Meeting under not so well circumstances.

Laura Rig stared out the window, running her fingertips over the rim of her coffee cup, her attention dozing.
“Hey, Laura we got to get cleaning.” Stephen Chung yelled, her attention was then snapped back to reality and the cup goes flying to the floor with an unsatisfying splat.
Stephen lets out a curse and warns her to watch out before trudging into the storage room with a huge box. Laura sighed deeply and grabbed a rag from the table mumbling something as she picks up the pieces of the broken glass mug from the wood floor, the door to the shop pinged and she looked up, a man in a red trench coat glided in not even passing a glance toward her, she bit her lip and furrowed her brow speaking out softly
“Excuse me Sir, we’re closed” the man stopped and turned around she bit back a gasp. The man was absolutely gorgeous; his features were sharp and menacing but never hindered his dark blue eyes, a narrow scar ran along his cheek bone down to his neck, but it didn’t stop there the rest was covered by his black shirt and red pants. The man smiled and she looked away clearing her throat and repeated again in a stronger tone “We are closed” the man shuffled in his spot, pulling his hands from his coat and lit a cigarette. Laura’s eyes widened and she sputtered
“Hey you can’t smoke in here!” the man grinned again before looking behind his shoulder “Hey Steve is the papers ready?” a soft reply echoed from the storage room

“Yeah, they are in the file by the coffee maker” Laura blinked completely dumbfounded as she watched the man casually walk behind the counter. “What papers?” she asked getting up from the floor with the pieces of glass wrapped in the rag. Steve walked out of the storage room wiping the sweat from his forehead “The papers from the Store Laura.”
She stared at him. “So this is the man you’ve been talking so highly of?” Laura glanced at the man in the red trench coat and wrinkled her nose “Why?” Stephen grabbed the rag out of her hands and disposed of it. “We spoke about this Laura, you know why”
Laura shook her head “Yes I know but why him?” Stephen blinked and tilted his head “Why not?” the man snickered and stuffed the papers into his coat “Yeah, Why not Laura?” She glared at him and returning her attention to Stephen “Because look at him” she stated, waving her hands “A red trench coat? I mean come on”
The boys both looked at each other before breaking out in laughter “I think it suits me” the man said looking down at himself she rolled her eyes and turned away. “You can’t just hand over a shop like that” she said defiantly. She has been with this store for as long as she could remember, leaving it in the hands of a man like him doesn’t even seem right, not right at all. She shook her head and gathered her bag from around the chair and slipped it around her shoulder. There’s nothing she can do about it now she sucked in a breath both of the men stopped and averted their attention toward her. Laura didn’t even glance back as she pushed open the door, the familiar ping ringed in her ears as she stepped out into the cold winter air, she shivered and hugged herself and mumbled “Jesus Christ is colder than a banshee’s tit.”
She stuck her hands into her pocket searching for her keys and to her not-so-surprise they were nowhere to be found, she grumbled and searched her bag, she groaned and turned around as she shuffled through her bag, she looked up and jumped back surprised her hand darting toward her heart. “Mother of god, don’t sneak up on people like that!” the man laughed “Sorry about that.” He reached into his pocket and dangled the keys in front of her she blinked “Where did you find those?” he shrugged and tossed them at her; caught off guard she fumbled and caught them.
For a moment she stood there “Wait a second” she looked up at him, waving her finger at him “I didn’t hear the door open” the man grinned and her heart stopped a flush creeping over her cheeks “You weren’t paying attention.” She tugged her bag closer to her side and leaned against the store window “I would have heard the door if you were coming outside”
The man shrugged, and flipped open his lighter, lighting his cigarette before looking over at her “Are you ever going to ask me my name?” She shifted and shrugged “It never really occurred to me” he leaned his head against the side, staring at her “Well?” she shifted once more “Fine what is your name?”
This seemed to make him really happy because his grin showed all his teeth, each and every one of them had a sharp point to them; she shivered as the word dangerously rolled off his tongue "Damian Savant."

To be or not to be

Damian Stared after the strange woman, flicking the cigarette to the floor. Something about her reminded him of someone he once knew a long time ago. He reached up and touched his scar by habit. She is long gone now…Stephen walked out, locking the door, his hand going out and gripping his shoulder. “Well man here are the keys” Damian looked over at him, and stepped back. He never liked being touched much and took the keys from Stephen. “So tell me, who is she.” Stephen zipped up his hoodie and looked over at him “You mean Laura?” Damian nodded, tucking his hands back into his pockets. “Well she’s been a customer and a coworker here longer than any other, even me and my gran ran this place before she died” They started walking down the sidewalk. “She’s a real beautiful girl isn’t she?” Damian agreed and rolled his shoulders “She was acting weird today though.” He yawned and shrugged “I don’t know why though, but any ways bye.” Stephen waved and turned the other way, toward a brown SUV. Damian bit his inner cheek in distaste; he has never met anyone so dense in his life.

...

Damian walked into his flat, closing the door shut behind him. When he knew he was inside he pulled out the ownership papers to the coffee shop and laid them down on the table. He sighed and pulled a bottle out of the fridge and kicked it shut before plopping down into his chair. He tilted his head back, pressing the cold beer to his fevered skin. The images of Sarah Love flashed in his head, the way her body slummed against his, her blood was everywhere and all he could hear was the fire and the cackle of a man he dare not speak of. Damian popped open the beer and gulped it down before throwing the bottle on the floor, it made a cracking sound and he dropped his head back against the headrest. His hand went up to rub his forehead where his horns were hidden under his hair.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 08.11.2011

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