Ding, ding, ding!
The tinkling sound of the bell rang as she pressed on it three times, indicating the chefs working at the back that there were more orders that just filed in – though she had to wonder if they had managed to catch it, for she couldn't even hear her own thoughts which were drowned out by the incessant chatters echoing in the rather small, but thriving restaurant. Ripping the small paper out from her pad, she swiftly attached it to the small window that connected them to the kitchen, before going back to the main desk to rest for a little while. She gazed at the people happily enjoying their meal, and the sight was rather bittersweet to behold.
She wondered if there was any special occasion happening tonight – she had never seen so much people filing in one after another, and the usual serenity that colored this part of the town was now replaced with a sudden splash of hues, - yellow and blue and red and orange all mixing together, creating a lively painting of a bustling bistro. A small sigh of exhaustion escaped her soft lips – she had only been working in this restaurant for a few months, and truly, she was grateful for the opportunity that was given to her. Perhaps God had now managed to hear her pleas and took pity on someone like her, so she had somehow landed on a job that slowly, but surely helped her rise above poverty. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough for her. Still, she wasn't used to this kind of setting – the air was light, and she was constantly serenaded by the sound of laughter erupting every now and then. Every night felt like a festive occasion, and the notes of people's happiness stringed together created a glorious symphony of joy. No, she was not used to that at all – silence was her constant companion and friend, and she felt ambivalence at the nature of her job; it was both exhausting and thrilling, but nevertheless, she was thankful.
"Hey Shura, I've got my hands full – do me a favor and take the order from table six, will ya?" a co-worker said, jolting her out of her reverie. She nodded and rubbed her golden eyes in an attempt to wipe away her exhaustion, then got her pad and pen ready as she walked towards table six, but her steps slowed as her gaze fell onto a familiar man: Black-sleeved, yellow hoodie; unruly dark locks and a goatee – he was relatively tall, and leaned a bit too much towards the skinny side, but despite the lack of apparent muscle, his aura exuded strength, and it was amplified by the roughness of his looks. Trafalgar Law, that was his name.
The familiarity did not stem from a memory of long ago – no, but the stories she had heard spoke of a man who was infamous for being known as the surgeon of death, and a formidable pirate. It was disconcerting to see him in the flesh, as if the main character in her favorite story had now materialized in front of her. She felt her heart stumble in nervousness, and fear slowly started to creep onto the shadows of her thoughts. She gulped as she noticed that more than half of the people's rowdiness had hushed down, and they were all regarding the man with apprehension. What am I supposed to do? She thought in a panicked state, and her flustered mind couldn't comprehend the fact that all she needed to do was simply get his order.
She was not exactly afraid of this man – far from it, actually. In fact, it might surprise a lot of people to hear that she actually admires him; the stories that were engraved in her thoughts since childhood spoke of a man that was to be feared and detested by some, but she revered his unwavering strength and drive. That, and she marveled at his capability to ignore the whispers of the people around him, as if he was a completely carefree character who does not get affected by the pressures of society. He had certainly witnessed countless battles and bloodshed, yet here he was, completely relaxed and capable of smiling. She wished to be more like him.
Swallowing down her previous anxiousness, she forced herself to face the notorious pirate and cleared her throat to get his attention. Sharp, grey eyes snapped towards hers, and she had to stop herself from taking a step back at the intensity of his gaze – it burned through her sensitive flesh, and her porcelain skin was now painted with a bright hue of magenta – she was embarrassed and shy, and she didn't know how to overcome this sudden loss for words.
"G-good evening, s-sir. M-may I take y-your order?" she managed to choke out in a soft and weak voice. His eyebrows rose, and he leaned in towards her with a confused expression on his face.
"Eh?" he uttered in confusion.
"O-order. I mean, may I take your o-order?" she replied weakly, her voice laced with a slight tremor of nervousness, and her skin flushing a deeper shade of red as her embarrassment intensified.
"Speak more clearly, girl, I can't hear you properly," he said in a terse and commanding tone. She had to wonder if she had spoken so softly that he truly couldn't catch her words, or if he simply found amusement in her current dilemma.
"M-may I please take your order?" she tried again in her usual manner.
"What? I didn't catch that!" he exclaimed, though she caught a small smile growing on his face. There was a twinkle of delight in his eyes, and she felt a small spark of irritation at his obvious game. Her flustered state may have been entertaining to him, but her emotions were not something that could simply be played with, and she did not appreciate his lack of respect.
"I said, may I take your order, sir?" she said in a stronger voice, and Law looked at her with a smile, before nodding his head in approval.
"That's more like it – speak with confidence, and people would listen to you more," he replied with a small smirk, and she looked at him, startled and confused. She didn't know what to make of this, and she wasn't sure if she was going to feel embarrassed or thankful, or perhaps both. But before she could contemplate on it further, she heard his booming voice pulling her out of her thoughts.
"I'll have grilled fish and three pickled plum onigiri," he said curtly. She wrote them on her pad whilst nodding in acknowledgement.
"One grilled fish and three pickled plum onigiri for Mr. Law, am I right?" she said in a clear voice before shooting him with a look of warning. She didn't want to play another round of his confusing game, and she'd rather speak more loudly than what she was used to for a while than continuously repeat herself.
A beat passed with nothing but shocked silence accompanying them, and she fidgeted under the force of his stare. "You're aware of who I am?" he finally said with raised eyebrows. She gulped before nodding stiffly, and she jumped in surprise when he suddenly barked out a laugh.
"Is that why you seem so frightened of me?" he jested.
"N-no, that's not it at all. I… I was just simply star-struck," she replied in a meek voice.
"Star-struck? What, am I supposed to be a famous star now?" he responded with a chuckle.
"No, no! That's not what I meant… just, well, I have heard of you, that's all. And I was just astonished at how…" she trailed off, not knowing how to continue – she mentally scolded herself for spewing out ridiculous things, and she was certain that she looked like a complete idiot.
"How?"
"How normal you look," she finally concluded, and the seriousness of her tone amplified the hilarity of the situation in Law's eyes. He laughed again and shook his head in the process.
"Interesting, of all the words to describe me, you are one of the first to call me normal," he said in between small chuckles, and his eyes, which were a semblance of a storm's hue, clashed onto her eyes of gold, the color of sunshine on a bright, summer's day. She looked away, unable to handle the weight of his powerful gaze. She didn't know that it was even possible to feel even more embarrassed, but here she was, berating herself for blurting out her thoughts, though he seemed to gather nothing but amusement in this.
"I don't think I caught your name?" he asked, a small smirk plastered on his face.
"Shura," she answered with a small, uncertain smile. This man was certainly interesting, that he is – she was envious in the smoothness of the way he spoke, and marveled at the ease in which he carried himself. She wondered what she looked like in his eyes – a fumbling fool, perhaps? She was tempted to run right then and there, but his unsolicited advice a while ago echoed in her thoughts. Nodding to herself with her jaws determinedly set, she looked at him straight in the eyes, hoping that he could see that she was trying her best to remain as confident as she can.
"I'll be right back with your order, sir," she added, before bowing her head slightly and turning away – his stare bore holes onto her back, but she continued to walk on with unfaltering steps, though her skin remained flushed.
Ding, ding, ding!
She pressed the bell three times, and placed his order onto the small window where the chefs would see. Somehow, she had a feeling that she would see more of him soon.