Coffee Shop

I

Edit 1: 21/07/2018
Edit 2: 5/06/2022
Edit 3: 25/02/2023
- A/N's made during this real big edit (2023) as I cringe at what my 14-15 year old self wrote, will be in italics.

Don't be a ghost/ silent reader! Voice your thoughts and opinions (unless you're going to be rude), I want to hear what you think of this as you go along! I respond to nearly all comments (tbh, I prefer comments than voting cause comments lets me interact with you guys!).
~•~•~•~•~•~•~¥~•~•~•~•~•~•~

3rd December 2020, 08:00AM
And here I sat, a mug of hot coffee in my rough, dry hands, staring out into the bleak city of London. The steam from my coffee swirled above the mug and stuck to the coffee shop window, obscuring my view from the world beyond the glass.

I watched the fine drizzle called sirimiri fall from the grey clouds that always shadowed the bustling city of London. Was there ever a day where the clouds decided to take their leave and give us our saorsa we deserve?

Looking down, away from the weapons of mass destruction known as cars that were forever stuck at the red traffic light, letting out poisoned gas into the innocent atmosphere of our Earth, my eyes diverted to the plank of wood stuck to the coffee shop's window.

It was fixed to the window in a way to make it become a shelf or a table to sit at and enjoy your coffee, feeling a sense of  anemoia. The wood was rough with many gashes in, not enough to make the surface so uneven you could not balance a ceramic mug on it, but just enough to make it look natural, pretty almost.

Wrapping my small slender fingers around my mug (the handle in my left hand), I picked it up to blow on the surface of the wet condiment, allowing me to take a long, slow, safe sip, the bitter taste of coffee overwhelming my taste buds.

I carefully placed the mug back on the shelf, creating a mellifluous thud on the wood as it made contact.

My head down, I looked at the black pleated skirt I was wearing with my mobile phone balanced in my lap. The text app was open with the recent person I had texted displayed on my screen. I wanted to throw my phone across the coffee shop and scream; I wanted to throw my mug too, but I know not to cause a scene in my favourite coffee shop in London.

I wanted to do this simply because of the reply my text received, or rather, the absence of it.

Staring at my screen with dull eyes, I held back the tears that threatened to fall down my face, tears that would creat rivers on my cheeks and waterfalls into my mug.

In my peripheral vision, I saw a pair of legs walk past the coffee shop window, only to return again and stand in front of where I sat. The urge to look at the owner of the legs was strong, yet I did not want to look up and meet the eyes of the mysterious person stood before me. However, curiosity got the best of me, causing me to jerk my head up.

The man on the other side leaped back, clutching his chest in a white knuckle grip. I must have made him jump. Surprisingly, he started to smile and shake. Tilting my head to the side, I furrowed my eyebrows still staring at him. I think, I think he's laughing?

Why is he laughing?

I scanned my eyes over his body. He was a very tall man wearing black, skinny jeans that had rips at the knees, and a pair of shoes. What make and brand, I don't know, I'm not a shoe fanatic. He also wore a black hoodie that had no design. His face was well defined with the deepest shade of blue for eyes, and red lips that formed a huge grin on his face as he chuckled. The man's cheeks were tinted a ruby like colour, I'm guessing from the harshness of the December winds outside. I could not tell the colour of his hair, nor the style as it was stuffed into the hood of his jumper.

He was still laughing for reasons unknown, but I spared him a small nod and a smile in return to be polite, immediately looking back down to my phone which had automatically turned off due to my inactiveness.

Through the reflection on my phone screen, I inspected my dull, brown, almost black eyes that had heavy bags underneath from lack of sleep. My dirty blond hair was sticking out all over the place as it had escaped from my rushed, messy bun that sat embarrassingly atop my head. My cheeks were red, not from the cold, but the warmth of the coffee shop.

The quaint little bell above the door rang out and caught my attention as I glanced over to the glass door that was the entrance to the coffee shop. There stood the man, pulling his hood down. He had a mop of messy, brown, curly hair that looked like it would be soft to the touch.

He is not what one would call hot, or handsome, or pretty, but you could tell his beauty was more than skin deep from the way he stood, tall and proud, a smile etched onto his face, and bright eyes that shon in the dim light of the coffee shop. The epitome of confidence.

Eyes darting around the petite area, they finally fell upon my figure by the window and his grin grew wider. He started to weave his way through the tables and chairs towards me. Looking away from him, I was thoroughly confused as to why he was approaching me. No one does that unless they must.

"Hello!" The man greeted in a rather deep voice. I turned my head to look at his smiling face. He's too positive at eight in the morning on a fine day of rain. "My name is Sage," he introduced, holding out his large hand for me to shake.

Hesitantly, I reached my right hand out and took his into a weak grip.

"Hello... my name's Xandra," I replied in my painfully quiet and high pitched voice that could make anyone's ears bleed should they listen to it for too long.

"Sorry for a bit ago, you know, when I was right by the window," the man now known as Sage began. I slightly nodded my head for him to continue. "I thought you were someone else, but when you looked up you obviously weren't and kind of scared me," he nervously chuckled.

"I'm sorry if I creeped you out, that's why I came in to tell you that I'm not some crazy man who creeps on strangers through cafe windows," he admitted, laughing awkwardly while rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's okay," I simply replied.

"Ah... Well, I got to go," Sage muttered. I nodded my head towards him and he grinned brightly. Sparing him another half, fake smile, I turned back around to look out of the coffee shop window, picking up my mug of coffee.

What a strange person he was.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~¥~•~•~•~•~•~•~

First chapter of my original book. This book is completely my own idea. If you ever read a book that is like this that is not mine, then I haven't read it and don't know about it.

I used some words that I know the meaning of but I may have not used them correctly in a sentence. Sorry for bad grammar and spelling and if the book keeps on changing tenses.