𝓬𝖋𝖘𝖙𝔂𝖑𝖊 - for thirtytm written ( questionably ) by maria
cameron stewart, 31. ( logan lerman )

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@cfstyle
𝓬𝖋𝖘𝖙𝔂𝖑𝖊 - for thirtytm written ( questionably ) by maria
cameron stewart, 31. ( logan lerman )
the night at the diner was slower than a turtle in molasses and jiya was stuck working the cash register. her bubble that she'd been blowing popped against her nose as she leaned against the counter, eyes watching the crowd of maybe ten patrons in the diner. all were either elderly people that were daily customers or a family stopping through on their way to the big city. fingernails tap the metal of the register as she wait for someone to come pay, eyes wandering to her coworker, cam, who is pouring coffee to someone who walked in roughly ten minutes prior. he seemed to be flirting with the forty-something year old woman; his actions making jiya only laugh softly to herself as she made her way over with her notepad. ' is he bothering you ? i can get you anything you want. ' her new delhi accent was still thick even though she hadn't lived there in a few years. ' i got this one, cam. go work the register. '
cam is all but ready to introduce himself when he is rudely interrupted by his coworker. he rolls his eyes at her - it's what she deserves for disrupting his only chance at flow today - and then obediently pushes away from the counter he'd been leaning against to give jiya space to tend to who was now not only his but their customer. his hand finds the small of jiya's back - he's never been one to go down without at least some resemblance of a fight - and he leans in with a look of feigned seriousness as if what he's about to say next is of utmost importance. "jealous," he notes, looks at her with a small pout, and then drops his hand - resumes innocence and sips his coffee while stepping towards the register.
november had always been a relatively quiet month. not many people spent a great deal of money during said month, opting to save their cash for the following month. christmas was fast approaching and people needed to budget for it... in turn making november quiet for people like herself. people who relied on others spending their money without much thought. valentina did however know that the month of december would bring plenty of clients her way. she was sat, sketching up her latest masterpiece when she noticed the other. val's brows cocked in interest at the sight of him winking. " well, hello there. " she chuckled as she cocked her head slightly. " didn't realise me getting a coffee was an invitation for you to join me... though i suppose i can't say i mind the view all that much. " valentina all but purred at him. " your company is more exciting than sitting drawing. " @cfstyle
"hi," comes the reply, a smile to go with the nonchalant greeting tugging at the corners of his lips. he's unbothered by the notion of him inviting himself to her company, as usual - and the general response he gets is unsurprising. it's not unusual. yet, he welcomes it. it looks like he might not succumb to boredom, after all. a feigned thoughtfulness colours his expression as he pretends to consider her words, how he might have gotten too ahead of himself even though her general response proves to him that he has not. "i'm glad we're in agreement that i'm exciting," he then says, taking yet another sip of his coffee before setting the cup down onto the counter. he sets his elbow down on the counter and rests his chin on his hand, gaze briefly dropping to the aforementioned drawing before finding her's again. "what're you drawing?"
WHO : cam & open ( @30sextra ) WHERE : monroe's diner
cam leans his weight on his hand placed atop the counter, as the other half heartedly reaches for a pot of coffee to be poured into a nearly empty mug in front of one of very few customers. it’s not a busy day - it is the exact opposite. he is bored. he is all but ready to go home early, and he would have already, were it not for the fact that he so desperately needs the money. he’s been here, what, six months? and the fact feels like failure. he holds onto hope that each hour spent in this place, serving scolding hot coffee and burnt scrambled eggs to unsuspecting victims, brings him closer to something else. an apartment of his own, maybe. it’s not that he doesn’t like being around his brother - but growing up on a farm has him quite accustomed to having space. now he doesn’t, crammed into a small apartment with two other people. dark liquid spills into the cup, this offered along with a friendly wink and a hint of a smirk. he reaches behind him for a cup of his own, fills this one up as well - having decided that he needs something to keep him alive for the last couple of hours of his shift. he sets the coffee pot down, brings his cup to his lips and fixes his gaze on the customer sat on the opposite side of the counter. looks at them expectantly - wordlessly waiting for them to entertain him now that their coffee break has turned into a date. he arches an eyebrow and takes a sip.
I burn, I freeze; I am never warm. I am rigid; I forgot softness because it did not serve me.
Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless
half finished mugs of coffee. unanswered texts. stick and poke tattoos. sleeping through your alarm. sarcastic comments. rolled up sleeves. a collection of lighters. chipped nail polish. worn down sneakers. bruised knuckles and a boyish grin. flipping off the camera.
LOGAN LERMAN 2023 | via analuisacorrigan's Instagram Stories (August 19)