Chapter Text
Viotet.
I look at the clock on the wall. It's almost time for the cafeteria where I work as a waitress to close. Thank goodness.
Today I'm exhausted and I want to go home soon. I'm planning on taking a long bath to relieve my joints that are killing me today. I think today I'll have to use the strong medicine I keep in my nightstand for days like these.
I sigh in resignation. Nothing to do, I tell myself. My body is like this and I have to keep going.
I'm cleaning the last tables on the small terrace that faces the avenue, hidden by the shade of the parasols that I also have to close next and with this I can finish my shift, lock the door and walk to my apartment that is a couple of blocks from here. The other environment of the cafeteria, the one inside with closed doors, is already ready.
That's the good thing about finding a part-time job close to home. I can enjoy a walk on the empty sidewalk, free of pedestrians, under the beautiful and leafy spring trees that cover the path with petals of multicoloured flowers that are in full bloom, while the solitude and silence of the city about to go to sleep accompanies me.
I stop a little because my body asks me to and I sit on one of the chairs to give my ankles a short rest. I really need it.
Like every Monday, today is a slow day and there are not many people on the street, I'm sure everyone is already at home. A few minutes ago the last customer left, which has allowed me to get ahead on work. Today I had to close the shop alone. Again. My idiot boss may be an abuser in this sense, because he leaves me closing most days without anyone's help, when he knows that my joints complain more than usual, but it is evident that he does not care, because he is not even capable of putting a chair upside down on the table to relieve my work when he leaves, much earlier than I do by the way. Yes, he's an idiot, but he pays well. That's why I'm still here.
I go back inside, put away the hygiene supplies, wash my hands and hang the kitchen apron.
I go to the kitchen and take the piece of chocolate cake that I reserved from my snack so I can enjoy it in the comfort of my sofa. I must admit that the cake in this café is the best in the city.
I have turned off all the lights and turned the sign to indicate that it is already closed.
I leave the premises juggling my busy hands, one holding the plate of cake covered with a napkin, in the other my purse and the set of keys to close the café.
It got dark a while ago. The sky is starry but it can't be seen with the large amount of light in the city and it's a shame. The good thing is that a constant fresh breeze impregnated with the charming smell of the flowers that decorate the gardens of the central strip of the avenue perfumes the whole place and at this time it is very pleasant to stay a while here on the terrace enveloped in all these exquisite sensations where the reigning silence of a day that ends is only interrupted by the occasional vehicles that go from one side or the other of the street. That and the two people who just started arguing right in front of the cafeteria there on the street in front of the exit hallway. Three meters away from me.
How lucky I am, I think sarcastically, just when I want to leave I am later delayed by this.
They are blocking the way. I can't leave without passing between the two of them, so I am left there, next to the almost closed door, like an unexpected spectator and in the front row, waiting for them to go on their way.
But they don't. They stay there.
It's a couple.
It's obviously a fight between lovers because of the way they move in front of each other.
The boy raises his hands in an obvious gesture of disagreement, exasperation, irritation, defeat and tiredness, all at the same time, of a fight that, apparently, has been going on for a long time, and that he knows he doesn't want or need to fight because he knows he's not going to win. Even if he's right.
He turns around looking at any part of the sky, as if looking for answers that don't come, takes a breath and continues arguing with her while running his fingers through his hair in an act of nervousness that I'm sure he does without realizing it.
She doesn't change her attitude.
Now, I don't hear anything but her posture says it all. That she has the upper hand. She has all the power in this discussion. Her shoulders straight, her back straight, her arms crossed over her breasts and the kilometer-long cleavage between them, her contemptuous look and her smile, enjoying the moment... it's obvious that she's a bitch. She says something to him in whispers while her eyes turn into small slits and he... turns pale. The boy has dark skin from what I can make out under the intricate tattoo that peeks out on his neck, but it's clear that the blood has left his face.
-You can't ask me to do that, Cat! Understand once and for all. That's not negotiable! - I hear the boy suddenly yell at the girl in front of him, immersed in a duel of angry glances and frowns as if they could throw daggers with their eyes. I see how his fists open and close, containing his anger even though his feet don't move from their place. He's nailed to the floor. She remains firm in front of him, unfazed.
And I'm still here at the door with the key in my hand about to put it in the slot just a few steps away from them.
I keep absolute silence and don't move. I don't want them to see me. My eyes go from one to the other like in a tennis match. It's obvious that they think they're alone, arguing about whatever, without stopping to look defiantly at each other, to the point of yelling at each other because there's no one else on the street.
This is very uncomfortable. It's not nice to see a couple break up, or fight, or whatever this is. I'm not a voyeur. I didn't ask to be in the middle of this.
But here I am. And I have my cell phone within reach of my fingers in case this gets out of hand and they go from yelling to hitting. The guy is holding back, it's obvious. But as much of a bitch as she may be, that doesn't justify a guy hitting her. And I think he's not lacking in desire if the rise and fall of his heaving shoulders is any indication.
The girl, tall and slender, with long black hair and very white skin, made up to the max and elegantly dressed in stunning red heels to match her sexy dress, doesn't flinch at his words. On the contrary, I think they breathe fire and anger into her. She puts her hands on her hips, and leans a little closer to him and answers in a destructive tone of silent anger and... fun?
-Honey - she says ironically to him - If you don't do it, you'll lose more than the contract with my uncle. No one will give you another chance like that, idiot!
-No, Cat. Damn it, I won't!
The boy, even taller than her and handsome, with a solid back and dressed in a beautiful tailored suit, which accentuates his back and the muscles of his arms, whose tie he evidently untied a while ago and hangs messily around his neck, looks at her perplexed. His face no longer reflects anything. He just looks at her. In silence. And breathes. And looks at her.
I think he's been dealt a low blow and is in shock.
-You know I'm right, you have no choice, honey - she continues, gloating with pleasure on his face - Don't waste any more time arguing with me. See you at the altar.
He remains silent, seething with rage. Because it seems that the argument is over and she has won, because she decided so. She waves goodbye to him as if nothing had happened, blows him a kiss and turns towards the edge of the avenue, stops a taxi that conveniently passed by and drives away in it.
The boy remains frozen in place watching her drive away in the taxi and when the vehicle turns the corner and disappears, the boy lets out a roar of frustration with his jaw clenched and I think he is going to break his teeth and smash some glass with the roar of his cry of liberation. His rage does not ease. He looks down and finds an empty beer can. With another roar and a couple of curses he kicks it furiously, throwing it beyond the central reservation, tumbling until it is lost among the flowers. It does not calm him down either. He turns around, grabs some decorative flowers that line our terrace and pulls them out one after another, without mercy, throws them hard to the floor, sending clods flying everywhere on the ground, and then kicks them too. He turns around again to look for something else to throw and sees one of the tables on the terrace of my cafeteria, he goes over to a chair, grabs it, and when I think he is going to throw it into the air to continue unleashing his uncontrolled fit of rage, he turns it hard and carelessly and… collapses on it. He sits down. First upright, running his hands through his hair until crossing them behind his head as he exhales a long sigh with his eyes closed, and then he hunches forward, with his shoulders completely drooping, with his legs open and his elbows on them, finally hiding his face in his hands. It is as if he has no more energy left to remain standing. Like a toy that has run out of string.
He is the faithful and cruel representation of anguish made man.
When I think he's not going to throw any more things and I see that he doesn't move from his spot, I don't know why but I slowly approach him from the side as if he were a wounded animal that might bite, and I put the plate with chocolate cake very carefully so as not to make noise on the table in front of him and I offer it to him. Strangely enough, he doesn't scare me. And something in the back of my head screams at me that I should fear him and run in the opposite direction. But I can't. Seeing this tall, big man being reduced to a miserable, small person in a few seconds moves me and pulls me towards him.
Hi, I don't want to bother you, but I think you need this more than I do, I tell him delicately and almost in a whisper so as not to startle him when I place the plate in front of him.
He jumps anyway and looks at me suddenly, in surprise. Like a cornered animal. His face is a sea of different feelings: confusion, rage, surprise, anguish and... devastation. And his eyes, his beautiful eyes that I can now see and discover are onyx-colored, look at me, shining, with some tears about to overflow.
Oh! My heart breaks into a thousand pieces when I see this tall, beautiful, unknown man and his palpable pain. It's obvious that he's suffering from whatever he argued with his girlfriend about.
I don't think he's capable of speaking at this minute. I look at him with understanding and without thinking I take one of his hands and press it gently in a gesture of comfort. He doesn't even remove his hand. He just looks dazed at both hands together. I can't help but notice the contrast between his dark skin and my light one. Nothing that matters. And yet, a faithful reflection of our unknown realities intertwined by the whims of fate. As quickly as I took it and without stopping looking at his face, I give him a slight smile of encouragement, let go and quickly go back inside to get two forks and napkins. And a glass of water.
When I come back and sit in front of him with both forks in front of his face for him to choose one, he is still where I left him, unfazed and doesn't know where to look: at my face, the cake or the forks and the glass of water. Confusion wins over the other feelings on his cute, anguished face until he manages to clear his throat and stammer a question.
Where did you come from..?
Oh, poor thing. He is still in shock.
"I am your wish fairy and I have come to rescue you..." I joke trying to cheer him up, but apparently he doesn't like it, because he is still there looking at me. For God's sake, what am I saying? Given his silence and that he still doesn't move, I turn red as a tomato, I take one of the forks and take out a piece of cake and bring it to my mouth. I can't help but gasp in pleasure at the feeling of this sweet thing in my mouth that makes me forget all the pain in my body for a moment, and also, because it's better to stay quiet than to put my feet in all the way. Earth swallow me…
“Please, try a little so I don't feel so stupid, will you?” I say with a new and innocent smile while I give the fork a brief lick so as not to lose any crumbs of the exquisite cake in front of us and take out another piece. It really is good, very very good. I mean the cake. Also.
“Do you have gold flecks in your eyes? They're very cute” I chatter and chatter when I'm nervous. This situation made me nervous. His scrutiny of my face has me nervous. Pleasantly nervous.
He still doesn't answer me anything. He just sits there looking at me. I don't know why I got nervous in front of him, but it makes me talk and say meaningless things without thinking...
The boy looks away at last, as if he had been in a trance and has returned to reality, trying to recognize where he is, and he tries to get up, but my hand flies to his of its own free will and I hold him for a brief second - Please, don't go yet. Seriously, this cake relieves pain and we both need it. I tell you this from experience. Well, I think you need it more than me right now, but seriously, try it, eat a little and then leave, okay? - What am I doing? Am I begging a guy I don't know, who may very well be crazy, to stay and eat cake with me? What's wrong with me?
Ok, yes, that's what I did and I don't know why. I think his onyx eyes with golden flecks, full of sadness, have hypnotized me and without thinking I'm doing everything I can to comfort him and get him out of the darkness he's in right now... I've never done anything like this before, but this boy... I don't know... my body rules itself, it doesn't obey me, and my heart just wants to feel that he's okay. And right now he's not.
Please? Can you stay? I promise I'll keep quiet if you need me to, but have a piece with me, okay? - Am I begging? Yes, yes I am. This is begging, silly girl, what's wrong with you, for God's sake.
To my great surprise, he sits back down, runs both hands over his face - to secretly wipe away his tears? - slowly picks up the fork, looks at it from both sides, and then sticks it into the end of the chocolate cake. He takes out a large piece and brings it to his mouth - such beautiful, kissable lips, I watch with my heart racing as they slide over the fork - he closes his eyes as he savors and chews, as if the cake manages to untie the knot that seems to be stuck in his throat. He keeps his eyes closed as he chews and savors it. A brief moment passes until he finally swallows it…
He takes another piece, without taking his eyes off her, and repeats the process. And then another. When he's already on the eighth bite, he settles back in his chair and finally looks at me. The sadness in his eyes has been replaced by curiosity and something else I can't quite put my finger on. I also notice that his posture has improved and he doesn't look so defeated anymore. I think I've managed to cheer him up a bit, and that makes my heart skip a beat. Do I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach?
"So, what's the verdict? Did you like it?" - I ask him, staring into his beautiful, melancholic gaze as I cross my hands in front of me. I've already eaten my last bite. All that's left on the plate is a bite of half of it.
"Don't you have any more?" he asks me very seriously. And it makes me laugh.
"Ha! I knew you'd like it," I point at him with my empty fork. "Do you want another bit? It's never enough. It really is very good, isn't it?" I answer happily as I stand up and head back inside.
"Where are you going?" He asks me while following me with his eyes.
-Just wait and see.
I take out my keys, open the cafeteria again and rush to the kitchen refrigerator, where a third of what's left of the big cake awaits me. I take out another piece, well two pieces, and take them quickly, mentally crossing my fingers that the boy is still in the chair and hasn't left. I could do that if I wanted to. If I was in his mood I would have left... but there's nothing like the expectation of continuing to enjoy a delicious chocolate cake to leave you nailed to a chair. When I cross the threshold of the front door he's still there, waiting for me and I can't help the smile that appears on my face. Why am I suddenly so happy?
-Oh, oh... you were serious! - he exclaims surprised and with a slight smile appearing on the corner of his mouth and with that I confirm that it's worth stealing what's left of the cake if we can light up his beautiful face like that. My heart skips another beat. What's wrong with me? I feel above the clouds.
-Happy to help, I reply in return.- now a comfortable silence settles between us, strangers, only interrupted by the sound of the fork scraping against the ceramic plate and this cake has somehow made us connect as if we had known each other for a lifetime. We look into each other's eyes as each takes a new bite and brings it to their mouth.
I hear him emit a slight moan of pleasure at its taste... and that makes me melt deep, deep inside.
I don't know how much time has passed, but he finally finishes his cake and licks every last crumb off his fork.
-How much did you hear? he asks me suddenly, very seriously, as he folds his hands on his lap and leans back on the back of the chair waiting for my answer.
-How much is a lot for you? I reply in return.
He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then looks down at the floor and I think I hear him say a curse under his breath. Unconsciously he brings a hand to his head and runs his fingers through his hair, again. He's nervous.
“You shouldn't have witnessed any of that...” - he says to me, embarrassed? I don't know because right now I can't see his face covered by the darkness of the night.
- Actually, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, but I was already leaving and you were in the middle of the hallway blocking the way and... well... I can imagine how you feel... and the cake... it really helps when there's pain... and...
“Thank you” he interrupts me, gets up and leaves. Without saying goodbye, without looking at me. Nothing.
And now I'm the one left without understanding anything. There. Sitting alone, in front of the empty plate and the scattering of plants and clods of earth scattered all over the sidewalk, watching his back go away. What else did you expect, idiot, if you just saw him fight with his girlfriend? What did you want, for him to flirt with you?
Well, shit. Now I do have a job… that's what I get for butting in where I'm not supposed to. Although I think it was worth it, but this mess… and I really would like to be at this moment some fairy godmother who can fix everything with a wand.
At least I ate a double portion of cake…
I look at the mess this guy left behind, it's like a small tornado had taken out the decorative plants on our terrace. Everything is broken… and I have to clean up… I know. I'm a responsible girl with my job. But my still very sore joints at that moment remind me that I don't. I still have to walk to my apartment and a warm bath awaits me. I'm done with my shift… and if I leave that mess there, it might still be there tomorrow when I come back, waiting for me. My boss will still be angry tomorrow when he discovers this mess. I don't have to tell him how it really happened. He doesn't know that I know what happened. We don't have cameras outside that can reveal what really happened here. It could have been any drunk in the middle of the night, right? At this time of night, no one will pass by… right? Yes, my aching ankle answers me. Go home Violet. Go rest and take that medicine you need so badly right now. Yes, because despite the delicious chocolate cake, everything actually still hurts. Especially the abrupt fall of the butterflies in my stomach.
I let out a long sigh, perhaps from exhaustion, before getting up from the chair and taking the dishes back inside. I wash them and put them away. Nothing happened here. I cross the threshold of the exit door for the third time and finally, finally, I can lock it and call it a day.
My apartment is only two blocks away from here, so it's not worth it to order an Uber for that short distance, but for my ankles and hips, they are an increasing torment.
I try to ignore the growing pain and walk down the sidewalk toward my home, in the exact opposite direction that the boy took. I keep thinking about him the whole way. I wish I knew he was okay and that his problem, whatever it was, could be solved. It really hurt my heart to see him there, so desolate.
My thoughts return to him and his melancholic look again and again. My head is in the clouds as I walk through the center of the small tree-lined square in front of my home. I don't distract myself by looking at the multicoloured petals on the ground like other times, I don't look at the foliage that at this time is covered with shadows and lights, giving an ethereal image of the place, as if I were passing through a tunnel of leaves, a dark green vault that protects me from the sky. No. My eyes are plagued by his hypnotizing gazes, my mind repeating over and over the heat and the electric current that ran through my hand when I took his, the movement of his lips on the fork, the curves of his clenched jaws full of contained anger... his clenched fists containing themselves before the tsunami that was passing over him, still standing upright despite everything. Upright, not like me who just tripped and saw the ground in front of me, because my head was in the clouds... ouch!
I manage to put my hands in front of me, only to fall on all fours on the ground. My knee takes the prize. I'm sure I'll have a nice bruise on both of them tomorrow. Perfect.
I sit on the ground for a while before I gather my courage and get up. Everything hurts even more. I'm alone here in the park, with no one to help me. Although I don't know if I'd be embarrassed to let someone else come closer... all because I was thinking about a cute boy I don't even know and most likely I'll never see again either... I'm an idiot... That thought makes me burst out laughing. I laugh to myself at the situation... if someone saw me now they'd think I'm crazy or drunk, or maybe both, and that makes me laugh even more. And I laugh and laugh. What's wrong with me? The cute boy's face lit up with a slight smile when I came back with the second piece of cake, comes back to my mind and stays there, and calms me down. Because that tiny but beautiful smile is priceless. My heart confirms it. And the butterflies that are rising from the floor of my stomach too. Yes, it was worth the effort, and this stupid and totally avoidable fall, and all the extra work that awaits me tomorrow. I'm sure if someone saw me now they'd laugh with me.
I get up, brush off my dusty clothes, and resume my walk, limping slowly even if it takes me all night to get to my building, because thoughts of him won't leave me. I think it's inevitable that he'll stay in my fantasies from now on, forever.