Cops and Assassins

Part 4: Misaki

After sending the order from Tal and her friends to the kitchen, Misaki made a quick stop at the breakroom. She collapsed onto one of the foldable chairs and rested her elbows on her knees with her head in her hands, cringing in embarrassment.

She really needed to get out of the habit of saying "be back in a sec".

Or better yet, she should have realized something was suspicious when Dave willingly traded one of his easy tables for Misaki's recently acquired party of eleven frat bros. Initially, Misaki assumed he was sparing her from potential harassment, and she was actually touched by his thoughtfulness.

Clearly, Dave had other plans in mind.

But it's not like Misaki could really complain. Serving attractive customers usually brightened up her shifts, giving her something nice to look at during a long day. On the off-chance that the feeling was mutual, these patrons were usually willing to exchange playful banter with her, usually made more entertaining with inebriation. It was these moments that made Misaki's shifts pass by like a breeze.

Granted, of course, that these customers didn't try anything more than that. That's when Dave's imposing muscles would step in.

But Misaki had a feeling this latest customer wouldn't be a problem, aside from making Misaki a bumbling embarrassment. And when Misaki closed her eyes, she could easily picture the scene like a movie in her mind.

Her face caught Misaki's attention first. Behind layers of face paint and makeup, her features were delicate and smooth, and they seemed to hold a warmth that Misaki yearned to feel for herself. Tal's lips were no different, and Misaki recalled watching them part ever so slightly before gently closing with a subtle twitch, entranced by their movement.

She remembered how, when their gazes finally met, the woman's light brown eyes somehow glowed under the dim lights, and Misaki had found herself unable to avert her gaze, needing to get a closer look.

Then there was her hair. They were like strands of golden brown silk, weaved together in a delicate French braid. Misaki could imagine running her fingers through it, feeling the warmth of Tal's skin against her palm and the smoothness of her hair between her fingers. Then, she would gently tug, just to see what kind of noise—

Okay, that's enough of that.

Misaki loudly groaned in frustration. She had over four hours left of her shift, which was more than enough time to embarrass herself even further. Why did this have to happen now?

"If I didn't know better," Dave's voice said from the doorway. "I'd say that was the sound of a woman who's physically frustrated. If you know what I mean."

"Please stop talking," Misaki mumbled through her hands.

"So it's true! Misaki is going crazy over a girl she's barely talked to! I never thought I'd see the day."

"If I have to hide out in the breakroom for the rest of my shift, I'm blaming you," Misaki grumbled.

"And then once you get that girl's number, you'll be thanking me."

Misaki removed her hands from her face and frowned at Dave. "Why would she ever give me her number? She's probably not even interested."

Dave stared at her blankly for a second before sighing and rolling her eyes. "You're kidding, right? Even you should've noticed how into you she was."

"Thanks," Misaki replied sarcastically. "But even if you're right, we both know I wouldn't seriously make any moves while I'm on the clock."

"Let's be real, you wouldn't make any moves ever," Dave corrected. "That's why I said she'll give you her number."