Just a Black coffee, please!

{1} An extra cup to wash

"Check, check... is this thing even working?"
Alastor muttered, tapping gently on his microphone.

"Ah! Good afternoon my dear fellow listeners, I am your favourite host, Alastor, and you're welcom to another one of our monthly radio transmission! Today we will discuss about..."

Alastor walked down the street as he continued talking to his microphone. The air was cool and crisp, but not cold enough to make him shiver. He could feel the breeze ruffling his air and tickling his skin. There was a pleaseant smell in the air, too: something sweet and warm. He stopped by a shop's window, glancing at his reflection throught the glass.
The shop was a little café, but his gaze didn't stop on the pastries displayed in the window, nor on the costumers sitting at the tables.
Instead, it stopped on the woman working at the counter.

She had big, sparkling eyes and a bright smile printed on her face.

Her apron and pink uniform made her look so innocent, so fragile... almost like a porcelain doll.
Almost like she could break at a glance.

He stepped into the café, stopping the radio broadcast for a commercial break.
Most of the other clients jumped on their seats as they saw him coming, quickly running towards the door.
He took a seat at a newly vacated table, as the girl approached him.
She, who looked just as young and cheerful as her name tag said, seemed frightened, just like all the others.

"Hello, Sir! What can I get you?"
She asked politely, trying to hide her fear behind that question.

"Just a black coffee, please."

"O- oh! Yeah! Sure thing!"
She gibbered, turning around to make the coffee.

——————————————————————

You could feel your face quicky heating up as you made the Radio Demon's coffee.

The sentence repeating in your head didn't even sound true.
You were making the Radio Demon's coffee.

"Here you go, Sir."
You stammered, your voice coming out as an embarassing whisper.

"Thank you kindly, sweet Lady."

He took the cup from your hands and placed in on the table.
Then, he stared at you again. His gaze was more intense now, almost... inquisitive.

"Tell me... what is a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?"

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed pink. Was this man... flirting with you? I mean, he did call you pretty.

But no, no. What were you thinking? He was the Radio Demon! He acted like this with everyone, it's not like you were special or something. He just wanted to disorient you, that's it.

And he succeded in doing it. In fact, you were too disoriented to formulate a sensible answer.

"I...don't...know?"

It came out in such a small, quiet voice. It sounded almost sad. Almost... like the truth.

You were unable to meet his stare any longer. It was getting increasingly harder and harder to stay calm, to act normally.
Your heart rate began to increase, your palms got sweaty, and your mouth suddently felt dry.
All you felt was a strong desire to escape.

You turned on your heel before he could say anything else.
You headed to the bathroom, washed your face with fresh water, and tried to calm down. When you finally managed to return to your normal color, and walked back to the hall, he was gone.

Now you were alone, only your confusion and an extra cup to wash to keep you company.