Killing Me Softly (Reaper Romance)

Chapter Five: The Horror

Micah stood up and raked a frustrated hand through his short blond hair. I'm hoping I can leave this part out in the report, he thought to himself. 

The plan in his head was terribly childish, he'd admit. But as with most things, perhaps the children are not all wrong.  Some things, despite the low level of maturity, has it's place in the grand scheme of things and may be proven quite effective.

Walking off to the back, towards the kitchen, he ventured through the silver double doors unseen to all into a bustling kitchen. Chefs galore at gathering as they stood conjuring delicious foods with flame and grill along with helpers dishing meals and of course busy, busy wait staff shuttling plates and drinks. Right on the table next to the doors laid a couple of aprons. Off to a corner past the wall of lockers, Micah felt the warmth of his body intensify as he willed himself visible on the mortal coil. Without a hitch, he grabbed one of the black waist aprons and tied it around him.  It blended well with his black button down shirt and slacks that was his typical work clothes on the mortal plane. No one seemed too invested in observing their surroundings as everyone was running double time from the dinner rush. Taking full advantage of that, Micah saw his chance to grab a tray of three pasta dishes and balance it on his shoulder as he walked out into the house area.

"Yep, this will do nicely", he said aloud to himself.  Walking to the other row of tables, he eyed the table where his mark and her date sat.  He was able to see Mark's face as he laughed and ate his food. Micah felt a weird pang in his gut watching Mark drool all over Briseis, but couldn't figure out why. The guy just irked him--and he wondered if it was this nagging annoyance which inspired this little plan. Either that or he just desperately wanted to go back home.

Moving closer to their table, he knew he had to act fact so no one from the staff really questioned him. He needed to get to it and get back invisible, where he could continue his recon of her in peace. Almost panting, Micah picked up speed and right when Mark reached a zenith in his laughter, Micah tripped, sending the tray of food sliding down and two meals crashing down in Mark's lap. The loud crashing of plates and food were blended by the surprised screeches from Bree and other women who watched. The ambiance of the lovely Italian restaurant was tainted by awkward silence of patrons as they witnessed the disaster.

Mark, hissing a curse, immediately stood up as the hot pasta and sauce ran down his button down shirt yelping at the mess all over him. Cheese, rich red sauce and pasta pieces adorned his clothing.

Micah's mouth gaped opened in shock and couldn't tell how much of the shock was genuine. Wow, a direct hit!  

"I'm so, so sorry!" Micah apologizing profusely. His face innocent and bathed in light.  "Are you alright?"

Mark's face, however, was beet red and body stiff as he glared at Micah. He knocked Micah's hand away as he tried to pull pasta off him. "What the hell are you doing, man?! I've got shit all over me! Why don't you watch what the hell you're doing!"

His explosion was so threatening, Micah saw Briseis flinch. If Micah didn't know any better, he would think Mr. Clueless wanted to take a swing at him for this embarrassment. Besides the food being a little hot, he was sure there was no physical damage.  He'd imagine the only thing hurt was his pride.

Briseis stood up, leaning over to assist with her napkin. "Mark, it's going to be ok--." As she said that, her eyes caught Micah's presence, steadfast and unexpectedly. His stark blue eyes held her for a moment, suspending her somewhere far away from where they were now. There was something haunting and also strangely thrilling to her behind those ocean eyes. Her mouth dry, she suddenly became aware of her staring at the handsome, clean shaven face and tried to blink. Good heavens on earth, who was this guy?