Sunflower Café

27

... A lot of things I regret, but I just say I forget,
Why can't it just be easy?
Why does everybody need me to stay? ...

–H

"Weed tastes disgusting with puke mouth."

     "Bet it tastes like arse."

     "You would know."

    Harry had arrived at Amaya's humble abode as previously arranged, midday Sunday. The humid, lemon yellow day promised a good outcome. Soft wind kisses and burnt auburn leaves promulgated the approaching autumn. He knocked softly, a silent prayer strung on his lips begging a divinity to be met with the beautiful woman on the other side of the wooden barrier.

     His arrival was quiet, hesitant raps on the door and a meek calling of her name. The wounded butterflies flapping in the pit of his stomach reminded him of his previous attempt, mocking his insecurities and cowering him to the repressed corners of his mind. Her delayed greetings fed the nervous tumult of creatures, impulsing his decision to turn the knob with shaky hands and peek his head through the crack.

     The open floor plan of the house displayed the entirety of the downstairs area, allowing for a quick detection of the sad-eyed beauty. She was crouched on her knees in the desolate space that conjoined the rooms around her. A lump of dirt and unidentifiable greenery lay before her dirtied hands.

     It was a confusing sight to behold. An almost finished blunt dangled dangerously from her bottom lip, wisps of pale smoke veiled her features, several rebellious curls found their way past her bun to the mess in her hands, a frustrated glimmer of betraying tears wetting the spilt earth. With a defeated groan, Amaya grabbed a fractured piece of ceramic which, in the split second of a blink, shattered against a nearby wall.

     Another growl of anger tore through the room, this time followed by the thumping of a body colliding with the floor. The palms of her soiled hands met her pinched closed eyes, staining her velvet skin with brown splotches.

Quiet pads of furry paws found their way to her head and tangled in her hair. The wet kiss of the timid puppy caught her attention. With a rapidness as a reflex to a red-hot flame, the animal jumped backwards as its owner scowled up at her.

"Go," Amaya's stern voice echoed. Her hand pointed sternly towards the stairs. "Now."

Nala disobeyed, balancing herself through the mess of broken ceramic and piles of soil. "Stop, I said leave! You're going to hurt yourself." Amaya sat up and grabbed the creatures collar. "Go. Now." With a gentle nudge, the husky was sprinting up the stairs and far from sight.

"Paciencia puñeta. Paciencia, paciencia, paciencia." She tugged on her hair with a frustrated sigh. "She's just a puppy, she's just a puppy, she's just a puppy..." The sentence was repeated several times until Harry's arrival was made known.

     He took a tentative step through the door with another soft knock and let it close beside him with an audible sound loud enough to capture her attention. The crease between her eyebrows, her sudden urge to fix her posture and pluck the blunt from her lips hinted her confusion. "Harry?"

"Uh, hi." His voice unwillingly wavered, a pink hue of nerves tinging his cheeks.

Her eyes softened with the gentle curve of her lips. "Hi froggy boy. Watcha doin' here?"

Harry's fingers fumbled with the rough surface of the stems in his hands. His feet tingled with the urge to approach her but run out the door at the same time. "You told me to come?" It was disappointing to hear his answer be more of a question than an answer. His anxiousness was as painfully obvious as a sore thumb and she could smell it like a bloodhound.