serving coffee while occasionally and trying to secretly glance at the opened book wedged between two jar of straws behind the counter.

So, he cleared his throat and she startled, jumping back almost spilling the milk she was pouring (excessively) in his cup.

'Sie lessen? (You're reading?)'

She had her hands against her chest and she stared at him as blushes appeared on her cheeks. 'Uhh--' She placed the cup down and hesitated, 'Introduction to Social Psychology and Criminology.' She continued making his order as he took his time to process every words.

'Criminology?'

She looked up and the corner of her lips curled slightly teasing him, 'Criminology, yeah, Kryminology, whatever way you Polish said.' She placed the top on the cup and placed on the far left counter which is the coffee pick up place.

'Well close, but not precise. It's kryminologia,' He glanced at her among the bottles arranged on the counter, 'So you do know me?'

'I'm not going to lie, it's really hard to guess. Maybe it's the black hoodie, not the blue and red backpack you are carrying.' She teased, mentioning the Bayern backpack he had on.

He laughed along with her and nodded, grabbing a couple packet of sugar, creamer and a spoon, 'Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry. What a stupid question to ask.' He muttered.

Their eyes met for a few seconds and when she felt as if he was staring deep enough to read her soul, she diverted her eyes away from his dangerous blue. 'Uhh, thanks for dropping by at Flat Tops Coffeeshop. Please come again.' She muttered with a smile and leave to head back to the counter to take the next order.