Enjoy this little yummy little dish. =) Recommended listening: Glass by Ingrid Michaelson.
I don't own Sonny.
Glass
"Oh my GOD, is that Chad Dylan Cooper?"
Sonny's head snapped up from the small no fat latte she was currently making for a skinny model wannabe.
"IT IS!"
Her eyes widened. Her head began to spin and she felt like she had taken too many turns on a tilt-a-whirl. Her stomach churned and she earnestly prayed that she would not be sick over the coffee.
"Ah, excuse me, lady?" The girl's annoying voice interrupted her thoughts. Just then she felt a searing pain running through her hand. "You're like overfilling my coffee," the model sneered. Sonny gritted her teeth together removing her hand from under the coffee machine. She smiled at the girl as she wiped the lip clean, her hand still burning.
"Thanks," the girl said, dragging the s out sarcastically.
"Thanks for coming, come again!" Sonny encouraged, noticing that the pain in her hand was quickly escalating.
"I doubt it," she coldly responded and then disappeared into the street.
Sonny sighed as she gently fingered the burnt hand in her hands as she walked over to the sink where she began to warm run water over it. Just then the door bell rang, signifying that another customer had come into the shop. She cursed to herself and wrapped her burning hand in a temporary bandage. She wiped the tears of pain from her face and turned to face the customer.
Chad Dylan Cooper was leaning against the counter, texting some unlucky girl. He was wearing those sunglasses he had bought three years ago on their vacation to Australia. Her mind began to take her on an unwanted journey backwards. She saw images of various articles of clothing thrown over every viable surface of the apartment they were renting. She saw herself making breakfast wearing nothing but his shirt while singing along with the crooning voice of Michael Buble. The way he tasted of caramel as they French kissed in the streets of Sydney.
"Holy crap," she whispered.
The man smiled, and adjusted his sunglasses, sighing.
"I have a migraine. So please, if you can, refrain from shouting."
"Chad."
"Yes, now please little lady, get me a low fat mocha latte please. Super fast," he replied, rubbing his temples with his fingers. Just then his cell phone started to ring and he picked it up. She hated the way he could always do that, see through her like she was glass. He'd done this since the first day they met. It was like she wasn't even there.
Didn't he remember? Didn't he remember the way they used to kiss in the alleyway? When his fingers explored every little bit of her skin until she slapped his hand away. Didn't he remember the first time they made love? Didn't he remember whispering sweet nothings to each other until they fell asleep on his blue bed sheets? Surely he remembered the time on the kitchen floor. She still had daydreams about that one.
She felt herself flushing as she mixed his drink, hoping that he would not notice how slow she was being.
"Are you ALMOST finished?" he directed in his sexy, yet irritated voice.
"Yes," she replied. She put the finishing touches on his drink and turned to the register to ring it up.
To her immediate dismay she saw that his sunglasses were resting on the counter. Slowly she looked up and to meet those gosh forsaken blue eyes. They'd had her from the start, with their sparkle, their alluring warmth.
Except today they were bloodshot.
"Rough day?" She inquired.
He shrugged.
"I guess so," he responded as he pulled out the leather wallet she had bought him for Christmas.
They'd been in Wisconsin to celebrate with Lucy who was getting married. Of course there was a huge SNOW storm and they got stuck celebrating Christmas in the dinky Minneapolis Airport. As they lay in the chairs at the airport, his hands ran over her curves slowly, tantalizingly while he whispered in her ear how much he loved her. She had never been more thankful for a blizzard in all her life.
She noticed that her costumers were staring at the movie star and she was brought back to her current situation.
"That will be four dollars and six cents please," her voice quivered. He shrugged and pulled out a five dollar bill, crinkled terribly. He obviously still had the annoying habit of keeping small bills in his back pocket.
"You still keep your money in your back pocket, huh?" She asked as she opened the register.
"Excuse me little lady, my cell is ringing," he responded. She sighed as she pulled out his change. He used to love her; he used to call her beautiful every single morning. Then one day he took a movie deal in England with some hot chick and they mutually decided it was time to go their separate ways.
But, as she placed his change in his soft skin, her heart skipped a beat. Why did his skin have to be SO soft and SO perfect? It had always been that way, even when his fingers would slide over her sides, finding all her ticklish spots and relishing the way he could get her to snort.
"I still think about you," she whispered. Her face flushed. Whoa, where did THAT come from?
"Yeah, sure," he replied sarcastically and she didn't know if it was to her or the person on the phone.
Her heart was crushing in on itself. He obviously was either choosing to be cold or he honestly did NOT remember who she was.
"Chad," she whispered, hoping he would hear her small little squeak.
"I'll be there in a minute," he said to the person on the phone. Finally, he clicked the phone shut and turned to her.
"What did you say little lady?"
She laughed and finally let go of his hand. Her skin was tingling with his warmth.
"Come back soon." She fixed the bandage on the burnt hand. She had been so absorbed in her memories that the pain had faded, but now it hurt even worse, if that was possible.
He smiled and nodded.
"I just might do that, little lady," he laughed as he took a sip of his coffee. He shot her a wink and then disappeared out the door. Sonny sighed and wiped a few tears off her face as she wrapped her burnt hand with skill.
Stupid heart, stupid CHAD! How dare he have the nerve to come in here and totally ignore her and still make her fall in love with him all over again? She laughed at herself, who was she kidding? She had given her heart to that JERK and he still had it. He'd always have it.
What she didn't see was that Chad had stopped outside the small coffee shop. A small smile crossed his lips.
"I still think about you too," and with that he put his sunglasses back on and took a sip of his PERFECTLY made coffee. She always knew how to make it just right.
Yes, he'd definitely come back.
-x-
"Rolled around on kitchen floors,
tied my tongue in pretty bows with yours.
And now we pass, and just like glass
I see through you.
You see through me like I'm not there.
You could make my head swerve
Used to know my every curve
And now we meet on a street
And I am blind
I cannot find the heart I gave to you.
Sometimes what we think we really want, we don't
Sometimes what we think we want, we don't
Sometimes what we think we love, we don't.
And I am blind
I cannot find the heart I gave
And when we meet on a street
Then I am blind,
I cannot find the heart I gave to you. "–Glass by Ingrid Michaelson