The Oriental Place

8

My eyes can't seem to pull away from the cafe.

There, leaned against one of the empty tables, practically the only thing I can focus on, is the exquisite silhouette I couldn't stop thinking about.

He's tying his apron behind his torso, wich hugs his waist tightly and covers a puffy black skirt, different from the one he was wearing last time I saw him. The same gothic waitress that served me and Marystella yesterday seemed to snicker and Arthur glares at her, shouting a 'Do you have a death wish??' that even I could hear from my spot outside in the street.

I widen my eyes, tilting my head to see his face properly before he turns his head a bit to the side, his eyes still focusing on some point past the staff room entrance as if he's listening to someone talking. Probably the dark makeup lady. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and I feel like dying right then and there.

I bite the inside of my cheek, leaning a bit more to glance at his whole features and bumping my temple hardly against Beth's forehead in the process.

"Ow!" She lifts her hand to rub her head when I'm already pulled away, my hands covering my mouth in surprise. "Why did you you do that??"

"I'm so sorry, Beth." I raise my fingers, not knowing if I'm welcome to touch her. "I was distracted."

"I noticed." She chuckles, her forehead frowned while she rubs it and fumbles through her bag, reaching for her lavender moisturizer. Is that her solution to everything?

"What made you so distracted anyway?"

"Uh..." I turn to look at Arthur again and he's already looking at me. 

I don't dare to break eye contact, wondering if he's looking at me with the same clouded mind I'm looking at him. He furrows his eyebrows. Oh my God.

I just manage to wave embarrassingly at him and he does the same, looking away again.

He must think I'm a goddamn stalker. 

I mean, what worries me the most is is it even far from the truth?

My face starts feeling a bit warmer and Beth exchanges some glances between us, her expression puzzled.

"Jarr? You're okay?" She looks back at Arthur. "Who is that?"

I look back at her, snapping out of my trance.

"Hm?" I raise an eyebrow. "Oh, uh... his name is Arhtur."

She smiles, amused.

"You're friends, or..." she chuckles. "Something else?"

I glance at him from the corner of my eyes and his eyelids are narrowed at me, two flashes of gold staring into my soul as he cleans the table he was leaning against, as if trying to figure me out. Jesus.

My eyes still a bit wide, I place my hands on her back and shove her away from the café, passing by the flourish patterned doors of the Oriental before closing the door of the Sultane's Daughter behind us, finally inside our final destination. 

Beth laughs. "What are you doing?" 

I look back at her as I hear her giggling, a small smile on my lips. 

"Sorry." I flash her an embarrassed smile. "I just thought things were getting awkward."

"Why?" She furrows her eyebrows. "I thought you guys knew each other?"

I chuckle. "Knowing each other is an overstatement." I respond, looking around the shop. 

It was a small place, colorful tapestries covering the likely worn out walls and wooden tables painted in different shades and built in different shapes with pretty drawings carved on their sides. Some unmatching beanbags were scattered around the floor, making the circulation of clients somewhat harder. The ceiling was oval and there was no natural light, only a yellow helium lamp hanging from the top faking sunlight.

The atmosphere would be cozy, romantic even, if there wasn't the lingering impression that we were in a bee hive.

Even with a small amount of people, the circular building kind of made it feel like it would smash us together at any given moment, the walls appearing to approach each other. There weren't many places to sit down besides the few tables and puffs, a group of girls leaning against the large counter and a couple of men sat down on the floor near the occupied beanbags. The only thing stopping the echoes of voices from getting any louder appeared to be the wool tapestries hanging all around us, but the little buzz-buzz hearable coming from everywhere was very perceptible still. 

"The place is nice." I mutter. "I don't know how I haven't heard of it before."

Beth smiles. "Well, you know of it now."

I nod, smiling back at her. "Absolutely. I'm definitely coming back, believe me."

We decide to order as soon as possible, coming to terms with the fact we won't find anywhere to sit down, so we can either stay in our feet inside the Sultane's or either eat while walking back to work. 

We decide to stay for a couple of minutes before getting back. 

"So... your friend really is here today?" I ask, leaning my elbows on the counter as the group of girls scoots a bit to the side to let us order, Beth doing the same as me. 

"I thought I've seen him around but, you know..." She fixes her hair absently and I scan her with my eyes curiously, wondering if she intends to look prettier. "Maybe I'm wrong."

I now, looking down at the showcase. "What are you having?"

"Pita bread wrap." She responds. "What about you?"

"A... kafka wrap?" I narrow my eyes, trying to read the title below the dish, written in a cursive letter imitating arabic. "With red onion and garlic sauce."

She nods, looking around as if waiting for someone to notice our presence.

"You come here often?" I ask, my cheek resting on my knuckles. Beth doesn't answer though.

In a moment, her eyes sparkle, widening a bit and she waves joyfully at a passing waiter, wich turns his head to our direction and waves back, smiling. His forehead is broad, his face narrowing below his cheekbones resulting on a slim chin. His nose is all angles and prongs, his eyes large, cutting through his skin in stings that appear to be cut by razors of black irises on the corners, invading his nose bridge.

He comes to attend us and Beth completely forgets to answer my question, getting lost in the dark gashes that are the waiter's eyes.