belle ;
"don't you ever just...get sick of it?"
i raised my eyebrow at zayn and shook my head quickly, turning my attention back to the oven where my croissants were being baked. we were standing in the back room of the coffee shop, having the same conversation that we discussed almost every day now.
"every things the same here, belle." the older boy took a look around the small kitchen and sighed. "don't get me wrong, i love quilts and you guys but...don't you ever just miss the excitement?"
"i don't have time for excitement, zayn."
the oven buzzed quietly, indicating that the pastries inside had finished cooking. i grabbed the faded oven mitt and slipped it on as i had done many times and opened the oven. i breathed in the smell of the fresh dough and took the pan out, placing it carefully on the table where zayn sat, watching me. i took the oven mitt off and closed the out of date oven silently, sitting back down across from my coworker and friend.
"everyone has time for excitement." he argued calmly.
"not me,"
"yes, you."
"no."
"yes."
"no,"
"yes,"
"zayn,"
"belle,"
he smiled at me, but i didn't feel like returning it this time. though the conversation was light between us, it still troubled me. zayn had a point. everyday for the past few years, my life had been the same daily routine. get up, attend school, watch after my younger sister and help my grandparents at the coffee shop.
sure, it wasn't the most exciting life, but it was nice for awhile.
but times had changed and so did the people around me. school ended, my sister started to grow up on me, and my gramp had passed away. now my life was more stressful. watching after my sister became my full responsibility along with aiding my depressed grandmother.
as sad as it was, i really didn't have time for excitement in my life. i had too many responsibilities to do.
"you could do it, you know." i barely heard zayn, he was looking down at the table; his voice no more than a mumble.
"do what?" i looked away from the tan boy, already knowing his answer.
"go back to school, get a decent education." i could feel his eyes watching me, though i dared not to look at him.
"i can't, you know that just as well as i do, zayn." i sighed.
"yes you could!" he seemed to be getting more and more excited as he developed his plan. "i could watch after georgia and work extra shifts-"
"no. gram and i could never ask you to do that." i shook my head quickly. "it's too much."
"it's not. georgia loves me for pete's sake and i'd much rather be here than at home." he reasoned.
i shook my head again, there was no way i could ever let zayn to do that. if i took my classes back up at the university, it would mean he would have to work double the amount of shifts he does now. along with that, watching after a seven year old isn't the easiest thing to do.
"i really do appreciate it, zee, but now's just not the time for me to be going back. maybe when georgia gets a little older."
"alright, i understand." he gave me a small smile and a little nod, but i could tell he was disappointed with my decision.
"oh zayn, we have a customer." i heard my gram call out from the front of the shop. "can you take care of him, please?"
zayn scrunched up his nose and gave me a funny look, causing me to laugh at how much of a goof he was. he shot me a grin before answering my grandmother and walking out to the front.
i chuckled a bit to myself, turning back to the cooling croissants on the table. they were cinnamon apple, one of my favourites. i tried picking one up, but recoiled my hand back quickly. they were still burning hot from the oven. wincing slightly, i slipped the oven mitt back on and took the tray to the front.
the shop was basically empty, only one or two customers sat inside; mingling quietly. i tried to keep my attention on the full pan in my hands, making sure not to bump into anything as i carried it in front of the front display case that held all the pastries.
somebody clearing their throat caught my attention and i looked up quickly, still holding the breakfast treats. it was the curly haired boy; our regular. i didn't think it was noon already, and the clock above the door only proved me wrong. it was twelve o'clock sharp.
i gave him a small smile, i was genuinely happy to see him. something about him, calmed me down. maybe it was his aura, though i was never one to believe in those things. that was more zayn than me.
"hello," the boy mumbled out quietly to me, giving a small wave with his hand.
that, alone, was enough to make me drop the still hot pan of croissants on the ground in shock. zayn's eyes widened in surprise, but i wasn't sure if it was from the tray or the boy who finally found his voice. i gasped and bent down quickly, trying to pick up the now ruined pastries, along with the metal pan they were on.
i, stupidly, grabbed one of the croissants with the wrong hand and winced again; the pastries still hot to the touch.
"you little duck.." i muttered under my breath in annoyance at myself.
i saw another pair of hands, and rather large ones at that, help me pick up some of the biscuits. he was quick, careful not to burn himself like i had. i looked up, still crouched down and saw him bent in front of me. his eyes met mine for the slightest moment and i thought i saw a smile, but he was already standing back up; clearly embarrassed.
i blinked a few times, trying to memorize the specific details i had witnessed from seeing his face up close for once. his eyes were a meadow type of green and it reminded me of my bedroom wall color. he had some slight acne on his forehead, but really, who didn't? and when he smiled, his eyes would get these little crinkles underneath.
i shook my head a bit, realizing how creepy i seemed; trying to remember his face when he was still standing in front of me. i blushed and stood back up, holding the tray carefully this time and looked up at him.
he was tall. he definitely had a few inches over me, that was for sure. i blushed a little, suddenly embarrassed over the little scene i caused.
"tha-" i tried to thank him for helping me, but got cut off.
"belle! go get rid of those croissants and start a new batch," my gram called out to me from her table, still working on the taxes.
i nodded, shuffling away quickly to the backroom, not saying another word to either zayn or the boy.
. . . .
an hour later the mess was cleaned up and the new batch of croissants were being baked in the out of date oven. i was standing at the front counter with zayn, looking outside at the windy weather of acton.
he was still here, drinking his second cup of black coffee over in the corner by the window. his sketch pad was open to a fresh page, and all though i couldn't exactly see what he was drawing; i had a feeling that it was a good one today.
i kept replaying the scene from earlier in my head, how he had finally talked. i had been waiting months to hear his voice, to know what he sounds like. and now i finally knew.
his voice was deep and slightly raspy, like he wasn't used to using it that much. though, i couldn't really tell due to the fact that he only said one word.
"why don't you just go talk to him?" zayn leaned against the wooden counter and looked at me.
"who?" i propped my head up on my hands, putting my elbows on the counter.
"you know who." his voice lowered a little. "curly over there."
"why would i go talk to him?"
"don't act stupid, belle. i see you stealing glances over to him every minute or so." he smirked, knowing he had got me.
luckily a customer walked in, bringing a large gust of wind inside with her, and distracted zayn and saved me of an answer. while he took care of the woman, i thought to myself.
why didn't i just go talk to him? i can't just sit here and peek over at him for the rest of the time. i mean, it took him months to even just say hello; how long do you think it would take for him to have an actual conversation?
i bit my lip nervously, still unsure if this was a good idea or not; what if he didn't want to talk to me? what if he was actually crazy or something? but nonetheless i got up and walked out from behind the front counter and over to his table, stopping right before it.
he didn't seem to hear me at first so i cleared my throat a bit, as he did earlier, and smiled. he looked up, clearly startled and took an intake of breath. his eyes were wide and he made a quick move to cover his sketchpad.
my gram always taught me to be polite, so i gave him my brightest smile and returned his earlier greeting.
"hello."
. . . . .
on the side is the beautiful kristina romanova aka belle foster. she was in the "wake me up" music video by avicii. and that's when she's stealing peeks over at harry in the coffee shop.
also, in the external link is the link to the watty awards where this story is up for best harry. i would appreciate it if you took just a minute and voted for black (#5).
please vote and comment, your feedback is the reason i write and it inspires me to update early. i really love reading what you guys think so far and i'd like to know if you enjoy where the story is going and so forth.
dedication goes to zen for letting me use his nickname
thank you xx
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