clementine

adelaide henderson, civillan. ❝ almost. it’s a big word for me. i feel it everywhere. almost home. almost happy. almost changed. almost, but not quite. not yet. soon, maybe. ❞ var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5637840"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "//freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1=lurking&e2=lurking&r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write("");

[bled]

[goldshame-deactivated20220216]

“we’ll figure it out together” is my love language

[adelcide]

Closing shifts were far from pleasant, especially when they were done alone. A heavy sigh rose from somewhere deep within Adelaide’s chest as she stepped out into the cool dark that waited for her just beyond the doors of the coffee shop, a trash bag slung over one shoulder. She walked it to the dumpster, heaving it over with a soft grunt and promptly wiping her hands on the front of her apron afterwards.

She began her quick trek back towards Southern Belle, but promptly stopped a few steps in. She spotted a human-shaped figure just a few feet out of reach, their form illuminated by a nearby streetlamp. She paused, silently studying them for a moment as the damp and faded page of a newspaper danced across the pavement. Adelaide weighed her options, trying to decide if approaching a lone stranger in the middle of the night was worth the risk of being mugged.

Taking a couple of tentative steps in their direction, Adelaide noted their less than favorable appearance. “You alright?” She called out, her desire to help outweighing her better judgment. Concern etched itself into delicate features, Adelaide shrinking the once safe space between them, placing a small hand on their shoulder with a tender touch. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not looking too hot.”

[adelcide]

sibelerdogan‌:

Sibel usually was a patient person, not bothered by waiting or tardiness, but there was something about today that was different. Maybe it was the lack of sleep from the last week or the fact that she hadn’t got any coffee yet. Whatever it was, it came to the surface with an annoyed sigh. “Some of us don’t have all day,” she finally said as the person in front of her had been chatting with the barista for too long.

Adelaide would never understand the logic behind hitting on a woman while she was at work. Fake smiles and candy-coated niceties weren’t synonymous with genuine interest, despite what the occasional sleaze seemed to believe. 

The man leaning heavily against the counter and doing his best to encroach upon the blonde’s space had been prodding at her for the past ten minutes, holding up the line while he tried and failed miserably to obtain her number. Adelaide’s patience had begun to wear thin, momentarily entertaining the idea of dropping her seemingly pleasant and unbothered demeanor to tell him where exactly she’d be shoving her foot if his harassment continued for another minute. 

The comment snapped both Adelaide and her current pest to attention, both of their gazes landing on a visibly annoyed brunette. She watched as the man slumped and shuffled away, a scowl carved into his features as he retreated from the rather awkward spotlight. “Sorry about the wait.” An audible sigh of relief escaped her, the barista flashing her an apologetic smile. “What can I get started for you?”

[velouriawrites]

Sydney Sweeney for The Last Magazine

[ssweeneys]