"This coffee's really good." I said to my companions, with an exalted smile as I raised the embellished coffee mug to my lips. And the moment I placed the mug back on the table, I was met with my companions' worried looks.
"You're crying …" was all they said to me, and before I even realized it, my cheeks were damp and the café's waitress was already at our table.
She extended her arm, handing me a pleated handkerchief.
"Sir, are you alright?"
She asked with a concerned look as I gently took the offered piece from her hand. Her trembling eyes were a beautiful sight. And I internally thought to myself how she deliberately chose to cover her right eye was always a spoilt delight to one's eyes.
Always? But this is the first time seeing her, right? But if so, why does she look so terribly familiar –
I shrug the bewildering thoughts with a quavering head, and quickly dabbed my tear stained face.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess the coffee was too good it made me cry." I said, giving out a strangled laugh, while my left hand had reflexively touched my chin.
"Oh." she says, dazed. Her fixed gaze was stuck on my idle hand.
I quickly averted my hand and chin from its contact from sheer self-consciousness. And upon seeing my slightly distressed reaction, she gave me a strained smile.
It looked troubled, and if I'm not wrong and a bit sad.
It was some time in the morning, when I woke up to an aching back, a stiff neck and strewed papers all over the my floor. The sun was still due to set in an hour's worth when I looked up at the ticking wall clock. Upon seeing the time I had left to finish the report for a meeting I had reserved for this morning, I begrudgingly got from the chair and started picking up the cluttered documents and continued typing away at my laptop. My only companions at this forsaken time of day were the sound of my clock's chimes, my clacking keyboard, my beating heart and a rasping voice trying to get a hold of my head.
The meeting ended a little after noon, and not so briskly at that. Tired and exhausted, I decided to take a little breather. I headed out of my disorganized office and out on the hectic streets for my lunch break, and I managed to find myself in front of a café, I've lately found solitude in.
The coffee shop had a cozy and inviting interior. The moment one would enter through the doors, one would be greeted with a whole bookcase adorning one of its walls with heaps of assorted books, it gave off a nice warm feeling inside me.
Being a booklover myself, I could honestly say that this sight might be one of the many charming attributes that draws me in. But it seemed that the shop was missing one tiny little thing, my eyes were looking around for –
"Ah, good afternoon sir!" the waitress from the other day, bellowed from the counter. Her shaken expression mimicked that of a child's face caught stealing a cookie.
My lips gave out a delighted smile, as I watched her straighten out her hair and clothes, obviously guilty of sleeping in on the job.
And I quietly note how her tender smile and wavy hair would be another of this café's charm.
The moment she had herself straighten out, she immediately gave me a docile smile, pen and notepad in hand as she made her way towards my table.
"Sorry about that." She apologized whilst giving off an awkward laugh.
And I shake my head, telling her it hadn't even been a minute since I entered the shop. "Did you have a sleepless night, I assume?" I asked, a little more than just a bit curious.
"Yeah." She replied nonchalantly. "Guess I still have a long way till I get used to college."
"Oh really? What college are you attending?"
"Kami University." She replied simply, before looking up from her worn out notepad and excused herself to the kitchen.
I complied and watched her shrinking figure make its way back to the kitchen, before I got up from my seat and made my way towards the beloved bookshelf and examined all of its items without daring to touch it.
And it seemed that I got a bit carried away with the books as I hadn't noticed her presence beside me, with a steaming hot mug of coffee and slightly stooped whilst staring at me with an amused look on her face.
"You can read them you know?" she says while giving me an encouraging head gesture. And I complied gladly none the less and first picked up a small black book. Its cover was streaked with red, as if like blood, indicating a horror-suspense genre.
"Are all those by your favorite author?" she asked, fascinated by the overwhelming volume of books I ended up bringing to my table. And coincidentally, it was by a singular author.
I merely gave off a sheepish laugh "I guess so. I picked out books with familiar plots, I think I read them once before. So maybe she was my favorite author." I concluded, while offering her a seat since it seemed that no one was arriving any time soon.
"Why does your answer seem so vague?" she asked, ignoring my offer while, giving me a questioning face.
But the look at her eyes seemed to be more of an anticipating one rather than curios. Like an investigator's eyes while questioning a possible suspect.
Nonetheless, I chuckled at her bluntness and offered her to take a seat once more – which she did due to my persistence.
"So you have amnesia?" she says the words, with a disdainfully disappointed tone. Like I should have said something more. Remembered something more.
"Please don't frown like that." I said, while taking a sip of my drink. "It's nothing all that serious. I'm fine the way I am right now. Really, I am." I try pacifying her, while raising my left hand to my chin – the gesture that I've only realized I was doing when I caught her staring at my hand once more.
"But don't you feel lonely without your memories? Twenty – two years of your life can't simply be content with two years' worth of memories righ –" mortified, she stopped. "Sorry. I'm being too nosy aren't I ?"
I simply shook my head and gave her a comforting smile. " First of all, I'm only twenty-one." Her already tinged cheeks were dyed dark red at my correction, I chuckled at the sight. "And secondly, You being nosy only means you're worried right? And for that, thank you."
The two of us were driven into hushed silence afterwards. In which the silence, was only to be broken by a staggering voice.
"But don't you at least want to remember?"
"Well, I already established myself a precious family, found myself friends and all those things. But, I guess, I'm scared. Scared that I have no place to return to if I ever did remember. What if I didn't have anyone before? I don't think, I'll be able to handle it if I ever did remember."
As I kept piling up the numerous questions in front of this girl, I've only known just recently. I looked up to meet with a refreshing smile and a reassuring grip on my hand – which I didn't realize was clutching the book tightly.
"You know, even though we might not – " she stopped for a brief moment before gulping "know each other all that well." The words came out forced and pained "This shop can always be your place to return to at the end of the day. You're free to think that this was the place you should have returned to years ago. The books, my presence, the shop. All yours."
She said gave me all those soothing words while a strained expression rested on her face.
"Let both be each other's support then." I said finally, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.
And in that moment, I could only think that such a beautiful person definitely existed before in my life.