Every once in a while, I get these little bursts of modern/real world Cedfia and jot them down. So I decided to finally put them into a collection. It's not really enough to make a proper story out of, though they do all exist in the same timeline.
He spotted her in the line ahead of him, shining russet locks cascading in thick, loose tendrils down the back of a faded band teeshirt. His band. He sauntered up behind her, bending to speak directly into her ear, so she would hear him over the whir of the industrial machines behind the counter.
"You like the Dark Arcana?" He quizzed, and she peeked over her shoulder at him first.
Once she saw who was speaking to her she spun around, grinning widely, and he very nearly went breathless at the sight of her sparkling turquoise eyes as the curtain of penny-coloured lashes fluttered open wide.
"It's you!" She gushed with a musical voice that would force angels to blush in shame. "I can't believe it! I've been to a ton of your shows." He bobbed his head humbly, embarrassed at her overwhelming enthusiasm.
"Really?" He asked in surprise, having half-expected to hear that she was simply borrowing the shirt from someone else, or perhaps had picked it up at a thrift store, thinking it made her look trendy. "You know, we always go out front after the show. Stop by next time, say hey."
"I will, seriously." She ducked coquettishly, a pleasing glow overtaking her cheeks at his attention. "I-I think you're amazing." Oh, to be so straight-forward. Even his mild successes had not gifted him with the confidence that she must possess to boldly state such a thing to a total stranger.
"Miss, your mint mocha is ready." The barista interrupted, holding out a small green cup toward them. She accepted it with impeccable manners, then flashed him another smile.
"I, um... I have to get going." She appeared every bit as disappointed as he felt, her eyes flashing quickly toward the glass door and then back to meet his gaze. "I really will come talk to you, though. If you're not bothered, of course."
"Bothered?" He chuckled, ignoring the line forming behind him and the woman trying impatiently to take his order because it felt vital to keep talking to this beauty for even a minute longer. "I'm looking forward to it."
"Me, too... I have to go." She repeated, still not taking a step away from the counter.
"Excuse me, are you going to order something?" The brunette behind the counter demanded loudly. He held up a dismissive hand and slipped out of the line.
"You already said that, you know?" He teased, an easy half-smirk ghosting across his face as she flushed all over again.
"Did I?" She asked absently. He nodded and she twittered nervously. "I suppose so. It's just, I'll be late for school." He furrowed his brow, just now taking into account how young the girl looked.
"How old are you?" She cast her eyes downward, avoiding his questioning gaze. A clear sign that whatever number she offered was not to be trusted.
"Sixteen?" The upward inflection made it sound more like a question than an answer.
"Lying doesn't suit you." He slid a sharpie out of his front pocket and held his hand out. "Lemme see your cup." She raised an eyebrow at him, but handed it over all the same.
Hastily, he scribbled a note for her and handed it back, watching as she skimmed over it.
Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, Princess.
"You have to go." He reminded her when she opened her mouth to respond, and she flustered, flickering her eyes, the bright jewels he was sure he'd be imagining for the rest of the day, to the clock behind the counter.
With a small gasp, she dashed off in the direction of the exit, pausing to turn and wave back at him as he rejoined the back of the line. He pointedly ignored the small tug at his heart as she disappeared into the outside world.
"Are you actually buying something this time?" He brushed his faux silver bangs out of his eyes and ordered himself a bottle of cold beer. While he waited for it, he deflated against the smooth, cool stone counter. She's too young for me. Just my luck...