The Last We Fell

01. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔖𝔥𝔦𝔣𝔱

-𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗-

The mornings in St. Honors city suburbs aren't quite nearly as noisy or busy as the centre where people rush in every direction chasing work and transportation. Mondays are not such a dreadful affair since they're mostly unoccupied this semester for me. I don't know what kind of lucky being has blessed me, but I'm sure not complaining. Although, even when I say that, I'm still spending the day working part-time, so it's not like I'm free to do as I wish. In fact, the shift that starts at 8am and ends at 12pm in the coffee shop is followed right up by another shift in the annex clinic that spans another six hours. By the end of the day, all I aspire to do is have a long night of sleep in preparation for the following university morning.

Opening the cosy café brimming with the warmth and appetizing smell of freshly baked goods and newly brewed coffee is a luxury I'm able to enjoy to the fullest away from all the usual stress of life. It helps that it's a specialty coffee house run by the old man Leo. I have often wondered how a man whose scalding looks and permanent frown planned to run a successful café exactly, but having worked here during the entirety of my high school weekends I am able to confirm that it is, indeed, very wrong to judge books by their covers. I am convinced Leo is just a giant stuffed teddy bear in macho-Italian-man skin. He was quite harmless. Granted, only tough-skinned customers are really able to brave the odds of the mighty scowl to find the kind man behind it, but they're almost instantly charmed, and pledge loyalty to The Coffee House.

"Cara, your shift's almost up." Leo's deep voice called my attention as I served my last customer.

"Really?" I looked up at the clock in confusion. It certainly felt like time flew by. The café was busier than usual today for some reason. "Lucky me, I guess."

"Come here," He waved me over. One of my co-workers had just taken over so I could step back without worry. Folding my apron and tucking it away neatly, I took a seat at Leo's table. He gave me a disapproving glance, looking up from his newspaper. "You haven't taken a single thing for lunch today. What do I do with you?"

I smiled sheepishly, folding my hands and trying to peek curiously at the newspaper. "I just lost track of time, old man. Don't worry about it."

"Lost track of time my ass." He grunted, telling my co-worker Sam to get me a vanilla latte and a couple pastries. He then pointed at me, with annoyance. "And who do you think you're calling an old man, little girl?"

"Ah," I gave Sam an apologetic smile. He didn't have to serve me on top of his customers as well. Leonardo could be such a mother hen sometimes, but I'm glad of it. I'm desperate enough to accept the scraps of his generous parental attention since I've never known any. I smiled bitterly at the thought.

"Don't pull that face with me, cara." He sighed, taking my hand in his carefully. It was quite cute to see his brows furrow in a sympathetic and worried expression, though for any outsider, he probably looked like an angry giant. "Just don't skip your meals, okay? You know I don't like it when you do that. Is it the money? Do you need a raise?"

I couldn't help but laugh. Shaking my head, I squeezed his sturdy strong hand, though he probably didn't feel the gesture. "I'll have none of that, Leo. Thank you. You're already paying us a generous amount. Any more and we'd be plainly robbing you."

"Tsk." He shook his head, but his lips were lifted in a barely there smile. "You worry for them and they call you an old man. Children these days."

"I'm twenty-three, soon to be twenty-four." I pretended to look about curiously, "I don't see any children around here... Oh, you must mean Sam."

"I heard that!" He shouted indignantly from behind the counter.

Leo chuckled hoarsely, putting the papers aside. I smiled proudly, being able to entertain him was oddly satisfying. He pat my hand and retrieved his own. "Eat up before you leave, Rose. Wouldn't want you fainting or worse, God forbid." His expression darkened just at the thought. I decided not to test his patience any longer and tucked into the food.