Two Edges of One Sword (Carlisle Cullen/Reader/Charlie Swan)

III

"Thanks for stopping in!" You pushed a bandaged hand up to wave slightly at the gentlemen strolling out the door, frowning when it slammed behind them. Your eyes flicked up to the clock above the door, the time reading nine-thirty. The sky outside had been dark for sometime now. You casually swiped a cloth over a clean-looking glass in your hands and your eyes swept across the nearly empty dining area. There were only two people left and it seemed like they would be finishing up here soon.

"Deader than the commies in here," your coworker mused from the other side of the bar. You chuckled and flashed a smile towards her. "I think I'll probably leave here in the next ten minutes if that's the case." You let out a pfft, swiping your hand across the air.

"Go ahead, door's already locked. I'll clean up after these guys leave." You gestured to the few people left at their tables. "Everything's already done. Bread's in the oven for tomorrow, dishes are done," you shrugged, "just gotta get these tables and I'll probably head out too."

"Sounds good." Your coworker throws the rag she had been cleaning with into the spare bucket full of water behind the bar. She shuffles behind the counter before making her way behind the kitchen door for a final time for the night.

"Excuse me, what time do you guys close?"

Your head whipped around face-to-face with the new face on the other side of the bar. "Sorry, say again?" You take a quick moment to scan him, easing when nothing particularly sticks out to you.

"What time are you guys shutting these doors?" He waves his hand over to the door, paying no attention to the lock that had already been flipped up.

"We close at nine actually, you and the other guy over there are the last two in here." You nodded your hand towards the lone stranger on the other side of the dining room. "Take as much time as you'd like, no rush at all."

He doesn't say anything but nods his head, instead turning and making his way back to the booth he was at. You pause for a moment but think nothing of it, polishing away at the glass in your hand before setting it down neatly among the rest of them. You wring the rag above the bucket before tossing it in halfheartedly.

"I'm heading out now," the kitchen door opens again and your coworker's face pops through. "I'm leaving through the back. Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"I'm working tomorrow, yeah," you nodded. "I'm coming in at three."

"Good, I'll be in around two or around that time. Do you need anything for your hand?" She points to your hand and you watch her car keys jingle in the air. You stop for a moment, glancing down at the beige-bandaging. "Not sure if you should come in tomorrow."

"It's a cut," you shrugged and tried to laugh, "who's gonna care? It'll be fine in a week."

Your coworker doesn't say anything for a moment and you swallow. She finally says, "see ya, (Name)."

The door shuts with a tiny click and your coworker is gone again. You turn to check on the two people left in the diner along with you and find yourself pleasantly surprised to see their seats empty. Funny. You didn't even hear the door while talking to your coworker.

You grab a dish bucket and rush over to toss their dirty plates and cups inside. You run back to the counter and snag the rag that you had just thrown into the bucket, quickly making your way over to their tables. In a few minutes, after swiping the surfaces and adjusting the condiments and accessories, you sigh in content at the sight of the clean tables.

You grabbed the full dish bucket and bustled back behind the counter, pushing the kitchen door open with your hips before sliding in. Lightly strutting in, you almost carelessly dump the dishes in the sink. You sat there for a second at the sight of the full sink. Wouldn't hurt to let first shift take care of it.