Something I’m writing called bitter coffee not finished
### Espresso, iced mocha, pumpkin spice and cortado
Espresso, iced mocha, pumpkin spice, and cortado. These four enchanting words weave their way into my mind, etching their presence into my mine like permanent ink. Day after day, I find myself eagerly anticipating their arrival, knowing they will grace my ears just moments before closing time. The rhythmic routine of tidying up the chairs and reorganizing the bookshelves serves as a backdrop to my gaze, which instinctively drifts towards a huddle of students. Their animated voices intertwine with the aroma of coffee that envelops them, stirring a mysterious curiosity within me. While their names remain a secret, the palpable warmth of their camaraderie beckons my longing to join their circle, to immerse myself in their lively discussions. It feels as though destiny is teasing me, daring me to keep the doors open a little longer, just to bask in the captivating atmosphere they create."
"With intrigue and hushed excitement, I gather the courage to speak softly, suggesting, 'May I keep the cafe open a tad longer?' My words hang in the air, respectful of their animated conversation. The anticipation swells between us as their glances exchange, considering my proposal. Their response could range from enthusiastic agreement, urging me to extend our closing hours, to polite gratitude, assuring me that it's unnecessary. Eagerly, I await their decision, my mind playing through every possible scenario that could unfold. For weeks, perhaps even months, I have been building the courage to ask, always holding back out of fear of disrupting the delicate painting that unfolds before my eyes."
"With bated breath, I await their response, my heart pounding in my chest. The possibilities race through my mind, imagining the potential outcomes. For so long, the fear of shattering this perfect painting has kept me silent. But in this moment, fueled by an exhilarating surge of bravery, I dare to propose the possibility of extending our time together. Will they accept, urging me to keep the doors open and granting me the chance to immerse myself in their captivating world? Or will they kindly decline, assuring me that it is unnecessary, leaving me with the bittersweet taste of a missed opportunity? The outcome remains a mystery, but the anticipation of their response keeps my hopes alive."
"Not only do they say yes, but they extend an invitation for me to join them. A rush of joy and excitement floods over me as I accept their gracious offer with a grateful smile. Casting aside my cleaning duties, I approach their table, feeling a sense of belonging and anticipation. They create a space for me to sit, inviting me into their circle of friendship. As I settle in, conversation seamlessly weaves around the topics of books, life, and dreams. Time slips away as we share stories, laughter, and the warmth of companionship. In this moment, I realize that my fear of disrupting the atmosphere was unfounded. I have become a part of something beautiful, a living artwork that continues to unravel before my very eyes."
The first of the group addresses me, a man I affectionately call "Iced Mocha." He is the loudest of the bunch, his voice ringing through the air, captivating everyone with his animated gestures and cheesy expressions. His posh accent adds a touch of charm to his words, paired with dramatic mannerisms that somehow make him endearing.
As Benny continues to engage in the conversation, his charismatic presence fills the air. I couldn't help but notice his distinct appearance—an embodiment of old money with his blonde hair and elegant attire. It's as if he stepped out of a classic novel, exuding a refined aura that harkens back to a bygone era. His refined taste in fashion and his effortless grace lend him an undeniable air of sophistication. It's intriguing how his appearance aligns with his posh accent, creating an intriguing blend of charm and allure. “I’m just going to get a book from the shelf like the intellectual i am” Benny exclaims loudly before strutting over to the kids followed by laughter and whoops from the group before he goes and sits on the beanbags and starts reading Clifford the big red dog.
“Such an intellectual” Cortado (fleance) teases in a. blunt sarcasm drawing my mind and attention to him. He is handsome man sporting a trench coat navy stitching, he holds an aura of mystery that piques my curiosity. Fleance possesses an enigmatic presence, like a lingering shadow that subtly captures one's attention. His dark, tousled hair matches the intensity of his gaze, which holds an element of both depth and contemplation. There is an undeniable air of quiet confidence that surrounds him, as if he carries a secret world within. Fleance's reserved nature only adds to his allure, creating an aura of intrigue that beckons exploration. It becomes clear that there are depths to this individual that I am eager to understand.
I can't help but notice that Fleance's gaze subtly shifts towards me from time to time. There is an air of secrecy in his eyes, as if he harbors thoughts that he wishes to keep hidden. The glances are fleeting, yet filled with an intensity that is hard to ignore. I find myself wondering what might be going on in his mind, what secrets or mysteries he may be guarding. The curiosity begins to take hold, leaving me intrigued and captivated by Fleance's enigmatic gaze. It sparks a silent connection, a subtle understanding look, the kind of look that tells 1000 words and nothing at all before picking up his book, a copy battered, Song of achilles so worn and loved i can tell how many times he’s read it.
"As the evening unfolds, my attention is immediately drawn to two captivating figures seated opposite me. Pumpkin Spice, or Clara, exudes an air of quiet confidence with her striking blonde wolf cut and kind, brown doe eyes. Her thoughtful gaze hints at a depth of wisdom unshared. On the other hand, Espresso, or Lexy, commands attention with her vibrant red hair, a reflection of her free-spirited nature. Her expressive gestures mirror Benny, wafting her hands about as she shares her stories.
Side by side, Clara and Lexy lean towards each other with magnetic attraction, engrossed in a conversation that weaves a tapestry of stories and experiences. Their glances exchange curiosity and genuine interest, and with every word spoken, their connection grows stronger, unlocking hidden worlds within each other.
Their topics range from mundane details to profound moments that shaped their lives. Clara recounts tales of wandering through bustling city streets, stumbling upon hidden gems. Her voice carries a quiet excitement, knowing that life's greatest adventures often lie in the simplest of moments.
On the other hand, Lexy shares vibrant escapades - chasing sunsets on remote beaches, dancing under moonlit skies, and embracing the thrill of new experiences. Her eyes sparkle with a zeal for life, and her words, laced with contagious enthusiasm, draw everyone in. Lexy's boldness inspires Clara to break out of her reserved nature and take up more space in the conversation, while Clara's introspection encourages Lexy to delve deeper into the meaning behind her adventures.
As their conversation flows effortlessly, each story building upon the next, an intricate tapestry of experiences and emotions unfolds. Clara's gentle voice weaves intricate details, painting vivid pictures of the world around her. Lexy's animated storytelling, with colorful descriptions and lively gestures, brings her tales to life, as if a way to open herself up and be more vulnerable.
Clara's empathetic nature provides a safe space for Lexy to express her vulnerabilities, while Lexy's infectious optimism uplifts Clara during moments of doubt.
Listening to their exchange, I am drawn into their energy and the magnetic connection they share. The solace and support they find in each other's presence are palpable, tempting me to chime in, eager to contribute to the lively atmosphere without intruding.
As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the world with a warm, golden hue, the café lingers open, defying time's usual rules. Captivated by the company we share, we remain seated, caught in a sweet trance of connection. It feels as though we exist within a bubble, silently bursting as we exchange contact information.
Benny, our ever-charming social facilitator, breaks the silence with a proposition, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, "How about chilling at my place tomorrow after class, and after ur last shift Jamie?" Jamie? well that’s knew i think quietly to myself as Lexy playfully interjects, her tone infused with playful banter , " Yeah sure thing, pretty boy." Clara follows suit, her voice carrying a melodic note of agreement, "Count me in too!" Turning to James and Fleance, a hint of anticipation colors her words, "And what about you two? Care to join?"
Before I can utter a response, Fleance's raspy, trembling voice slices through the air, at first i think it mimics his tone with Benny in teasing. But this is different stirring a delightful shiver within me. "I can pick him up if that's alright," he offers, his words leaving me brimming with excitement and a touch of vulnerability. "Yeah," I reply eagerly, perhaps a tad too quickly, my anticipation evident in the response. "Sounds great."
With our plans set in motion, we finally rise from our seats, bidding farewell to the café that unknowingly transformed into a sanctuary, enveloping us within moments of connection and shared memories. A bittersweet ache tugs at my heart as I stroll outside, becoming enveloped in the cold, crisp darkness. The glow of streetlights cuts through, illuminating the night as I flag down a cab to take me home.
“Goodnight everyone, tonight was like my favorite day ever, so thank you for including me,” I say, my voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
“No problem!” Benny exclaims, his smile stretching from ear to ear as he hops into his car.
“I regret not talking to you earlier," Lex chimes in, his voice soft but earnest. "You're really lovely," Clara adds, her genuine kindness shining through.
I turn to Flemont, who gives me a knowing nod, his eyes twinkling and a playful wink. "See you tomorrow," he whispers, his words filled with a sense of anticipation and friendship. “Yeah, totally,” I reply.
I step into the cab, clenching my fists, and watch the café recede into the distance. A mixture of gratitude and nostalgia washes over me. Tonight has been more than just a passing moment in time; it has become a defining chapter in my life. The connections formed, the laughter shared, and the sense of belonging experienced have left an indelible mark on my soul.
Through the warmth of their words and the genuine camaraderie, I am reminded of the power of human connection and the beauty that can arise from unexpected encounters. The ache in my heart is now tinged with a siniense of joy, knowing that I have found a place where I am understood, with people I can trust.
As the cab speeds away, I lean back and close my eyes, cherishing the memories of this perfect night. And with a renewed sense of anticipation, I look forward to what tomorrow will bring, knowing that I have found a group of friends who have welcomed me into their lives with open arms
The shrill sound of alarms fills my room, accompanied by the soft glow of morning sunlight seeping through the partially closed shutters. I slowly open my eyes, a stillness lingering in the air. With a gentle stretch and a yawn, memories from last night gradually flood my mind. Fleance's gaze, warm and reassuring. Benny's infectious laughter, filling the room with joy. And the captivating tales Clara and Lexy shared, their eyes sparkling with excitement as they spoke.
Renewed by the memories, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and plant my feet firmly on the cool, wooden floor. Determination courses through my veins, propelling me forward.
In the bathroom, I splash my face with icy water, feeling its touch awaken my senses. The mirror reflects back at me, revealing traces of the lingering smile on my lips - a testament to the enchanting night I experienced.
Freshened up and ready for the day, I make my way to the café. As I enter, the quiet stillness contrasts with the vibrant atmosphere that filled the room the night before. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeates the air, wrapping me in a comforting embrace. With a grateful smile, I carefully cradle a warm cup of coffee, allowing its energy to seep into my bones.
On the table, a random page of "The Song of Achilles" lays open, a reminder of the ethereal night spent with friends. Tonight, I will give it to him,
