The Impatient Man and His Suit

Muggles?

Soon after the blonde's flight from the diner, Michael and I closed up shop for the night. After slipping his key into the lock, he quickly ran off yelling "See you tomorrow!"

Although the storm had died down significantly, the night was still wet and the streets sparkled in the lamplight. Satisfied with the earthy smells emitting all around, I scraped my shoes through murky puddles. The rain, luckily, was light and I trusted that I'd get home without delay. I opened up my umbrella and started on my quest for home, but of course, halfway into my journey, the cold wind blew the rain right into the direction of my uncovered body, making it unbearable to carry on. 

"Well, that's my luck."

I started jogging on the sidewalk hoping to find an open restaurant for shelter, but considering it was 12:30 in the morning, it was very unlikely that there were still any open. Retreating from the rain and hopping off the curb, I came across a bus stop completed with a lovely dry bench. Hurriedly dipping under it, I slipped off my jacket in order to shake the rain off. Regrettably, my umbrella didn't entirely serve its purpose.

Placing the useless shield underneath the solitary bench, I sat down and left my jacket to hang on my shoulders. Disappointed with the course of the night, I stared at the increasingly heavy rainfall, patiently listening while it progressed in its violent activity of tapping on the translucent roof above.

Sighing, my warm breath crashed into the crisp air creating a visual puff. Entertained, I took an undulation of breaths in order to keep the vapor in sight. It was deathly cold, but the rain and the distant rumble of thunder calmed me. Still listening intently, I lazily blinked and my exhaustion finally settled in. Drifting into my thoughts, I laid my head to rest on my shelter, and slowly fell into a light sleep. I could still hear the rain and thunder faintly, but my attention was entirely focused on the vision of a flower field produced in my brain. In the thinly stretched dream, I ran through the field swiftly, grazing my hand over the tops of wildflowers and cattails. The air was sweet and I could feel the sun on my forehead. I ran through the field until I came across a small wood. Walking into the wood and perusing all the obscure and strange plants around me, I started to hear faint, but rapid footsteps.

*Pit pat pit pat...Pit pat pit pat pit pat*

They grew louder and louder. Getting closer and closer. Tearing my eyes open I was startled to find a man running into my little retreat. He was drenched head to toe in rain, holding plastic bags and coffee carriers in his hands; setting them down on the concrete to adjust his hair.

Scared by his sudden immersion into my shelter, I sat up and scanned the intruder. My attention was immediately turned to the man's hair. The electric blonde strands had struck my eyes with dreadful familiarity. After he fixed himself and his jacket of the rain, he picked his items back up and stood still, all the while being completely unaware of my presence.

He seemed to be completely resigned to his unfortunate situation, ignoring me who was only sitting a few feet away. After a short amount of time, he began adjusting the plastic bags and coffee carriers in his hands. He gave no indication that he saw me, and from where I was sitting I could see that his facial expression was just as bland as it was at the diner, nearly an hour ago. As I kept silent and watched him from the corner of my eyes, I contemplated whether I should say anything, and after considering that we weren't much of acquaintances, I decided to say nothing, but simply pretend he nor I were there.

Several minutes had passed with the rain still raging on, yet the man stood still. I started to fear his reaction at realizing he wasn't alone. Picturing him angrily yelling at me for not greeting him, I cringed and shut my eyes. I sat there with my hair still dripping wet and although my ponytail was drying into a crusty ball, I didn't dare to run my fingers through it.

Sitting in the cold, trying to be as silent as possible, I started to feel a drop of water slowly fall down my cheek making my skin itch tortuously. Uncomfortably, I slowly wiped the water off and lightly scratched my cheek. For some strange reason, despite my utter silence in motion, the blonde sensed my movement and jerked his head to see what the object of his disturbance was. The awkward tension returned as our eyes met.

"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to startle you..."  I started immediately. 

"Oh," he began with indifference, a blank expression adding to my discomfort, "The lazy waitress who thought I was ordering five accounts of chips to eat by myself."

Surprised at his retort, I felt my face swell in a nervous heat. I sat quietly for a good while trying to process his abrupt comment, to which I finally replied, "It was a joke. I was only trying to make conversation..." 

The man snickered at my remark and then resumed his staring into the rain. Holding my silence, I reconsidered his insult, "lazy" and couldn't help my creeping anger. Noticing his awkwardly full hands, I felt a sudden urge to comment on the state of his person.

"Oh, enjoying our food are we?"

Shocking me, he snapped in response, "For the last time you twit, it's not for me, it's for somebody else."

Further angered by his rather brazen language, I felt my heart start to beat rapidly inside my chest. "You must be incredibly daft to think I believed all of those orders were for just one man. Are you that insecure that you felt the need to clarify such a copious amount of food wasn't going to be eaten entirely by yourself?"

The blonde said nothing but quietly stared me down as I breathed heavily.

"Muggles..." he muttered, once more triggering a stream of heat to pump through my veins. He stared into my eyes with no detectable sign of emotion at all but was still entirely capable of expressing his dangerous temper. Sweating and anxious, I held my breath. Admittedly, at that point, I had lost my nerve entirely, and being unable to return the eye contact, I blinked repeatedly, looking here and there around the bus stop. He seemed so carelessly irritated, I feared what he might say or even do for that matter. Pinning my eyes onto his curiously fancy dress shoes, I noticed the silence in which we were surrounded. Luckily, the rain had stopped.

The man finally freed me of his glare and looked about himself noticing the silence as well. Relieved, my muscles lost their tension and I breathed again. Feeling confident of my escape, I tried once more to enact revenge, "Well it was most certainly unpleasant meeting you again, goodnight."

Quickly exiting the shelter I happily left the odd and intimidating character behind. Yet as I strode along the glittering sidewalk, I occasionally looked over my shoulder for fear of being followed.

 "Muggles?... What sort of gibberish of an insult is that?"