DISCLAIMER: I don't own Heero or Makoto or the country of France. Such are
the down sides of life.
Makoto smiled as her fore most patron walked into the café. He was her very first patron. And had been a regular ever since. Coming at the exact same time of day everyday. Ordering the exact same thing everyday. Unless he called for something different. He usually called ahead of time if he wanted something different or was going out of town. He had been her best regular for the last two years. Since she first opened.
After culinary college, she came to France to open her own restaurant. Makoto café. Her friends had insisted. They new she wanted to be a world- renowned cook. What better way than to put your name on the sign.
She was shocked as to how quickly her place became popular. Though she was in France, she specialized in a wide variety of food from all over the globe. In fact, that was the first reason how her restaurant became so popular. The variety. Then it was the quality of the food as well. She very well had the money to branch out if she wanted to, but she liked working this small restaurant. This place she had learned to call home.
She had even catered for some very famous people. Even Queen Releena. But that's not what made it so important. It was the people, her regulars that she did this for. The look of up most satisfaction on all of the people she cooked for. Well, save one.
Her first patron as a point of fact. Heero Yuy. He had a look on his face that showed absolutely no emotion. He came in just moments after she opened the doors. She was surprised to see that he was Japanese. It was like having a piece of home brought to you. He sat down, ordered his food, and ate it like a machine. She wondered if he even tasted the food.
She had heard of people like that before. People born without taste buds. Scary thought. Considering her profession. To test her theory, a few weeks after he started coming in, she gave him something new, disguised as his regular order. He ate it without question, without emotion. She was about to confirm her suspicion, but then he handed her his plate and said "Arigato."
She was blown away. She smiled at him and blushed at finally getting a response from him. After that he tried several of her other plates, but still stuck primarily to his regular.
In two years he came in almost every day, ordered the same thing everyday, and ate it emotionlessly everyday. Making people wonder if he really liked the food at all. But he came in every day. For two years. And ate the same thing without comment. That one-day that she had switched orders on him was the only time she had ever received comment on her cooking from him. But he still ate it. All of it. Every bite. Not wasting anything. It was hard telling if he liked the food or not.
Needless to say, for two years she had been serving him. Always endeavored to improve her orders and cooking. And try to get some comment, any comment, good or bad, on her cooking from him. He was the only person not so give comment on her cooking. Actually, she had never gotten a single bad comment on her cooking yet. From anyone. Even a bad comment from the guy would be nice.
She shook her head sadly and adjusted her hair net on her long brown hair. Heero sat down at the counter where she already had his plate of food waiting for him. He sat down and handed her the money for the meal at the same time. He ate his food without comment.
She gained a crush on the guy since that first time he commented on her food some two years ago. Having small but meaningless discussions with him over the past two years. In all that time she still knew only very little about him. She knew he was a soldier, and that was about it.
"Well Heero? What do you think of my cooking today? Is your meal better or has my cooking improved since the time you've come here?" She asked and cocked a questionable eyebrow at him.
"Hn." He grunted and continued to chew his food.
Ah yes. The old gruntle reply. No one was quite sure what it meant. Weather it was a good or a bad grunt. Nobody knew. But that never stopped her from trying to get a decent response from him. She turned around to tend to her other patrons.
"Makoto." His voice stopped her dead in her tracks. The sound of his voice always sent chills down her spine. And at the same time made her long to hear him speak more. Speak to her. She turned around to look at him.
Green eyes met blue. He smirked, a slight upturn on his lips. Barely more than a smirk. He actually smiled! He stood up and handed her the plate. She looked at it. It was only half finished. "It was perfect." He stated.
Her eyes locked on his as she heard him speak those words she thought she would never hear him speak. Her mouth fell open as she watched him turn around and stick his hands in his pockets. Walking out of the café nonchalantly.
Her heart raced. Was that a dream?
Makoto smiled as her fore most patron walked into the café. He was her very first patron. And had been a regular ever since. Coming at the exact same time of day everyday. Ordering the exact same thing everyday. Unless he called for something different. He usually called ahead of time if he wanted something different or was going out of town. He had been her best regular for the last two years. Since she first opened.
After culinary college, she came to France to open her own restaurant. Makoto café. Her friends had insisted. They new she wanted to be a world- renowned cook. What better way than to put your name on the sign.
She was shocked as to how quickly her place became popular. Though she was in France, she specialized in a wide variety of food from all over the globe. In fact, that was the first reason how her restaurant became so popular. The variety. Then it was the quality of the food as well. She very well had the money to branch out if she wanted to, but she liked working this small restaurant. This place she had learned to call home.
She had even catered for some very famous people. Even Queen Releena. But that's not what made it so important. It was the people, her regulars that she did this for. The look of up most satisfaction on all of the people she cooked for. Well, save one.
Her first patron as a point of fact. Heero Yuy. He had a look on his face that showed absolutely no emotion. He came in just moments after she opened the doors. She was surprised to see that he was Japanese. It was like having a piece of home brought to you. He sat down, ordered his food, and ate it like a machine. She wondered if he even tasted the food.
She had heard of people like that before. People born without taste buds. Scary thought. Considering her profession. To test her theory, a few weeks after he started coming in, she gave him something new, disguised as his regular order. He ate it without question, without emotion. She was about to confirm her suspicion, but then he handed her his plate and said "Arigato."
She was blown away. She smiled at him and blushed at finally getting a response from him. After that he tried several of her other plates, but still stuck primarily to his regular.
In two years he came in almost every day, ordered the same thing everyday, and ate it emotionlessly everyday. Making people wonder if he really liked the food at all. But he came in every day. For two years. And ate the same thing without comment. That one-day that she had switched orders on him was the only time she had ever received comment on her cooking from him. But he still ate it. All of it. Every bite. Not wasting anything. It was hard telling if he liked the food or not.
Needless to say, for two years she had been serving him. Always endeavored to improve her orders and cooking. And try to get some comment, any comment, good or bad, on her cooking from him. He was the only person not so give comment on her cooking. Actually, she had never gotten a single bad comment on her cooking yet. From anyone. Even a bad comment from the guy would be nice.
She shook her head sadly and adjusted her hair net on her long brown hair. Heero sat down at the counter where she already had his plate of food waiting for him. He sat down and handed her the money for the meal at the same time. He ate his food without comment.
She gained a crush on the guy since that first time he commented on her food some two years ago. Having small but meaningless discussions with him over the past two years. In all that time she still knew only very little about him. She knew he was a soldier, and that was about it.
"Well Heero? What do you think of my cooking today? Is your meal better or has my cooking improved since the time you've come here?" She asked and cocked a questionable eyebrow at him.
"Hn." He grunted and continued to chew his food.
Ah yes. The old gruntle reply. No one was quite sure what it meant. Weather it was a good or a bad grunt. Nobody knew. But that never stopped her from trying to get a decent response from him. She turned around to tend to her other patrons.
"Makoto." His voice stopped her dead in her tracks. The sound of his voice always sent chills down her spine. And at the same time made her long to hear him speak more. Speak to her. She turned around to look at him.
Green eyes met blue. He smirked, a slight upturn on his lips. Barely more than a smirk. He actually smiled! He stood up and handed her the plate. She looked at it. It was only half finished. "It was perfect." He stated.
Her eyes locked on his as she heard him speak those words she thought she would never hear him speak. Her mouth fell open as she watched him turn around and stick his hands in his pockets. Walking out of the café nonchalantly.
Her heart raced. Was that a dream?