This is merely something which I wrote over two nights, which I hoped would have given my brain some sort of inspiration to write something slightly more substantial than this, but alas! I have found that I cannot work miracles.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything unfortunately apart from the plot, everything else is J.K.R's and I'm making no profit out of it.

The water is already on by the time she stumbles through the door, chilled by the biting spring wind outside, she sits at a wooden table at the edge of the room. She smiles gratefully as I bring over the steaming cup of tea and place it on the saucer I'd just set down. Her eyes brighten as I bring the muffin out from behind my back and place it in front of her too.

She sets down the leather covered book embossed with peeling gold letters, on the table next to the pale tea. Her hands wind around the mug, seeking its heat. She sips from it occasionally wincing from the scalding her tongue is getting. Her hands set it down, reaching for the dark book; she shifts in her seat as she turns to a page. I can see the pages curling, the colour fading into a warm yellow.

"What's that you're reading today?" I ask.

"The Quest for Avalon"

"Good?"

"So far" is her reply.

I retreat back to the safety of my counter, the butter yellow daffodils grinning at me from their place by the window. I look over once more, her brow is furrowed, her lips tight, her hands turning the pages every so often. The tea sits silently, steaming away, awaiting its moment. At least she remembers that it's there, and without raising her eyes, her hand reach out, grab it and pull it back towards her body. The muffin as of yet, remains uneaten.

I count the pages, one, two, three, until I know she's reached fifty. It is then that I get up, teapot in hand and refill her cup. She looks up smiling in thanks, turns back to her book for a second before closing it and setting it down gently next to the cup. She sighs as she pulls the plate on which the muffin stands, closer to her. I frown. This was something new, but before I can question her, she smiles and waves away the concern in my eyes, blaming it on the book. I am undecided, yet I still nod and turn away.

The muffin has been eaten, now only the empty case, twisted into an unrecognisable shape, is left with some crumbs to accompany it. I take it away. She will call if she needs anything, and anyways she still has another fifty pages to go.

The final page turns and I am there, dutifully collecting her cup and saucer. She follows me back to the counter, gives me a kiss on the cheek and says she'll see me next Sunday. I wave her goodbye.

The water is already on as she steps into the café. However this time she isn't alone, a young man with a determined look on his face steps in after her, he looks around with mild contempt. I do not like him. She sits at a table in the center of the room; her usual table is left lonely and unoccupied in the corner. I switch off the water, sensing a change. I go up.

"Two coffees" the man says.

I still do not like him. I stare at her, trying to see what's happened. She does not look at me yet she shakes her head very slightly. I frown. She glances up and repeats the order. My frown deepens but I nod once and obediently turn away. This time there is no muffin, no book, no life.

As I continue on with my work the shop bell ringing, registers in my mind. I look up and freeze, she is walking out the door, with him at her back. She does not once turn around. Doesn't spare a glance at me and my tea towel clutched frozen in my hand. The door shuts.

I see her the next week with the same man. The same routine happens. This time I don't look up as she leaves yet I glance quickly at the window. The daffodils are wilting.

I do not see her again for a while. Weeks, months, years, who knows how long she was gone for? Until, a warm summer day brings her around again. This time however, she sits once more at her old abandoned table, she orders tea and pulls out another faded novel from times long passed. We easily fall back into the same routine. When she turns to the pale tea, she sighs happily and grins shyly at me. The daffodils have been replaced, she comments on. There are lilies in bloom. As she leaves she kisses my cheek and waves goodbye.

The weeks pass as we rebuild that quiet friendship which was too easily broken.

The morning is clear and warm for the first time that I meet him. She leads him into the café by his hand, and he looks around taking everything in. I'm beginning to like him. He can not be anymore different to the last guy she brought in here I think as she leads him to her usual table. I go over. She looks at him and he nods.

"Two teas please" she asks, grinning at me and I can't help but smile back.

The book is there, lying abandoned next to the tea cups, the muffin, shared between the two, is finished. She laughs delightedly and I can't help but like this blonde haired guy even more. She kissed my cheeks as she goes to leave, he nods in farewell. I'm still smiling as I collect their plates. I take them back to my counter and look over to the window and I smile. The lilies were still blooming.

--

It's a very short, odd little story here, I'm not sure if I like it or not but I can't help but feel happy after I've read it. I hope you do too.

xx