Forget Me Not - A Phanfiction

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dan's POV

I turn over, the harsh glare of the red digits taunt me. It's 2 AM. If I want to get any sleep, I need to leave now and go back to my flat. The heavy arm around my chest feels welcoming and right, and I hate having to sneak away from it. However, I've learned my lesson,  after a few mistakes in the past when I just couldn't find it in myself to get up and leave. There's no way I can handle what I will most likely face in the morning if I stay.

I make the 15 minute drive back to my flat and collapse down on my unwelcoming bed. Sleep quickly takes over.

"Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down!"

I groan, pissed off that my own fucking alarm clock just Rick Rolled me. However, I must say that a little Astley in the morning is much more desirable than the loud, shrill beeping of the alarm I used before switching to the radio. Either way, it doesn't matter. It's still four in the morning, and that sucks. I turn over, peering at the barren space next to me and close my eyes, imagining it warm and full for just one moment

Just. One. Moment.

That's all I'll allow myself before dragging myself out of my bed and into the shower where the hot water wakes me up and hides the tears streaming down my face. I make a quick cup of coffee, knowing I'll end up having more later today, and then trudge back to the bedroom to get ready. Articles of clothing are strewn all over the floor, and I can't tell which ones are clean. At the end of a long, stressful day, I usually end up stripping my clothes off and throwing them aside, sometimes aiming for the laundry basket and other times not caring. It doesn't matter anyway. No one's here to remind me to clean up or roll his eyes when something's a hair out of place.

After much difficulty I locate a clean pair of skinny jeans and a stain-free shirt. They'll have to work. The coffee is ready, and I rush to pour it. In doing so, I manage to spill it all over my shirt. I barely notice the scalding liquid seep through my shirt, but I'm not completely numb. Yet. The small pink mark it leaves flares into a bright red, and I grab an ice pack to press over it. Tossing the now stained shirt into the bathroom sink, I search for something else to wear. A battered, old t-shirt is balled up in a corner of the closet. I pick it up, debating whether to wear it, but I don't want to risk it getting dirty. That would mean I'd have to wash it.

I bring the shirt up to my nose and inhale, transporting myself to a time not too  long ago. My nose tingles as tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Pressing the shirt to my lips, I place it down and notice the glaring numbers on my clock

Oh Shit!

I'm going to be late, again. I spot a gray v-neck on the ground and pull it on, not even caring whether it's clean or not. My apron will cover it if it isn't.

I rush and pull into my spot in the dingy alley behind the cafe and let out a sigh of relief. I'm only a minute late. Bryony is already there, standing near the back entrance with her eyes closed as she nods along to whatever music is pulsing through her earbuds. She looks so happy... so free, and her lightness spreads to me as a smile somehow finds it ways onto my face. It almost hurts my cheeks, those muscles have rarely been used as of late. I try to not scare her and gently shake her shoulder so she knows I'm there. Her small body melds itself to mine in a hug and I can not help but hug her back. We walk into the kitchen and stand there blinking as the dull lights slowly flicker on.

I let her know what we need to get done, and without speaking, we dive in. We both toss on our shabby aprons, and Bryony plugs in her ipod to a set of speakers perched on a shelf. Then, we move around the kitchen, unspoken partners in this dance that we've done for so long. We gather ingredients, mix, stir, and bake for the next couple of hours. There's a small minute of panic when I can't find the chocolate chips for a particular muffin we make, and I barely avoid a complete anxiety attack. Bryony's quick thinking saves the day when she remembers to check the fridge.

"Sorry, Dan. I must have put them in here. It's okay. It's all okay." she reassures me.

A few shakey breaths later, the buzzing in my ears and the beating of my heart slowly subsides. An hour later and I have no time to think about chocolate chips anymore. The line at the register hasn't stopped since seven in the morning. However it keeps me busy, and it certainly keeps my mind off other things I'd rather not dwell on, even if it's only for a few moments. Of course, it all comes crashing down when I see a young couple sitting at the table by the window, sharing a scone. My stomach tightens, and the painful pit in my stomach throbs, reminding me of what I no longer have.

I hold it together, just barely, through the breakfast rush before I allow myself a second cup of coffee during a dead spot. Bryony peeks in from the kitchen to check on me, and I tell her I'm okay. Well... as okay as I can possibly be.

As the line picks up again, I find myself anxiously glancing at the clock, continually noting the time. My hands shake a bit and a thin sheen of sweat coat my forehead. I try to calm myself down, but between the completely aggravating customer in front of me and the two coffees I've consumed, it's extremely difficult to do.

"I'm sorry sir," I repeat for the thousandth time " While I understand your desire for vegan friendly pastries, I can't come up with a decent substitute for actual cheese in the danish. However we do have a wide variety of vegan muffins if you'd like to try those?"

My eyebrows pinch together as I try hard not to cry. I can't deal  with this asshole when I have a million other things on my mind. I do my best to think of some sort of compromise that will be acceptable to the die hard vegan in front of me, who's wearing leather shoes no less, when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Without even looking up to see if it was really him, a wave of calm crashes over me.

The demanding customer in front of me might as well not even exist, as I bask in the light, relaxed feeling I'm experiencing. I glance over and a pair of light blue eyes are staring at me. For a second, I hold that small glimmer of hope that maybe...maybe..

And then he turns away, dropping his gaze as he fidgets awkwardly.

My eyes close for a moment, despair flooding through me.

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