003 | watermelon complexions

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W A T E R M E L O N

People like that...nervousness washed through his body. Breathe, he told himself.

"Mikah, lets go." The brown eyed girl pushed
them both towards the door, coming back to Avery with an uneasy smile.

"I'll take care of these." She said, rummaging through her bag and grabbing her wallet. As she tapped her card against the reader, Avery found himself staring at her in a dull sense of curiosity. Looking beyond her face and noticing her leanly-muscled build. For some reason, she reminded him of the police officer who frequented the area around his house.

"Sorry about all that." She continued, carefully, as her hands fidgeted on the wooden countertop. That stopped his anxiety spiral right in its tracks. "No worries." Avery hesitantly replied, looking at the customer behind her and fishing for the tongs again, hoping that no one complained to his boss for the holdup. The girl seemed to realize the line, sheepishly putting her wallet back and retreating towards the door.

      Avery glanced at the window as his hands wrapped up a croissant and handed it to a middle-aged woman. Her friends were waiting outside it, the girl's arms crossed and the boy sneering pleasantly at his phone. Once the brown eyed girl reached them, the boy put his phone down and they began walking away as a group.

Avery took a sip out of his water bottle, reminiscing on the recent event. Weird girl. He thought, before turning his attention back to the cash register, and the line. Customer facing professionalism slipped back into his features, mind readily distracted by the monotony of his job.

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