flushed cheeks

(i.)

"Flushed Cheeks"

All Rights Reserved

° ° ° 

(i.)

Cliché as it sounds, we first met in a coffee shop. Some local business run by a sweet older lady and her youngest son, who was usually at the register. Needless to say, he was not there that morning.

It was mid-morning, an hour or so after the morning rush and a good chunk of time before everyone in the city experienced their afternoon crash. It was getting warm out. Not quite hot, there was still a bit to go before summer officially set upon us all. But the possibility of people coming in earlier than usual for a cold brew or some other cool drink was very high, and that pushed me to hurry inside.

The place was empty, but it did not feel abandoned. Far from it. The atmosphere of the place made me feel full in a way I had never experienced before. Comfortably so, and it was not the fruit and toasted English muffin I had for breakfast. One person was in the far corner, the front counter abandoned in favor of cleaning up. That is what she was doing, wiping down a booth across the lobby from the entrance. She looked up when I walked in, the bell over the door alerting her.

"Hello!" She chirped, making her way back to the register. She was graceful as she walked across the floor, long legs eating up the area effortlessly. She did not stop until she was behind the counter. "What can I get for you?"

She was so pretty. All long blonde waves, fair skin, and green eyes. Freckles dusted her nose, and her cheeks were pink. Her face was so flawless I could not tell if she was wearing makeup or not.

I could not speak right away, my words trapped in my suddenly dry throat. A pathetic little choked noise came out instead, and I looked at the menu over her shoulder to hide my embarrassment. The growing heat in my cheeks suggested that she would know either way.

"Just," I cleared my throat as quietly as possible. "Just a plain iced coffee. With honey. Please."

She gave a dazzling grin, and my heart thumped harshly in response. "You got it," she said, putting the order into the computer. "Anything else for you?"

I shook my head, then after a pause, forced myself to speak up. "S'all."

"Alrighty. Are you taking this to go?" Her head tilted to the side as she asked, her silky hair slipping over her shoulder.

I nodded and lifted my hand without thinking, reminding myself that I came in with my own cup--one I had bought last time I came in. A clear glass tumbler with a lid and a straw, the outside decorated with a dainty floral design and white cursive lettering.

"Do you want it made in that?" Her voice was soft, still projecting that cheerfulness from my entrance into the building. I risked a glance at her face to see a soft smile painted across her lips.

My cheeks heated, probably that awful, blotchy shade of red that seemed to be a permanent feature of my person. The thought made the heat in my face even worse, but I forced myself to mumble out a barely audible, "Yes, please." I did not look at her, moving my gaze back to the menu.

"Alrighty!" She gently took the cup from my trembling hand and put something else into the computer. "That'll be $4.50."

I fumbled in my pocket for and handed over my card, then moved to the side to wait for my drink. My arms went around my torso, making myself as small as possible in case someone comes inside to order something while I was there. I did not want to chance any more attention being drawn to myself.

I glanced over the baked goods that filled the glass cases. The various muffins and pastries looked delicious. There was a shelf lined with cups above the case, all beautifully decorated. The goodies were made by a friend of the owner, and the cups were made by someone who lived in the little city. At least, that is what the tags placed on the displays stated. There was one that I wanted, just like my current tumbler, but covered in shades of green, a few hints of light purple. Leaves and vines and little succulents.

"Here you go," her sweet voice snapped me back to reality. She was smiling at me, my cup on the counter in front of her. She pushed it closer. "Hope you like it. Have a good day."

I blinked, reaching for the tumbler. It was already freezing, already starting to sweat under my palm. "Thank you," I said. "You, too."

I turned in a daze, nearly running into someone as I did. A little squeak escaped my throat, and never had I been so glad about how quickly my body could shut down when frightened. My free hand clenched, nails biting into my palm, and I nearly dropped my coffee. I had not heard them come in or the girl at the counter greet them. "Sorry," I mumbled, stepping around the person—a man judging by the musky scent coming off them—not even looking up.

I rushed out the door, pausing on the sidewalk to settle myself down. Taking a deep breath, I let the warm spring breeze and the smell of the café wash over me. Then, looking left then right, I walked across the street to the library that stood there.

word count: 926

Hai! 

This is the first part of my new story. I've been working on this for a while, and I felt like it was time to get it out somewhere for feedback. I know this chapter is short (really short), but the chapters that follow will be longer and have much more to them content wise. 

Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think about it!

- Dawn 😊