Complementary Colors (Liam Payne)

Yellow & Violet: 3

        It was on November 1, 1970 that Hattie visited the pizza parlor once again. Heavy raindrops fell upon the roof that day, and the smell of baked bread sent my stomach into a frenzy of growls. I was preparing a pepperoni pie when her loud voice met my line of hearing, causing me to cock my head to the side and turn on my heel.

        My co-worker, Louis, was taking her order at the time, and I waited until he finished up and approached me to open my mouth.

        "I got this one, Lou," I whispered, gently taking the piece of paper with Hattie's order on it from his grasp.

        It was no secret that relief flooded his features at my actions.

        His father was a police officer of fifteen years, getting a first-hand view of segregation when it was at its peak. This lead to Louis and his sisters growing up in a household where befriending blacks was completely frowned upon. Considering this, it was obvious that waiting on Hattie made Louis  uncomfortable.

        I watched as the young lad walked to the other side of the diner, beginning to take the order of a family with milk-colored skin.

        My gaze shifted to the paper in my hand, and I hurriedly got busy preparing Hattie's meal. It wasn't long until I set a small pizza and a glass of water on the table before her.

        Her eyes flicked up to meet mine and a goofy grin quickly appeared on her face as she sent me a wave.

        "Oh Liam, how are you?" she questioned, getting up to squeeze me in her arms.

        I was still shocked by her hugs. I wasn't used to a person as kind as she.

        "I'm wonderful, and yourself?" I asked, taking a seat across from her as she began to eat.

        "Good, good."

        My head tilted to the side at the sight of her hat, and a laugh bubbled out of my lips soon after. She gave me a questioning look, a humorous glint in her eyes as her cheeks filled up with food.

        "It's quite ironic that your name's Hattie considering that you're wearing a hat everytime I see you."

        Upon swallowing her mouthful, she joined in on my giggling fest, and it wasn't long until both of our faces were red with happiness.

        "They're the dorkiest hats, I tell you," she said, shaking her head to and fro with a chuckle.

        "I like them," I responded, my head tilted back and my dark pink lips spread out as I admired the design in the fabric atop her head.

        "Why, thank you. I never thought they were dorky anyway!"