I knew I shouldn't have teased him.
I knew I was probably a fool for even trying, and that this, realistically, could never end well. But I've always been the curious type and he, the guy behind the counter with the constant smile, had sparked my interest.
So despite all the warnings I received, everytime the flame I poked at and played with scalded my fingertips in punishment, I continues to tease him so.
At first the daily visits were for the coffee, but soon I was sitting in the same booth everyday, where he could watch me, and ordered the same thing each time so that the moment I walked in it would sometimes already be brewed for me; he'd be leaning against the cash machine and accept the one pound and thirty pence with a brush of fingers.
But on that cold Autumn day, I'd felt the change. I'd wrapped the scarf more than enough times around my neck, away from him: apparently he'd also felt like a change.
Well, he definitely had, I could see it in the way he smiled differently, and how those words left his familiar lips with a hint of mischief.
"It won't be long."
His skin touching mine felt like fire, but it sent a shiver down my spine.
The cold clung to my spine like a clan my palm on the small of my back as I walked home with my coffee, wondering what on Earth he meant, or whether I was simply putting ideas into my own head.
And then I realised that he had always smiled the same way.
YOU ARE READING
Creepy Boy.
Teen FictionEveryday on the way home, a boy stops by the coffee shop. Everyday he orders the same thing, to eat in and watch one of the employers. It's not unconscious, and he knows it's not unnoticeable. He'll allow them to remain strangers only as long as it...
