Title: Possibilities
Prompt: An hour into her new job and Sakura's already regretting giving customer service a chance. Did she just want to get through her first day without any incidents? Yes. But somehow, some almighty power must be testing her today because a group of cool kids around her age decided to be obnoxious and act like they owned the place. But there was one boy in particular whose very appearance screamed "MONEY." He was quiet unlike the rest but he wasn't telling them not to be loud either. She narrowed her eyes. Probably their ring leader. The manager immediately turned to Sakura and handed her a pad of paper and a pencil. "Take their orders. Be as polite as you can be, especially to the quiet one over there. Don't ask them to pay. Just say that it's on the house" he instructed.
Idea: Anonymous on Tumblr
There's no missing the ruckus that comes from the group of males. Pale green find themselves following their movements headed for a booth and there's a groan within her mind at watching them within their loud and obnoxious movements. A pale pink brow can only raise as she leans against the counter with her hands deep within the pockets of the forest green apron wrapped upon her hips in the mostly dead, quaint and homey diner she had caved and decided to work at part-time as she went to college.
Training had gone quickly, and it was her first day out taking customers without shadowing another server—waitress, let's be real here in saying there's no reason to try to pretty the term up. She's not sure who she has managed to anger within the ever vast spectrum of gods to give her such a loud group on her first day but there's only the silent plea that maybe someone else will take them off her hands feeling sorry for her.
The blonde is all noise, and all loud, and the brunette is no better—they're bickering like absolute children. The slightly heavier one is whining, and the one with pulled back locks is letting out a groan—they truly were creating just as much noise as the other two. Then there's the one within the middle of it all stuck between the loud blonde and the one with pulled back locks of hair. He's calm, and he's collected. He's got his elbows on the table with threaded fingers—he's not speaking a word among those creating such noise within the restaurant.
There's the urge to snort but her mother taught her better than to do that in public. She can only guess they're around her age, and that only furthers to plunge her within the dread of having to take them. Running her tongue across her teeth she cannot help but feel as though the one stuck within the midst of the group has to be the one calling the shots—was that even a thing still in college?
Pale green can only continue to digest him with the deep navy beanie upon his head hiding most of his obsidian locks, and layered look of white under shirt peaking out from the navy sweater he's sporting. The watch upon his wrist is the next thing she catches. It looks expensive and that absolutely screams trouble if her mother taught her anything else outside of lady like appearances when in the public eye.
There's no stopping the exhale that comes from her blowing her pale pink locks from her eyes before her manager is beside her. The tightened jaw only seeks to feed her soon to be demise at serving them. The pad of paper and pencil are easily shoved to her forcing her to take her hands out from her apron to grip what they've pushed upon her.
"Take their orders—make sure you're as polite as possible especially with the quiet one. They're not to pay it's on the house, and for god's sake smile." the hushed whisper is far from what she would have expected, and it only serves to make her believe even more that taking this job was a mistake—why didn't she apply at a book store?
A deep in hale to settle her nerves and then she's moving forward making her way to their table. There's no missing their eyes upon her and it instantly reminds her to smile. It's cheap, and it's as fake as one could get but she can only hope it doesn't look as bad as she knows it is.
They quiet down as she stands before them with the pad and paper out and ready to scribble their order down, "Welcome, my names Sakura, and I'll be your server. What can I get for you today?" she's beaming at them loosing a touch of the cheapness as her voice comes out to help in making her look at the more happy to assist them.
There's the oddest hesitation she hadn't expected from a group like this but then it's gone as fast as it had come with the slightly heavier one requesting everything from an appetizer to the thickest burger they have on the menu with additions of doubling the meat, cheese, mayonnaise, and cut the onions. The blonde, and the brunette don't give her half as much trouble. The one with pulled back locks is simple in his request for the fajita wrap, and then it's all eyes on the man in the middle who's yet to remove his eyes from her as she has made her way to each of them.
That hesitation is there, and it almost makes her question if there is something on her face—maybe she got something on her white button up shirt while making a new batch of coffee?
The clearing of his voice causes her to come back from her thoughts and then there's no stopping her eyes from following one of his hands leaving the company of the other to rest upon the table.
"Coffee—black. Chicken pasta with extra sauce, and tomatoes—add extra tomatoes to the side salad too." his voice is far smoother than it should be allowed, and the firmness in his voice is absolutely unmissable.
"Will that be all?" her voice is tight within its reply feeling caught within her throat.
"Yes." there's no room for question with a voice that smooth and commanding.
"I'll put that in now." she swears if the heat on her cheeks is a blush she's going to have some very firm words of her own for herself within the backroom.
There's the turn to move and then the call of the blonde, "You new?"
The smiles back within its needed place as she turns to respond with a hum, "Ah, yes today's my first day."
It's when the blonde doesn't look to say another word that she's off grabbing their drinks, and putting in for their appetizer. They're back to being obnoxious once more, and even at her station she can hear the brunette poking fun at one of the other boys.
The tray is balanced relatively easily within her palm as she slides her pad within her pocket. She's quick in bringing their drinks, and the call for their appetizer as her shuffling back relatively easily. There's the oddest feeling of eyes upon her but she's quickly dismissing it as she slides the side salad with extra tomatoes, and potato wedges upon her tray next.
She's gentle in laying it down reciting the things the server she had trained with had said when explaining how to make sure nothing startled the guests. There's no missing obsidian as they watch her in these moments, and it only stands to make her feel self-conscious even more in these unpracticed movements. Pale green are fleeting in capturing that which eyes her with what she can only gauge as the smallest of interest with such a lackadaisical look upon his features before leaving their side once more.
Rolling silverware comes, and then two more guests that make it far easier to ignore the continued lingering feeling of being watched, and it's just as she's finished taking the new customer's orders that she hears her name being called for their food. There's a stop at their table noting his lack of coffee and then there is the grabbing of the empty plate of potato wedges, and mostly eaten salad.
The manager has made their to her asking how they're doing, and she's quick to respond all is fine feeling as if any other response could easily cost her this job—it only serves to make the hair on the back of her neck stand. She's stacking the plates and grabbing another tray with the manager assisting to make sure it's taken out promptly. The follow of her manager only makes her all the more nervous as she begins to dish it out. There's the silent wish that she had looked over her pad one more time, and yet she's managed to remember which order goes to who making her relish in not messing it up here and now.
She's quick to tell him she'll bring him more coffee with that same cheap in quality smile across her lips. It's really only a matter of seconds before she's back to their table and pour him more coffee and asking if they like the food. All but the male chewing away at his pasta, and the male of pulled back locks seemed to have never been taught to not speak with their mouth full. There's hope though that they can't possibly find the oxygen to continue such rowdy behavior while stuffing their faces.
Leaving their side there's that final moment of eyes no longer upon her, and it seems to wash some of the nervousness from her as she goes to get the food for her new customers. The quiet that comes within her tables is a welcomed change, and she can only thank the god who had seemed so merciless in hanging her these boys in the very beginning that nothing has gone wrong.
It's here and now that she find herself being the one to eye the male of obsidian locks. He eats far to perfect, and there's no stopping the slide of her pale green as his hand takes the fork to his lips. There's a moment when she notes him actually opening his mouth to say something to one of the others, and then his fingers are bringing that same fork up with a tomato to his mouth before she removes her eyes from it long enough to see him shifting his gaze to her.
That's all it takes to make her air catch within her throat and heat hit her cheeks before darting her eyes from him to look at the floor as if she had been caught stealing.
It's a couple minutes and then she dares to remove her eyes from the floor and those eyes of his have yet to leave her and only serves to make her fingers curl within the pockets of her apron. A thick swallow, and a shift from leaning against the counter and she's turning to make more drinks, and bring them out to replace the almost empty ones of his friends.
Replacing the blonde's is what makes his voice come out muffled by food, "So how old are you Sakura-chan?"
"I'm eighteen." she answers swapping more of their drinks out.
"You going to school in the area?" he's eyeing her so pointedly as he brings the burger to his mouth to take another bite.
"I am. I'm going to the University in the area for Pre-Med." the smile so cheap in quality is being replaced with a tint of genuine interest in this conversation.
"Oi! We go to that school." he's grinning within his eating, "That's super cool! Maybe we'll see you around!"
"Ah, it's a possibility." she got her knuckles pressed within her hip and her tray by her side, "Anything else I can get you, boys?"
"We're fine." the answer comes from the quietest member of the group as he brings the mug of coffee to his lips.
There's no awkward exchange of glances this round and she's feeling herself able to relax even more. Maybe she had judge them wrong. Maybe they weren't as bad as she had feared. Maybe she had let first day gitters get to her.
They finish their food without hassle, and only some bickering before she's come to grab their empty plates.
"Where's the bill?" she cannot help but muse over that commanding tone of his.
There's no hesitation in her response, "It's on the house. Let me know if you boys need anything else. If not have a good night."
She's left no room for discussion giving one more of her cheapest smiles and taking their stacked plates to the back to be washed. The playful banter of the washer is there and she can't help but let out a laugh as she exits that's far louder than she intended.
Turning the corner to finish cleaning up their table she cannot help but stop within her steps. They're all gone but him—the male with the expensive watch upon his wrist has his hands deep within his pockets as he leans against their table. The smile falls from her lips easily and she cannot seem to remember to plaster one upon her immediately as she had been told to do throughout this exchange of theirs.
There's a blink from her, and he's pushing off from the table as he comes closer to her and within her personal space. She had missed how much height this boy had had when he had entered it seems. He's towering at least a head above her. The firm pressed line of his lips can only make her question if she has said something to offend him, and there's the nervousness that comes as he leans in towards her never taking those eyes of obsidian from her.
"Serving is beneath you." he's whispering within the short distance between them.
Pale green can only widen at his words—what did this boy possibly know about her to make such comments? She's not even sure she's figured out how to breath with his earthly scent making its way into her nose, and it's just like that she feels his fingers within her apron and right back out.
He's finally made his way from her personal space, and there's the slightest touch of what she can only guess is the signs of a smirk upon the corners of his lips before walking passed her, "Have a goodnight Sakura."
There's the whip of her head to watch as he makes his way out the door. Her heart is hammering and she's more than positive that there's a blush upon her cheaks. He had had his hand within her apron and it's only now that she looks down to see what he had placed within it. The small roll of money makes her swallow thickly as she unrolls it to see how much he has given her, and it's as she does that, that she sees the slip of white tucked within it.
Pale green run over the slip with scribbled writing. He's left his name, and number upon this little piece of paper, and it only seeks to make her heart beat—if possibly—harder. There's the run of her tongue across her bottom lip as she reads out loud, "Sasuke. . .Uchiha."
It's the call of her manager scaring her half to death that makes her drop the slip only to reach down to pick it up. Running her thumb over the slip her eyes wander to the door he had exited.
Maybe she would call him.
Maybe she wouldn't.
She didn't need to decide right this second—she had the whole rest of her shift to argue with herself over the possibilities, after all.