ilarual sent in this prompt~ Kilik x Liz; "You came back"
When Kilik was younger, he grew up surrounded by wonderful things. His father was the master of the Tombs Jazz Café under his apartment building and music always filled his living room. His mother was the chef and baker who stocked the shelves and his belly with sweetness. In this particular season, peppermint and pumpkin lingered warmly in the air as Kilik ran to customers' aid at the age of seven.
"The customer is out to have a good time so we gotta make sure they get it." Kilik's mom would tap his nose and disappear into the stockroom, leaving Kilik to man the front of the house with his strong and silent dad.
The curtains, which were once lime and lemon gingham, now zig zagged green and red. Little candy cane cut outs littered the display windows. The flower beds outside bloomed with holly, wrapping around a sign that Kilik drew himself: "Don't eat the holly, eat mom's cake instead!"
Yes, there were wonderful things Kilik grew up with. Rotating seasonal plants his father bought from the Albarns. Quilts he would sew from his new siblings' outgrown clothes. Never ending songs and laughter muffled with hot chocolate and a marble bundt cake.
And her.
She's been there since his memories began. She always came in during the winter to hide from the cold, and once the ice melted, she was gone, back into the world. Her unkempt, blonde hair and scuffed clothes matched her sister's but Kilik knew they weren't bad people.
"No one is bad, they just need a little push in the right direction." His dad would rub his curls before they wiped the tables clean of crumbs and outlines of mug rims at the end of the day.
The door would tinkle once eight AM struck and the first order would be out by eight o' one. The name written on the cup was "Liz". One coffee, half milk and two sugars. The first cup always found its way to the younger girl before it came back for a refill. Black, one sugar. Free water is offered with every purchase and the customer stays as long as they want, so long as they were minding their space.
At twelve o'clock sharp, Kilik's dad would casually shout to the back of the house, "Carol? Remember that winter promotion?"
And his mother would chuckle back, "Oh, I do."
Each time, Kilik would watch from across the room and see the elder girl blush. Did she know there was no such thing as a rule that said: If you bring your sister and drink two cups of coffee during brunch, you get a free meal for you and your sister? Even though his father insisted it applies to dinner as well? Kilik knew, but he'd once told the sleepy twins at night that mom trusted him with this secret. Only bad kids don't keep secrets.
The two girls, one as tall as Kilik and the other one even taller, ate everything on the plate each and every time his mother brought out their meals.
When Kilik asked why the waiters couldn't serve the food, his mom responded, "Special guests deserve special treatment. Treat them special, Kilik."
And he did.
He offered them extra napkins even though his teacher taught him that one was enough. Their complimentary milk and juice was always poured to the brim, even if Kilik had to walk a little slower to make sure he didn't spill a single drop. Furthermore, he always escorted them to the bathroom, remembering that the elder girl became flustered if he waited in the hallway beside the door like he did when he was five.
During the winter, Kilik's dad told him that the store has extended hours, explaining why they kept the store open past seven PM or at least until the last customers leave. "Each person must leave with a smile. There are no exceptions to this rule, son."
The last tinkle marked the exit of the girls in their thin jackets, but the first in the morning was always them again.
After Kilik's tenth summer came and left, he realized that she wasn't predictable like the seasons he thought he knew. Spring always had a little ice and Autumn always had late blooming flowers. Summer still had chilly mornings and Winter didn't always start on time.
Even as the frost fogged the windows, her fingers didn't trace snowflakes into the glass that winter. The door didn't tinkle at eight o'clock and it didn't smell like coffee until nine. There were no fingers that tapped to the tune of the saxaphone. His dad didn't call out to his mom as the clock struck twelve. The last customer left at six thirty. Dinner was served by seven.
Kilik didn't escort anyone to the bathroom that winter, nor the rest of the winters after that.
The bell just above the door tinkled as the spring breeze carried in. At two PM, not many people would be hanging around a cafe, especially on a Tuesday, but there was always that outlier who sat at the edge of the room with coffee and a plate of croissants.
The daughter of the flower shop down the street was out by the window with orchids and lilacs, carefully uprooting the holly to exchange them for pinks and purples hues to match the new curtains the hired help put up just the day before. After a few sharp exchanges with that same boy, who shamelessly made himself comfortable in one of the outdoor tables, she ran back down the block.
Her last words echoed with a boom, "Just watch me!"
"There's not much to look at!" The waiter called back but he watched her retreating form until it disappeared behind leaves and petals. He kicked the cement, drawing a puff of dirt with his sneakers, and stomped inside.
Kilik stood behind the counter, rubbing a mug with a rag until it squeaked. The stool in front of him groaned in protest as his coworker hoisted himself up then immediately let his head drop, hiding his face between the wood and his arms.
The theatrics were like a constant reminder of Ms. "one sugar, but only after half milk and two sugars" who came with the winter. Her head would meet the table more often than not when her sister became too loud or demanding. He hadn't seen her in seven years but she lingered in his cafe like the crumbs in the corners.
"She's not doing the thing, right? Don't tell me she's going to try to do the thing because she can't do the thing," The thin white locks shook in denial. "Yellow and purple and pink can't possibly go together. She's going to ruin my color scheme."
"She's going to end up making it happen, Soul." Kilik kneeled down to rearrange the mugs. "Remember last autumn when you told her that purple and orange would never make a good arrangement but then she came in with—"
"Pansies. I was beaten by a bunch of pansies."
"And she brought in lotus flowers and daisies that naturally grew with those colors to be set on each table." Kilik pushed up his glasses, smirking at the sound of rhythmic banging on the counter. He turned down the music just enough to hear the angry mutterings of his coworker.
"I. Fucked. Up." Soul smashed his forehead against the counter in time with his chant for a good minute.
The bells tinkled as the sound of wheels came to a halt. Kilik wiped his hands on his apron and stood up from his spot. A tall girl held yellow tulips in her arms and she squatted down to position them by the door. Golden buds covered her face but Kilik could tell she wasn't anyone from town.
Another girl, covered in dirt, marched towards Soul as he glared at her approach from under his arm. She smacked her hand against the counter and gestured towards her red wagon positioned under the window. "Behold! The yellow flowers of your doom."
Soul peeked at the blooms and grimaced. "The worst possible plant you could've chosen to go with lilac and orchids. Way to fail, Maka."
"On the contrary, Watson!" She was practically vibrating with excitement. "I knew you'd say that, but if I plant them behind the rest and closest to the window, they'll frame the other flowers and the curtains perfectly!"
"Prove it, Sherlock."
Maka grabbed Soul by the cuff of his white shirt and yanked him off the stool, giving Kilik a quick wave on her way out. Just before she passed the girl knelt on the floor though, Maka jabbed her thumb behind her, "Liz? After you introduce yourself, can you come and help?"
"Yeah."
In that breath, visions of holly and candy canes washed over Kilik. He smelled the peppermint infused coffee he used to serve over ten years ago, placing the very drink in front of a girl with blonde hair. When he asked her if it tasted well, she asked with a blush and a very shy "yeah", even though Kilik dumped his own cup into the holly.
It sounded just like the girl who answered Maka.
She stood up to her full length and brought her hand behind her neck, flipping her hair with a flourish. Her heels clicked as she zigzagged her way through the tables and made her way to the dumbstruck master-in-training.
They never broke eye contact once she stopped just a foot away from the counter. Her sharp eyes betrayed her as recognition registered. Kilik didn't know there could be so much warmth in blue that resembled frost. She cocked one hip to the side and leaned on her left leg, placing her hand on her waist.
"You came back." Kilik didn't know whether to hug her or to condemn her for leaving without a trace, but she was here now. She's here now.
"I almost didn't recognize you there, four eyes." Her voice was like the arctic winds. It pierced through the air and stirred him awake as if he'd been in hibernation since she left.
"Liz? Is that… your name?"
She pouted, "It's been seven years but you've already forgotten?"
"Well, you never told me so I can't exactly forget what I never knew."
A tint of pink spread across her cheeks and over her nose. It was the blush that haunted his childhood and filled his lungs with honey. "I guess that's the best thing about being kids. You don't give a shit about the name, just how they treat you. How about a drink between old friends?"
The customer is out to have a good time so we gotta make sure they get it.
"O-of course! Would you like hot chocolate? Or coffee? I- I mean on these days I like coffee more but it's up to you. I'll make any drink you want! I think there's some leftover eggnog…" Kilik turned around to face the wall.
"How about some coffee?"
He smiled, "Black with one sugar?"
"It's an acquired taste. It reminds me of a great family who helped mine through the winter."
No one is bad, they just need a little push in the right direction.
Muscle memory filled their mugs to the brim with dark, rich coffee. He dropped a cube of sugar in her cup and swirled it with a teaspoon. "My family served two girls once or twice when I was younger. They were our best customers."
Liz pulled a stool out and balanced on the cushion. Her nails tapped on the wood in time with the saxophone. "As part of a charity service or something, we were taken in by a chairman and his kid. The boy saw us hanging around this shop and suddenly felt a burst of generosity." Her tapping slowed. "We were really lucky."
Special guests deserve special treatment. Treat them special.
He walked around to place the mug in front of her. The spoon hung from his mouth and warmed his tongue as he watched her blow the steam away. He took the seat next to her while she raised the mug to her lip.
"Is it good?"
Her hair hid her face while she leaned in. The light that refracted from the window made her seem ethereal, like she could vanish in the next second. She tucked the loose strands behind her ear to reveal a smile. It was one that could make snow melt and flowers bloom.
A bell tinkled somewhere as she glanced over at Kilik.
"Yeah."
Each person must leave with a smile. There are no exceptions to this rule.