|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
A touched overrated ch.2~Roses~ POV
"Miss Rosalie. Up." I groaned at the only sentence my maid could put together.
The words that meant I'd have to move.
Of course it wasn't the wonderful mother that I had never had the pleasure to spend more than an hour with. Unless you could the nine months I was in her stomach, and the twelve hours I spent getting away from her. She was probably in Rome, completing her weekly shopping trip. And daddykins was probably in Beijing with some crucial business deal that would take months.
And me, at the second week of high school. What fun.
I trudged past expensive flourishing into my walk-in closet, stopping along the way to brush my teeth. Yes, I had a walk-in closet as big as Anne's room, no offense to her. Either way, half of the clothes in here are Anne's. Or claimed by Anne. My mum liked to buy me clothes, which Anne managed to fit into quite nicely. The only thing she bought me that I actually wore were the headbands and the flats. And even then I had to censor out the d
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
Keep in Touch!