I shuffled my feet and my head hung low as my mother berated on and on about my “atrocious attire” to father’s charity gala.
“Honestly, Rayla. Wearing that horrendous long sleeved gown with flats? Surely you have more sense than that!”
In my defense, it was freezing cold outside and the heaters inside the hall were practically useless. It’s beyond me how most of the women could wear short dresses in that temperature.
Of course, if I ever dared to say that to her, she’d probably go on a rant on how she could wear a sleeveless gown even if we were in Antartica.
Instead, I opted to just nod my head and politely apologize in a clear voice.
She went on for another few more minutes before letting a disappointed sigh. Her eyes gave me a reprimanding stare and a heavy feeling weighed on me. A twinge of guilt made its way and my head hung even lower in shame. I didn’t mean to embarrass here in front of her friends, I just wanted to make sure I didn’t die of hypothermia.
I turned around and made my to the kitchen before remembering something I had wanted to ask them all day. I lingered in my place for a while, weighing down the pros and cons of my question. Deciding that it was worth the risk, I walked to my father who was loosening his tie at the living hall.
“Um, father, mother?” Father raised an eyebrow and looked at me questioningly, exhaustion circling his eyes. I felt bad for him and for a second, I wanted to just keep my mouth shut.
“Do we have any events this Wednesday?” I looked up straight to him as I spoke and tried my best to show no hint of how afraid I was of the answer.
Both of them stiffened slightly in their place for a brief moment before my father spoke up in his booming voice.
“Yes. Wednesday is going to be packed. I have an opening to go to the next town over, lunch with Mr. Mormont, a high tea for the new launch at Hillhigh and dinner with some government officials,” he rattled off, unaware of the fact that my heart broke bit by bit with every word.
It was like he didn’t care at all.
My heart was aching at his words and I felt resentment course through. I shifted my eyes to the ground for a second before I looked up to his eyes once again and was reminded of his tiring day. I swallowed down my unhappiness and protests at the sight. The guilt I felt before washed over me once again, this time tenfold.
It’s not that he doesn’t care, he’s just busy. Elections are so close and he can’t afford to lose. He’s probably feeling really guilty right now.
I reassured myself with these words; after all, he is my father.
My thoughts kept reprimanding me as I bid him goodnight and made my way to my room. I was dying to just change into baggy clothing and get out of these congesting party clothes. The day had been particularly exhausting and since I did not get my usual dosage of caffeine today, it was even worse. Without my coffee, I tend to get antisocial. Unfortunately, with all the events today, that was clearly not an option.
Although right now, I was just looking forward to crash into bed and sleep away the aching pain.
-
My eyes squinted as I read the time on my phone.
One thirty a.m.
Groaning mentally, I stifled an exasperated sigh into my pillow before slamming my head down on it. I blew my hay colored hair out of my sight and my eyes wandered around the barely lit room. I was having one of my usual cravings and unsurprisingly, this time, it was coffee.
Although, deep inside, I knew that wasn’t the only reason I was still awake.
I lay still on my bed, weighing my options. A hot caramel macchiato sounded tempting but so does staying in bed and let my poor muscles rest. My body was very reluctant to move but at the same time, I was literally seconds away from drooling over the thought of a hot coffee. After a few more moments of pondering, I forced myself to sit up from the comfortable bed.
“Coffee, you owe me big time for this,” I thought to myself wryly.
Trudging over to my wardrobe, I pulled a simple wooly sweater and a pair of worn out jeans. Pulling up a thick navy blue jacket over the top, I unplugged my phone from the charger and quietly made my way down to the front door. I tiptoed across my parent’s room, not wanting to wake them up after our hectic day. Once I heard the barely audible click of the front door, I paced out through the small gate at the side and onto the freshly plowed road.
I felt my body slump with relief and saw my breath curling into wisps in the frigid cold air. I took my time as I walked, not wanting to rush myself. Pulling my hair into a careless ponytail, I felt the cold wind brush harshly on my skin. Goosebumps raised along my skin as it made contact with the coldness. A soft smile made its way to my face as I relished in the feel of winter.
It was my favorite season. Not because of the calming air or the festive lights, although those are a bonus. It was because of the memories winter held for me and those memories are the ones that warm me up from the inside like summer melting out the remnants of winter, as ironic as that sounds.
The second my thoughts gingerly touched those memories, my mind went on an overdrive. It was a habit whenever I reminisce, hence why I try not to do it, although usually I fail.
Memories required too much of everything.
I could hear the muffled sounds of my Ugg boots crunching under the fresh snow, and I amused myself by letting out wispy breaths. Forcing myself to shift my thoughts away from the memories, I started thinking about the current events we’re having and the election that is looming over us. I would do almost anything to get my head to just stop thinking. Although I know my efforts will be in vain. Once those thoughts and memories are out, there is no shoving them back in the dark corners of your mind. There were moments where I wonder if I was ever in control of my own mind. I hated how it always subconsciously delves into the thoughts I’d rather keep hidden the minute I’m alone.
As I passed by the abandoned playground, I instinctively slowed down my pace. It was, it is, a sacred place to me. Just like that, the thoughts I had intensified and my resentment doubled. Focusing my attention to the sight before me, my heart sunk as I took in its slightly unkempt state.
My eyes raked through the playground’s contents; the swings, slides, monkey bars and the best of all, the old wooden see-saw. A grin played on my lips as I stared adoringly at it as the memories slip through my mind, one by one.
Those memories that I wanted throw away and yet at the same time, I wanted to relive it.
That’s the thing about memories. No matter how pleasant or how happy that memory is, it will always be tainted by longing, misery and bitterness.
It will always be tainted by the harshness of reality.
Every time I thought of these memories it annoys yet warms me. They mess around in my head and more of them start unfolding right before your eyes. You start replaying those memories and that goddamned feeling rises in your heart and gives it a squeeze that is painful yet pleasant at the same time. They turn you into an inflating balloon, just waiting to burst. Once there are too many memories trying to find space at the front of your head, you just expand and explode, making a loud meaningless commotion then.
After all, there is only so much a mind could take.
Many say that sadness can be a poison, but so can happiness.
I tore my eyes away from that bittersweet sight and swallowed the tightness that lodged itself in my throat. I continued the rest of my journey forcing my mind to shut down from those thoughts. It was better to not dwell upon it anyways.
Once I reached the café, I pushed the door open and heard the bell chime. My mood considerably lightened as my senses were attacked with calming smell of coffee and the heater warmed up my slightly shaking figure. I glanced at the window and saw my somewhat disheveled appearance. My eyes seemed wide and my lips were chapped and dry. I instinctively licked my lips to moist them and patted my warm cheeks. They were probably really pink at this point. I cringed the thought of my parents seeing me like this.
Mother probably would have a field day.
Snapping out of my musings, I hung my jacket and went up to the counter.
“Hey, Maddy. The usual please.”
She gave a nod and smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes. I could tell she was exhausted and my heart went out for her.
To an outsider, she may look like just another average girl with a passion for photography. She’s got a loving family, a likeable personality and her life set out for her.
What most don’t know that this girl is working a butt off so she has enough money to support herself when she goes to college in three months. Her parents are against of her taking up photography as a career, so when she got they gave her the choice of going to Harvard and take up law and they will pay for everything or she can take up the scholarship but she’s on her own.
There are times where I agree with her parents. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think they should abandon her to fend for her own, but a career in law is safer and secured job compared to being a photographer. I understand that it is her passion and just like her, I have one too. Ever since I was in middle school, I’ve wanted to be a makeup artist. There is something about the various colors and how it’s like art on your skin. My parents would never agree to this as a career; they’ve always wanted me to pursue political science and parents know their children best.
But I digress. As I took tray that held my coffee and muffin, I handed her the money, tipping her generously. She gave me a grateful smile and mumbled a thank you, looking slightly embarrassed. I gave her a warm smile and bid her a good night before taking a seat on one of the counters.
I held my head in my hand as I nibbled on my chocolate fudge muffin. I looked down at my so called supper a sardonic chuckle escaped my lips.
Mother would probably have a field day with this too.
I paused midway as I thought of the things that I like and how much parents would detest it if they ever found out. Biting my lip, I felt the usual guilt that seemed to affect me every time I doubted or disagree with my parents.
Honestly, I’m such an ungrateful child having these thoughts. They only wanted the best for me and here I am thinking that they’re out to ruin my life or something.
“Of course, they want the best for us. But that’s just the thing, they will never settle for anything less.”
I was struck still as that popped up in my head, making me feel queasy on the inside. That was the only time I had ever agreed on anything remotely bad on my parents because even if I wanted to deny it, there is no way around it.
Nobody is perfect and everyone is flawed, I have accepted that. I couldn’t say the same about my parents though.
Their refusal to accept flaws is their ultimate flaw.
My finger circled the cup of my coffee and I felt the heat and vapor touch on my skin. Nibbling on my muffin, I felt the fudge tingle my taste buds with its rich bittersweet taste and I remembered why I liked it so much.
Because of him.
It was always him.
Before my eyes, I saw the times that we spent in this very café together, laughing and giggling as quietly as we could, unfold. I would always order either an iced cappuccino or a hot caramel macchiato and he would stick with his tea. I would buy something that’s chocolate to eat even though I was having coffee and he would reprimand me for it while trying to steal some of my food at the same time. I could almost hear that infectious laughter of his that always sounded genuine. I could almost feel the warmth of his body whenever he hugged me. I could almost see the crinkle at the side of his eyes and how his nose would scrunch up just a bit whenever he smiled that mischievous smile of his. It was one of those rare smiles that only a select few get to see. It was him in all his glory.
Now, I just wonder if it was all just a mask.
It was as if I was caught in a whirlwind of thoughts that centered on him. His presence surrounded me even when he’s not around. It was like all my five senses zapped out of control and all I could do is just stay still in my spot as I hear his booming laughs, see his cheeky smiles, smelled the tea that I would forever associate with him, feel the warmth of his body encasing mine, telling me it’s okay, taste the macchiato that I always ordered even when he makes fun of it.
You may think he’s the center of my universe but that’s not true. I never had a universe to begin with because I was always stuck in his. My mind would forever be beautifully tainted by him and my heart would be ripped to absolute shreds and yet bloomed at the thought of him.
He made me a paradox and I hated the fact that I loved it.
I was snapped back to the harsh cold reality –no pun intended- when I heard a deep, rough voice behind me.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-Y-Yes, I’m fine,” I stammered slightly as I swiveled around my seat to meet the voice.
The minute my eyes made contact with those chocolate colored ones, I could have sworn my heart halted to a stop and then proceeded to go on an overdrive.
“I saw you from the cashier and you seemed really upset. Were you crying?” he said bluntly, his voice holding only a hint of concern.
“W-What? No, no I wasn’t. At least I don’t think so.”
Instinctively, my hands went up to my face to check for sticky tear tracks but found none. I didn’t dare to look at him in the eye as I fiddled with my fingers, shell shocked not only he’s talking to me, but he also sounded concerned of my wellbeing.
Although, there is a chance I’m just imagining all these. It is two in the morning after all.
“Are you sure? Because your cheeks are really flushed and you look kind of scared.”
Once again, my hands immediately cupped my cheeks and I felt them warm on the skin of my palms. I realized how bizarre of a sight I must have been with my messy hair and flushed face, my eyes widened as if I was in a trance. Subtly, I tried to pat my hair down, hoping I wasn’t looking as bad as I think I am.
“Um, I’m fine, really. Thank you for asking.”
I felt myself bloom on the inside to his concern and my heart thudded so loudly in my ribcage. Giddiness racked through my body as he stared at me as if trying to figure out if I was lying or not.
“He’s probably just concerned because you’re mayor’s daughter,” my conscience spoke up, stomping out my previously star struck mood.
Who am I kidding? Literally no one here actually would bother to be concerned for me if I were just another random girl.
He raised an eyebrow at me before pulling the tall wooden stool beside me and took a seat. From the corner of my eye, I saw his hair was slightly damp from the pelting snow. He was only wearing a simple brown wooly sweater to fend for himself in the cold and yet he looked warmer than I did.
But that was not what caught my interest. It was the bruised knuckles that did.
I couldn’t help but shrink away slightly at that sight and he noticed. Before I could avert my gaze, he saw my eyes staring at his knuckles and he quickly shoved his left hand into his jeans pocket and continued drinking. Somehow, that action calmed me down and assuages my minuscule fear.
My eyes trailed up back to his face and I saw him looking at me with a thoughtful expression. I felt my cheeks warm up in embarrassment, feeling like I had been caught doing something wrong.
“So why are you here at two in the morning looking like your dad lost his elections?”
I choked on coffee before coughing slightly. Staring at him in wonder, I swallowed the coffee and took a napkin to wipe my mouth.
“I suddenly had a craving for coffee, that’s all.”
“So you got knocked up?”
Once again, I choked but this time it was because of the bizarreness of his question.
Did I look like a contestant of 16 and Pregnant?
“Um, no? Why do you ask?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just rare to see one of the Evans in the local café instead of the overpriced coffee store at the end of the street.”
I shrugged dismissively at that, although my heart was pounding so loudly I was surprised that he can’t hear it.
“It’s too expensive and the coffee here is much better to be frank. Starbucks is overrated anyways.”
“Will you look at that? Barlow’s own Beauty and The Beast share something in common,” he said in an amused tone, not sounding bitter at all.
I chuckled at his words and shook my head at his dry humor.
“What are you doing here at two in the morning?”
“I needed my caffeine fix before I go to bed. For some reason, coffee makes me sleepy.”
I laughed at his confession and just like that, we both fell into an easy conversation with one another, not at all bothered at the fact that we were two very different people from two extremely different worlds.
-
“Well, personally I’m just surprised that the new playground does not have iPads and computers. Kids nowadays can’t appreciate outdoors like we used to.”
I burst out another fit of laughter, cupping my mouth so I don’t wake up the whole town or something. Shaking my head, I drank the last of my coffee before putting the mug down with a smile.
“Well, that’s a wrap for today, I’ve got to go. It’s like close to three and I have a crazy day tomo- well, today,” I corrected as shrug into my coat. I bid him goodbye with a heavy heart, knowing that this would probably be the last time we ever speak to one another.
“Will I see you here again tomorrow?”
My fingers gripped the handle of the door slightly tighter at his words, shocked that he actually wanted to talk to me.
Doubt slithered its way through, thinking of the possibility of him talking to me because of my father but I pushed down that thought. Not once in our conversation had he hinted or showed signs of having an ulterior motive.
Besides, I can’t deny the fact that I was practically squealing on the inside at the thought of meeting him again tomorrow, making this our little secret. It felt like I had a stampede in my stomach and my heart was fluttering about in my chest.
For the first time since awhile, I was looking forward to something again.
“Look, if it’s a no, that’s okay. I was just aski-“
I cut him off right there, panicking for a moment that he’d completely change his mind and rushed out my response.
“It’s a maybe. No promises but I’m not bailing either,” Glancing at my watch, my eyes widened slightly at the time. Three fifteen a.m.
“I have to go now. Good night, Derrick.”
-
a/n: hi guys, so this is the first chapter of caffeine. do tell me what do you think of Rayla and Derrick or about the chapter in general. i would love to hear some feedback. oh, and feel free to send me covers or banners or songs that you think fit this chapter/book :)
have a nice day everyone!
ps: gorgeous elle fanning at the side woop woop