Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

8. My Milkshake Brings...

For my house to be filled with the scent of brew makes me happier than you can understand. With that being said, I've haven't been to my favorite shop in the past two weeks. I wanted to break the clockwork routine.

This morning, that may have remained true if Lana didn't text me, "Running late. Can you pick me up a coffee?"

As I stroll down the street, I text back, "No problem." sipping on my homemade glazed donut latte.

Opening the door to Timmy's, the aroma kicks my coffee aroma's ass. I need a candle like this. As I take my place in line, I read an e-mail from Eddie reminding everyone that we have a lunch meeting at 12.

"Lunch at Liman." I nod, making a mental note as I take a step forward. Returning to my e-mails, I scroll and note the doctor's appointment I have after work. "I don't feel like going, but I have to," I mutter. "What else is poppin' today?" I take another step and sip.

"You won't be needing that today." Someone takes my arm and leads me out of line. What the hell? I pull away to see my abductor, then sigh as my eyes roll from heaven to hell. HELL NAAAAH!

"You've got to be kidding me." I tuck my phone away. "My friend wanted the coffee," I state my business as I look back at the line.

"Tell them to get their own." My captor sounds the chime as he opens the door. Oh, this is different.

"Where are we going?" I tap the top of my head for sunglasses, but I am quickly disappointed.

"I say one thing about dangerous routines and you go missing." Marcel releases my arm. I stop my pacing to stop his. "I came back the following morning with a peace offering and you left me hanging." Oh, that sounds familiar.

"Wow, cool story." I turn around, wanting to get Lana's coffee.

"Hold on. Hold on." Marcel comes before me, tucking away his blowing, brown curls. "How about we do something different today?" His tone is charming, but with how he spoke to me in our last seating, it goes over my head.

"We?"

"I'm not speaking French." He sasses. I shield my eyes from the bright sun. Using him as shade, I step over a bit. Better.

"What do you want?

"I want to know how you feel about milkshakes?"

"I feel that they're cold." I pester, making him scoff and glance at the concrete below our feet.

"Did you walk here?"

"Yes." I stand on the sides of my white, Air Force 1s for a second.

"May I drive you somewhere?" He pulls his lips into his mouth as he tucks his ringed fingers into his back pockets. Who is this?

"I barely know you enough to get into a car with you."

"How about we walk?" He aims with his extended arm. Damn, how far do you wanna go?

"From what you're saying, it's a bit of one."

"I don't bite." He tilts his head as he smiles. My eyes closed as my head doesn't know which way to move. I beg to differ.

"You bit my head off the firs-"

"We've grown since that, Angel."

"What about two weeks ago?" I remind.

"Angel." Marcel sighs at the fact that his effort isn't working. "Please." He begs, his smile shines brighter in the morning sun. "It'll be time for work soon and I can drop you off." He offers.