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She was trying to be discreet, she really was.
After all, she had things to occupy herself with, and looking up occasionally should be normal, right? Nothing wrong about that.
When she turned her head and found Impa smiling knowingly at her, Zelda realized she might’ve been more obvious than she would’ve liked.
“You’re being extremely obvious, you know, and also kinda creepy,” Impa said, as if reading her mind and choosing the right words to rub salt on the open wound. Consciously forcing herself to not glance at the table out of second nature, Zelda decided to instead focus on the syrup this macchiato was supposed to have.
Impa didn’t say another word until Zelda was done calling a client to pick up their drink. For a second, she thought that was going to be it—words to give her a jab and nothing more. But then, to make things worse, Impa placed a hand on her shoulder in such a way that moving away from the counter would be more difficult than usual.
She could’ve moved, squirmed away if she wanted to, but Impa began talking before she could think about moving a muscle.
“Why don’t you go over there,” Impa started as she nodded towards the cursed table, “and talk to him?”
Her mind immediately screamed ‘No!’
“I can’t,” her mouth mumbled instead, keeping her inner panic inside, much to her relief. Sure, it would be nice and her heart always skipped a beat at the idea, both in joy and out of nerves, but Zelda lacked the courage to do it. Even if she somehow managed, she’d have to find a way to start a conversation with him and her eloquence could betray her; it was very rare, extremely, but the possibility existed.
That small possibility made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Now more than ever she wished the café was busier; it’d give her chores to do, things to focus on instead of hopelessly looking at someone, expecting… something and nothing, both at the same time.
It’d take a miracle from Hylia for him to approach first, and a miracle from the golden goddesses combined for Zelda to do it. With a sigh, she began unnecessarily rearranging the cups and napkins just as Impa let go of her.
“Why not?”
“He’s–” Zelda glanced at Link, the cafe’s regular, at his table (it wasn’t really his, but he always sat there without fail, so she personally dubbed it as such) typing away on his laptop. “He’s… busy.”
“And you’re not. Come on, Zel, I’ve seen the way he looks at you!” In spite of her more cheerful tone, Impa refrained from touching her this time. Zelda scoffed, shaking her head and chuckling at the idea—it couldn’t be; if Link looked at her that way, then she would’ve spotted it.
Obviously.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed movement; Link was putting his things away and standing up. He also picked up his mug and began walking towards the counter.
Towards her.
Suddenly, she also noticed Impa was back as a cashier; her friend had sneakily moved away to leave Zelda alone.
Great.
Zelda gulped a second before Link left his mug on the counter, flashed that goddess-blessed cute smile of his, waved and left. She could swear she felt her heart thump against her ribcage.
She somehow waved back despite the napkin in her hand. Only when he had exited through the door did she let out the breath she’d been holding. Why, oh why, did he make her system react like this? It wasn’t healthy. It was nice—because whenever it happened it meant he had acknowledged her somehow—but still unhealthy.
But also very nice.
Link was nice, and handsome, and polite, and those electric blue eyes of his were–
“Hey, I’m all for fairytales, princess,” Impa snapped Zelda back to reality as she handed her a plastic cup, “but focus on the iced latte instead of your knight in shining armor for now, please.”
Zelda pursed her lips, but complied anyway.
“Here’s your refill.”
Zelda placed the mug on the counter, filled precisely to the brim with Link’s drink of choice. He mouthed a quick “thanks” before taking his coffee back to his table and resuming his book.
If she could only get a good look at what he was reading…
She was a bookworm herself, spending part of her free time with her head buried in both books and articles. Often her friends teased her because she refused to read fiction, but it was just… not her thing. However, she’d be willing to give it a real chance if it meant understanding Link and his tastes a little better, in the case he was reading any form of fiction in the first place.
Going back to attend to other clients, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. Her prayers had been answered and the café was busier than usual, all tables were occupied and there was a considerable line. Unintelligible chatter filled the place, overriding the background music that Impa had chosen.
It was a good day, especially for this early on a Monday.
The orders, the people, everything made all and any exhaustion she had from studying up until late disappear as she made sure to keep with the pace demanded of her. Impa was rearranging some things at the back, so it would only be a few minutes before Zelda’s overload of tasks dwindled.
Her cheeks hurt, her picture-perfect smile was faltering, but she’d have to sacrifice that if she wanted to keep her mind on the drinks. Fortunately, the clientele didn’t seem to mind.
Some clients left happy while others were lightning quick to grab a table the second one was free, not caring if there were still dishes there—ones she had to take care of somehow. It would've been entertaining to watch the whole thing unfold if she hadn’t been so occupied.
Right on cue, just as Zelda called for two clients, Impa walked over to help her with some of the drinks.
“Sorry for the delay,” she said and Zelda simply nodded. After a few seconds, Impa then added, “Link just left.”
“And you’re telling me this, why?” she asked, registering another order. Impa chuckled and Zelda didn’t have to think too hard to imagine the grin on her face.
“Care to bus his table? Oh, and the others, too.”
Zelda rolled her eyes, but grabbed the towel and the spray anyway, making her way around the counter to finally take care of those tables. Link was indeed gone and like he did on occasion (she didn’t know why), he’d taken the mug to the bus bin, so his table should’ve been empty.
It should’ve, but it wasn’t.
Two people were standing there, hoarding the table with their coffees in hand while staring at the forgotten book. Her instincts kicked in and she went over as quickly and normally as she could to retrieve the book and tuck it under her arm. Once that was safe, she cleaned the surface.
“I’m sorry, he must’ve forgotten this,” she said. The pair was nice, smiling and sitting down while thanking her. Zelda took care of the other tables with clients a little more impatient, though she forcefully kept a smile on her face, and finally went back behind the bar. Impa seemed to be handling everything just fine, so Zelda took the liberty of giving the book a proper look.
A green cover with dark green decorations, with the title in bold yellow: Chef Aurie Taamu, Vol. 1
A… cook-book? From all the possibilities she had considered, a cook-book was the last thing she expected from Link, but she wasn’t one to judge. If anything, it was a nice surprise, a side of him she didn’t know.
While she wasn't a cooking expert or enthusiast, she did enjoy making her own stuff from time to time.
“What is that?” Impa asked from somewhere behind Zelda, the latter giving it one last good look before placing it on a clean counter where it’d be safe. Hylia forbid Zelda ever got a book sullied with something, especially one that didn’t belong to her.
“A book. Link will probably come back once he realizes he left it,” Zelda replied simply and washed her hands before working on the remaining drinks, which were far less than before. Impa simply hummed in acknowledgement and although Zelda attempted to fall back into a perfect work rhythm, the image of the book had stayed printed on her mind. It was akin to the reddening mark on skin after leaning somewhere for too long, and it raised countless questions, countless topics, she wanted to ask him about.
If only she could.
The difference of activity at the café between morning and noon was astonishing.
Impa had left already, having wished Zelda good luck, and it worked—she was now leisurely sweeping the floor. There was only one other person in the room, a girl seemingly studying. The music matched the atmosphere, calm and cozy; it’d go perfectly with a drizzle outside, with the café offering the kind of warmth that made your eyelids heavy.
She would have welcomed the stillness with pleasure, if the book wasn’t on the counter.
Hours had gone by and Link was nowhere to be found.
Looking at the door for a moment, as if that would make him magically appear, Zelda sighed, one finger tapping against the handle of the broom as her eyes settled on the collection of recipes again. The book was there, taunting and tempting her by doing absolutely nothing except existing within her line of sight.
Zelda bit the inside of her cheek as she approached the table, leaving the broom aside.
She shouldn’t. It wasn’t hers and she had no permission.
A peek wouldn’t hurt.
It was a mystery—what kind of recipes he might be learning, if he was the kind to make annotations on books or not, if she’d somehow misunderstood what the book actually was.
A peek won’t hurt. Just a peek. A glimpse and nothing more.
Using the table as support to lean against, she picked up the book and opened it carefully. Perhaps too carefully, as if it would turn into dust and slip through her fingers at any given moment. Zelda made sure not to open it more than 90 degrees, grabbed only the corners as she passed each page and she had a steady grip on it.
The author’s foreword was interesting. He liked to go to bed early, like her on normal days, but he was afraid of insects, which was something she couldn’t even begin to fathom. Getting past the explanation of his motivation about the practical use of his version of the recipes, she found the first one.
Carrot stew, but… instead of normal butter, it used–
She suddenly heard a cough.
Raising her gaze, she set eyes on a customer waiting for her. With a whispered curse to herself, she left the book and got to attending her seemingly exasperated client.
Zelda continued reading the recipes the next day, even while she covered Impa’s shift.
She didn’t blame herself—they were interesting takes and ones she’d be willing to try out, especially the Fruitcake one. Some recipes she didn’t know but seemed just as delicious while others she did know but had slight changes to them.
It was easy to understand why someone would be interested in giving the book a chance.
The café had a couple of people, but there was no one to attend to currently, so Zelda figured she might as well continue now that she had the chance.
She’d gotten to the skewers section after what felt like minutes when she looked up to check on the café, and found Link patiently waiting by the cash register.
Zelda could swear a lump formed in her throat the second the sight registered in her head but managed to somehow gulp it down and walk over to him with his book in her hand. Goddesses…
She handed it over, apologies that she couldn’t voice written all over her face.
“So this is where I left it…” he said as he retrieved the book from her. Their fingers grazed for a split second but they both soon pulled away.
“I… I have to be honest, I skimmed through it a little,” she admitted, her nervous smile painful on the cheeks. Zelda then turned around to get working on his usual. How was she talking? Who had possessed her? Maybe it was a combination of making coffee and talking about books, but thank Hylia she was facing away now. “Seems like it has good recipes, and a variety of them, too.”
“Oh, yeah. It has some of my favorites,” he commented and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. That and the little coincidence made her smile softly to herself.
“Really? It has my favorite dessert, too. Fruitcake.” And she was interested in making that iteration of the dessert as well. Hm. She should’ve written it down.
Link didn’t reply immediately and she turned around to see what he was doing, only to find that he was looking down at the book in his hand, a pensive look in his face accompanied with a very light frown. Soon enough, he looked at her again with a softened expression.
“Why don’t you keep it?” he asked, handing the book back, way too casually.
It took Zelda a second. An hour. An eternity. She wondered if she’d heard him wrong.
“Me? Keep it?”
Not at all annoyed by her question, Link merely nodded. She avoided touching the offered book, as if it were iron right out of the fire and could burn her hands.
“I couldn’t–”
This time, he shook his head, lightly waved the book and Zelda, frankly, had no option other than to take it back.
“You can give it back to me once you’re done.” His hands were fidgeting ever so slightly now that they were empty, his voice was a little hesitant, but she was sure she heard him right this time.
Now that she could take him in properly, careful and paused, without an invisible glass display between the two of them, Link was… closer, in a way. He didn’t feel like someone far out of her reach; there were a couple of hairs out of place and his cheeks were dusted with a pleasant pink—just enough for her to notice.
It all made her more comfortable around him. If she had to guess, it was related to the fact that he seemed to be shy, too, like her. Though, he was a tad bit friendlier.
Zelda resigned to silent acceptance as she cradled the book close to her chest.
“Alright…” she smiled, and it wasn’t strained or awkward or nervous, it wasn’t like forcing it to stay on her face with tape. She finally felt like she was smiling as herself—it came naturally, like dew drops landing on water and creating gentle ripples in the waves. Being able to express her gratitude so easily spread to the rest of her body and her shoulders fell in relaxation.
Link making her heart go haywire was nice.
But this? This moment where everything blurred into background noise? This was way nicer.
He seemed satisfied and reached for his back pocket. Zelda beat him to it by shaking her head.
“It’s on me today,” she said, and before he could protest, added, “as thanks for the book.”
Link narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, most likely considering objecting, but just as quickly sighed, asked for his usual and walked away after nodding. She didn’t miss the tiny smile he was sporting.
As she left the book on the safe counter, she got to finishing his order, smiling to herself. It was like her world had brightened a bit more; every color around her seemed more vibrant, every noise in the cafe created a private song in her ears.
Too bad he’d asked it to-go. Maybe today would’ve been the day she approached his table to get to know him a little better. Giddiness was a powerful motivator, apparently, because any other day she would’ve had a hard time swallowing at the mere thought.
Another day. Another day for sure.
She placed his cup on the counter and as she was about to call his name, an idea struck her like thunder; a jolt that made her back straighten up and her eyes widen.
Of course…!
Zelda went to the counter to retrieve something, not bothering to hide her excited grin.
Link made his way to the counter the second Zelda called him for his coffee, bidding his goodbyes, but he didn’t leave before glancing at the book, safely placed on a counter where it wouldn’t be stained or damaged.
She was so thoughtful.
The idea that she had been so careful with it all this time made him feel a little happier, made his admiration for her grow a little more. Her care didn’t surprise him, really, with how poised and solemn she tended to be. Always so polite, always so reserved…
At least, that’s how she appeared to clients, but whenever he glanced at her, talking with her coworker while she was none the wiser to him looking, he caught glimpses of her smile, genuine and so, so pretty.
He smiled at the memories he had archived of her just as he took the first sip from his coffee, already on his way to college. A splotch of black on the cup made him stop for a second, bigger than his name could ever be.
Cursive—rushed yet elegant, and very legible, was on the cup.
So we can talk about the book later :)
xxx-xxx-xxx
– Zelda