Chapter 2 - Christian

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   Two hours later, she is no longer running. Instead, she sits hunched over in an empty booth at a café she can't recall having ever heard of before. She peers under the table at her feet, bruised and cut up from not wearing shoes as she ran through the streets. The physical pain hardly bothers her against the confusion and fear plaguing the back of her mind.

Suddenly a shadow is cast over her figure. She sits up quickly and checks over the young man looking down at her, although notices that he's wearing the uniform of the café and her anxiety dissipates for the time being. In his hand is a cup of something hot, possibly hot chocolate, judging by the scent, which he sets down on the table in front of her. She offers him a small, weak smile.

"I didn't order anything," she confesses, eyeing the mug enviously. The young man laughs softly and shrugs.

"I know," he tells her, taking a seat across from her. She warily glances back over her shoulder to see if they're being watched, or if anyone noticed him approach her. Everyone appears oblivious. "I saw you looking at the menu before, but it didn't look like you had any money, so I figured I'd shout you a drink," he explains. She narrows her eyes at him.

"What makes you think I don't have any money?" she demands. He glances down beneath the table, at the shreds of her feet.

"Just a guess," he mumbles, then flashes her a cheeky grin. She smiles back at him despite herself. Of course, she looks like a wreck. Having just run god knows how far with no shoes on, followed by trekking blood through the small café to not even order anything for the past fifteen minutes of sitting here, wallowing in self-doubt, it's not much of a stretch for this young man to assume she's having a tough day.

"Shouldn't you be working?" she asks him, trying to distract herself from the reality of her situation. She wraps her hands around the mug, greedily drawing out its warmth. He shrugs again and brushes a stray strand of black hair from his eyes.

"I just finished my shift," he tells her. She nods slowly and then drags the hot chocolate towards her, before tentatively taking a sip. The beverage scalds her lips and tongue, but she welcomes the sensation as she feels the heat travel to the pit of her stomach, warming her from the inside out. "What's your name?" the young man asks. "I'm Christian, but most people call me Chris." The girl hesitates, before reluctantly responding.

"Alex." Chris smiles, accepting the name as truth, despite that she still doesn't quite believe it herself.

The pair settle into a temporary silence as 'Alex' enjoys her free drink. Chris watches her curiously.

"So, what's your story?" he eventually asks. She hesitates, having half-expected the question, yet still not really having an answer. He seems to sense her unease. "What happened?" His tone of voice has changed, becoming darker as he gently probes into potentially sensitive territory. Alex places her mug back on the table in front of her, before running a hand through the soft, brown threads of her hair.

"I... don't exactly know..." she mumbles reluctantly. She glances around the café again before continuing with a softer voice, "I woke up this morning in a stranger's house, and I can't remember what happened..." Chris frowns, although it seems to be a look of sympathy.

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