A Collection of Short Misery

Hjerteknuser

When she thought back on it, she knew it was fate that brought her to step into that small, nameless café hidden away between all the niche-shops and struggling restaurants.

Her heels had clicked loudly against the gritty floors, wrecking the sleepy atmosphere in the café. The only thing that mattered in her world was the phone in front of her face, her eyes never leaving it when she smacked down a five and placed her order - coffee, black. She needed her coffee in the morning and her usual place, the speedy little coffee-shop that supplied the unfortunate train-goes with their coffee, was momentarily closed.

Health regulations or something like it, she didn't really care.

"Here you go," the voice that cut through her thoughts had somehow pulled her away from the bright screen and her eyes had turned to him for the first time.

To her, it was like time stopped and her heart danced. Right in front of her face, holding out a steaming cup of coffee, was perfection itself. His smile took her breath away, shining like the sun. The messy hair on his head, so brilliantly yellow like lemons and happiness, framed his face and a few stray strands fell in front of his eyes.

His eyes; they were what sealed the deal and caught her. The eyes of a god, so full of life and laughter and confidence. Never before had she seen anything like it.

And suddenly, the world turned back to operating at it's normal pace. The friendly smile on his face faltered for a second, as she stared at him, definitively having made him uncomfortable. But she was quick to gather herself and forced on a polite smile, taking the cup from his hands. His fingers brushed her hand for no more than a heartbeat, and still, it had left fire in it's wake.

A light blush lingered on her face when she stepped away, heading to the nearest table. She did not look away from him once, whilst he didn't spare her a second thought.

She remained there, sipping her coffee, all thoughts of getting to her train in time gone. And she smiled to herself, her phone abandoned on the table as she made a promise to herself.

Tomorrow, she'd be back. The coffee at the train-station wasn't nearly as good, anyway.

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She honored her promise and kept going back. But it was impossible not to. He kept invading her thoughts, popped up in her daydreams and wouldn't leave her alone. With every breath she took, she tasted the black coffee and smelled the fresh pastries.

After two weeks, she had an entire little notebook of information she'd gathered. Her research, the little things she observed when she sat there and watched him serve customer after customer. His name, his birthday and his shifts at work. Little notes on how he moved, how he held himself and how he worded himself. She was an artist and these things were noticed, they mattered to her.

Even then, as she sat there late at night, she watched him. Noted down how he scrubbed at the counter so vigorously, focused on nothing but that one, stubborn stain.

The clock on the wall claimed she'd been there for almost two hours and she knew, they would be closing soon. Her cup was empty and there was only one other customer there, a homeless man she'd seen her little obsession give leftover cakes to more than once. In a way, she envied that homeless man, as he got so many more smiles than she ever did.

She shook off those ridiculous thoughts, closed her notebook and tucked her pencil back into her bag. As she stood and headed for the door, she threw him one last glance, but he did not see her.