His Pink Umbrella(Voyeur #1)

Day 1

          It was raining the afternoon I was at the cafe. I was seated in one of the new reading couches set in a far corner by the bay windows. The cafe had been recently renovated. It had been a decent looking place for the last ten years (no better than a shack actually, even that is highly speaking of it).

          Now it has been upgraded to give it a more lavish, exuberant feel. The inside reads elegance and it's airy and spacious due to the new arrangement of furniture and the large windows.

          People with habits similar to mine often came here to relax, eat and have a good time. Some visited with a group of friends while there were some who like me came here to simply enjoy the cozy ambience, drink coffee and read in a peaceful setting.

          A waitress who is about the same age as me, with tons of piercings and dressed in all black walks up to me and asks, "The usual ma'am?" She scribbles something down in her notepad before I can get a word out. "One large iced coffee with extra cream and three cookies. Five minutes," she declares with a grin and scurries away.

          I frequent the cafe and have been doing it more so than lately to work on my latest story and to get away from home. I self-publish my stories online. And there is no better place than a cafe where one can eat, write and people-watch without being labelled a creep.

          The speakers are softly playing Ellie Goulding's 'Love me like you do' as I tap my fingers absentmindedly against the keyboard. My Microsoft page sits blank on the screen and I realize that I need some sort of a boost, an inspiration. I should have been doing my junior college homework which was due tomorrow but instead I am stuck here wanting to write and yet finding no ideas.

          I am broken out of my thoughts by the sound of clanking glasses and plates. My little self-treat has arrived. Food will be my inspiration, I muse.

          "There you go!" the waitress beams. Her eyes latch onto my hands. I look down to see what has held her attention and swiftly pull down the edges of my long sleeves until it swallows up the whole of my left hand. I peek hesitantly to see her watching me with her head tilted to the side like she is contemplating over something.

          Why is she giving me that look? Like she is expecting me to own up? I haven't done anything wrong. She merely shakes her head, more to herself and walks away. I let out a sigh of relief and peel the sleeve away. A two inch long bruise has been burned into the back of my palm, red and ugly. I rub against it lightly then cover it back up.

          In case you are wondering, no, I am not suicidal nor do I have an abusive boyfriend. How I wish that were the case though. At least that way I could have gotten rid of the nuisance sooner.

          As I am busy binge eating a shadow passes by the window that makes me glance up. It's a pink umbrella. Clouds and unicorns decked it's surface. The phrase 'Unicorns farting rainbows' crosses my mind. The umbrella half turned to reveal the individual holding it. My jaw unhinged and I am pretty sure I let out a dramatic gasp.

          The part that made me stare was not just the umbrella itself but the person who was holding it. He wasn't much older than me, maybe by two or three years. So I will address him as a 'man' instead of a boy even with his odd fondness to feminine objects. He was attractive in a nerdy way like Tom Hiddleston. Tom is my lover by the way. In my dreams, of the wildest kind.

          The thing I couldn't comprehend was why a grown-up man who looks like him would own something that childish and frivolous. Not like that's a bad thing. I am pretty sure he could rock a tutu skirt too. But it's just uh unexpected, for lack of a better word.

          He didn't notice me acting mentally disturbed which is good. He looked this way and that when suddenly his eyes lit up with recognition as he gazed across the street. Crossing it he stepped into the bakery opposite the cafe and disappeared from my sight.

          I kept glancing up every few minutes from my laptop hoping to capture a glimpse of sex-personified but to no avail. Eventually I decided to give up and pack my belongings. He must have left using a back door.

          The clock on the wall reads four pm. I have been here for over two hours. Placing the bill and the money under the weight of a glass I head outside. It hadn't been a fruitful Sunday. Maybe I would have better luck tomorrow. Maybe. Time to go face my nightmare now.

A/N: For those of you who don't know, the name Andrei is pronounced as Ahn-dray. It belongs to a friend of mine :)