HOW TO KILL A NIGHTINGALE

.five.

"And in the end, we were all just humans...drunk on the idea that love, only love, can heal our brokenness."

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

November 27th.

"It's gonna rain."

Zayn was staring out the window, getting ready for work, when he noticed the grey clouds hovering the green meadows in the distance: sunlight streamed out of its edges, tracing out like a golden lining, but slowly the light disappeared and an overcast sky formed over the town; he grabbed his coat and wrapped up warm with his scarf. Josh was still asleep — he probably will be until ten — so he left him breakfast on the table and exited, carrying his umbrella with him.

Just as he had predicted, it started to drizzle when he opened the coffee shop; no longer than a few minutes later, Harry came in ruffling his slightly soaked hair. "Well, that was unfortunate," mumbled Harry.

"Where's Louis?" asked Zayn, tying up his apron.

"He and Gemma are still asleep," answered Harry, hanging his coat in Niall's office. "They were watching The Princess Bride late last night... Honestly, I don't know what they see in that movie — it's so boring."

Zayn smiled. "Hey, don't be mean. I liked that movie."

The rain stopped but the sky remained murky grey.

***

By noon it had started to rain again: Light showers drizzled down from the heavens like sugar dustings slowly falling onto a lemon meringue pie and the autumn wind sweeping it back and forth; and after an hour has passed, the rain became heavier, cascading onto the streets and creating puddles of water that splashed every time a car passed by or some kid under an umbrella jumped onto it with their boots.

Patrons of Mason's huddled together in groups inside the coffee shop and though the busy part of taking orders and serving them was already over, the entire space was slightly damp to the feeling, cramped up, and cozy: A little girl was playing with her doll on the table, talking to her and asking if she wanted some tea with cream and sugar; her brother who sat opposite her was fogging up the window with his breath and doodled nonsense onto it; two friends were busy chatting about the new movie they had just watched and how hot the actor was while slowly eating away the two slices of mousse cake they ordered; a young man was sitting at the bar, slurping noisily his coffee and eyes firmly glued onto the e-mails he was reading on his phone; a woman, also at the bar, had her earphones on as she read hastily the novel in her hands, vapour from her coffee wafting lazily across her face; two lovers cuddled in a corner, giggling silently and happily as they held hands in the most cheesy way possible while sporting glittery grins on their faces; and an old couple sat at the table next to the lovers, the man reading the morning's newspaper again and again while his wife was talking to him absent-mindedly, paying more attention to the tea in her hands rather than her husband, but they seem to understand each other as they conversed.

Zayn had already wiped up the bar twice, excusing to the young man and woman who seemed lost in their own worlds, but the rain still hasn't stopped; Josh lolled his head lazily against the wall as he sat on the stool behind the bar, mumbling on about how he hated the rain; Harry was in the kitchen, already getting bored that he wasn't actually doing any cooking; and Perrie was the only one busy, filing away paperwork into a systematic arrangement — as if they were honeycombs in a beehive — which she had been talking to Niall about a few times but had not managed to explain it properly yet (seeing that Niall had been going back and forth from Brookshire and London for some unfortunate meetings about his studies).