Whipping around the corner in a flash, the brown-haired girl flew down the cracked pavement, hardly taking in any of her surroundings as she skipped from stone to stone, sliding riskily between the pedestrians that strolled leisurely towards her. Each one offering a different, perplexed stare as she swept by before flinging herself around the next corner and barrelling down the following street, almost tackling an elderly woman as she moved.

“Sorry!!” Was all Blaire managed to cry over her shoulder towards the incensed pensioner, then vanishing from sight into the oncoming crowd.

Although she was rapidly beginning to run out of breath, a quick check of her watch renewed her efforts and her pace continued. “Not again, not again… crap, crap, cra-“ Beads of sweat upsurged and glistened across her exposed brow as her fringe blew up over her scalp. Her tanned features now flushed to a darkening shade around her cheeks and forehead.

Step after step, Blaire’s breathing worsened and her footfalls became heavier and less precise, making her both clumsier and increasingly reluctant to call out apologies to the bystanders she hassled. Although that didn’t halt the guilt she felt for causing them grief.

She checked her watch once more, eyes widening as her window closed more and more. “—it’s okay, I’ll… I’ll make it…” She wheezed out, in an effort to reassure herself as time ticked away before her eyes.

After several more streets, the petite girl finally screeched to a grinding halt outside a small, unremarkable café. Her thick-soled boots catching against the uneven slabs and smoothing out any remaining rubber groves beneath the well-loved footwear. What’d once been a textured and imposing sole now looked anything but, even if the neck of the boot still held some impressive power to it. Clashing dramatically with her own reserved presence.

Above her, the intermittently flashing sign beckoned her inside as the purple neon ‘CA_LA’S’ burned bright. Still missing the illuminated ‘R’ that had ceased functioning several weeks back. But Blaire didn’t mind. She was just glad to have made it. And after checking her watch one final time, the exhausted pixie forced a relieved sigh and slipped passed the ornate door, prompting a jingle from the bell above the entrance.

Inside the café, things were much the same as they ever were. Never truly packed with patrons, yet always seeing to manage a steady supply of customers eager to secure their morning order following the arduous school run or ahead of the mad dash to beat the rush hour traffic. Blaire always found herself in the latter, although burdened by the additional issue of her order’s specificity. But for the first time this week, she was sure she’d left enough time for it. And if they’d already stopped providing for it, well, she’d… she’d… probably just say nothing and sulk on her commute instead. Much as Blaire would love to think she’d demand what she sought or even cause a scene in the process, the timid girl knew there was no chance of that. She’d sooner rob the place than draw that much attention to herself. And there was no chance in hell of her doing something that brazen.

Having instinctually joined the diminishing queue upon entering, Blaire operated on autopilot as she started to examine her environment a little more thoroughly. Gazing around wistfully and moving only when the line thinned and her placement shifted ever closer to the counter at the far end of the humble establishment.

Whether it was an indictment on her or more upon Carla’s patrons, she was definitely starting to recognise people here. And really hoped the same wasn’t true of her.

She’d been coming to Carla’s ever since moving here, and even though the café had gone through several remodelling attempts, each one prompted by a change in management, the vibe and layout remained mostly untampered with.

Situated on the bottom corner of an average city block, the little place had always drawn her eye even before she ever stepped foot inside. With its constantly occupied booths, delightful and comfy, planted behind each of the exterior windows. Each one panelled with ornate wood and engraved to match the door frame. On the far side wall, a small, modest counter on which all manner of cakes and goodies were placed after being carried out from the kitchen, which wasn’t sealed away like some establishments, but instead left open for all to observe and for all the sublime aromas to flood out.

Naturally, the café door was positioned on the near-sided wall, flanked by large windows on either side and lying beyond it, the main counter. Separated from the kitchen behind by a waist-high barrier, with only a single, saloon-like door allowing passage between them. It meant only one member of staff could pass at a time, but given the audience the place drew, there were never too many people required to cover their bases. At least from what Blaire could tell.

Besides that, the area out front wasn’t particularly spacious, permitting only a single member of staff to serve at any one time, but the demand was rarely extreme enough to cause any issues. Though she’d never been to one, it reminded her of certain American diners in its essence, for one reason or another, even if the appearance was quite different.

“Next!” A voice rang out, shaking Blaire back into the present.

She was now feet away from the counter, so hastily trotted forwards and smiled reluctantly. The middle-aged woman opposite her looked a little weary as she tapped at the till, perhaps having already worked a long shift by the time Blaire had arrived. Yet, she seemed to perk up as she flicked her eyes up to the wall clock and spoke again before Blaire had a chance to speak. Ahh, customer service mode, she thought to herself.

“Sorry, hun. Just one moment,” she said, holding up a calloused palm, then leaning back and calling out over her shoulder. “Kirsty! Can you cover front? I’ve gotta take my break?”

It was a few seconds before any response came, during which Blaire politely bowed her head and placed her hands behind her back, rocking from side to side as she pretended to be engrossed in the choice of flooring.

“Can’t! I’m sorting the next batch.” A call came back, amidst much clattering and clanking from out of sight. “Hang on, lemme grab the new girl. Oi, blondie! Aimée!”

“What is it?” Another voice joined the chorus, considerably less urgent than the first.

“Mary needs you out front.”

“Right now?”

Another pause. “Uh no, in about, uhh, fifteen minutes? Of course, ‘right now’! Get your butt out there.”

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ve got it.”

The lady behind the till looked around impatiently, bouncing her leg and refusing to meet Blaire’s meek gaze as they both awaited the nearing footsteps. Intentionally or otherwise, either way, the shorter of the two was quite happy to avoid any unnecessary socialising whilst she waited to be served.

Moments later, the double-action doors swung open wide and a new figure stepped out over the threshold, behind speedily brushed past by the previous woman who’d been operating the till. Mary, presumably. And that Kirsty was still in the back. So that meant the new figure had to be…

“Heya! Sorry about the wait. I’m Aimée. How can I help ya?”

Although she’d been more than ready to offer her order to the previous member of staff, the new person’s presence had absolutely thrown her for a loop. Inadvertently causing Blaire’s mouth to dry up and for her whole body to clench as she processed the figure now standing before her, already able to feel her palms clamming up. The two of them were separated by little more than a slim counter and a matter of feet, but it felt a whole lot less than that now.

The previous lady had seemed a little irritable but not unapproachable. Fairly plain looking and obviously tired, as Blaire had noted earlier. Yet her replacement was… well, anything but. The only similarity between the two was the deep burgundy, collared shirts they each wore, accented by the perfect white of the aprons around their midriffs, covering up the black skirt below. Though with the counter between them, Blaire couldn’t see anything below that.

For a start, she stood a good head’s height above Blaire, at least, and that was with the brunette wearing some of her chunkier boots that easily added an inch or two to her diminutive frame of little above five foot. From there, the comparisons only became starker, as her eyes caressed every inch of the girl it was possible to take in. Any sense of time slipped away from her as Blaire did all she could to avoid her jaw sliding open like some cartoon character.

Her bright blonde hair appeared simultaneously longer and shorter than that of Blaire’s own conservative brown locks, with much of its seeming to spring out little more than a few inches from her scalp, a tad messily, excluding two measured strands sprouting out from either side of her head. The tips of which trailed down neatly to hang over her temples and landed just above her chest. Framed by her hair and sparkling at the centre of her face, the blonde’s emerald eyes glimmered as they caught the morning rays creeping in from outside, illuminating the rest of her face in the process. Her softly pointed nose, smooth jawline, and slim lips all worked in harmony, along with the surrounding, warmth of her skin that glowed faintly. It wasn’t quite a tan, nor the lack of one, just simply a subtle, tasteful bronzing, the likes of which Blaire had seen her friends acquire after extensive time spent out beneath the rays and less from any deliberate manifestation.

“Erm, hello? You still with me there?” The blonde girl’s voice called from afar, intruding upon her thoughts.

It took Blaire another few moments to realise just what was going on and yet another few on top of that to regain control of herself. Even if her throat still hadn’t quite recovered from the initial encounter, and the shock that rolled in with it, she still tried to respond.

“I— *cough*, yes, I’m… sorry.”

The girl smiled politely, her pupils opening up a little more. “That’s alright, don’t sweat it. Now, what can I get you? Did you need any help deciding, or are you something of a regular?”

Her throat was getting better, but still not entirely cooperating the way she needed it to.

“I’m a… you know…” Blaire was still grasping for words as she drifted back down to reality, waving a little with her hands as if that might’ve brought the phrase she was looking for, prompting another smile to bloom upon the blonde’s features.

“A regular. I figured. So, what’ll it be? I’d start recommending you specials, but I bet you already knew what you wanted before I started work, huh?”

Blaire was honestly thrown quite off balance by just how forthcoming her conversational partner insisted on being. Not that the shorter of the two couldn’t engage in a conversation, even if she’d rather not more often than not, but the sheer effortlessness with which this girl breezed through her lines was quite intimidating. Almost suffocating compared with Blaire’s usual interactions with strangers.

She forced a bit of a light chuckle, admitting to the blonde’s suspicions. “Heh, yeah, I g-guess?”

Again, those thin lips smiled right through her. That green gaze burning a hole right through her forehead.

“Well then, what’ll it be?”

Fortunately able to get away without as many words now, Blaire simply pointed to her order with a slender finger, before adding, “Just without normal milk. Oat, if you’ve got it?”

The girl named Aimée spun around and followed the angle of Blaire’s gesture to the nearby board outlining most of the options someone could’ve ordered. Even placing her own paler finger upon the exact spot to which the shorter girl had directed. Only now the blonde’s face dropped the smile somewhat.

“Ahh, sorry. We stopped doing that like five, maybe ten, minutes ago?” She explained, stepping back to the countertop. “Not sure why we only serve that one up to a certain time, but…” She then shrugged, as if to conclude her musings.

Blaire drew up her wrist frantically and stared through her watch. Although she didn’t make a sound, her despair was quite apparent even to the girl opposite her. Her shoulders sank and her brown skin lost much of the vibrance it possessed. Blaire looked entirely crestfallen, even if she was too reserved to admit it verbally. She was certain she'd made it on time. There was no way she'd missed it!

“I… oh…”

She lifted her head a bit, trying to muster a smile, but getting nowhere fast. “D-Don’t worry about it then… I’ll just—“

“Wait a sec,” the blonde cut her off, now frowning in place of her deeper stare. “Let me… let me see what I can do. Hold on. Don’t move an inch.”

Blaire did as she was told, not entirely sure why, but taking orders from the blonde seemed to happen almost on instinct. Not to mention it sounded like she was used to telling people what to do.

Aimée turned and pushed herself through the doors behind the counter, leaning inside as she started to speak to the people in the back. This also now revealed a little more of the rest of her figure to Blaire, who was still stood still and trying not to look at her server too much, in case she seemed rude. However, the blonde’s cute choice of tights and flats couldn’t help but catch her eye. As did her rather impressive rear that struggled to hide just above the lip of the skirt.

“Hey! Any chance we can do any more of number four?”

“Nope,” a voice called back quickly, sounding like the one that’d summoned Aimée originally. “That’s only for a limited time each day. No can do, I’m afraid.”

“Come ooooon!” The blonde bargained, before shooting a sly glance over her should and catching Blaire’s eyes searching where they probably ought not to have been. “It’s for a friend. She’ll be devastated, and it’s only like five minutes over.”

The pause between responses was a little longer this time, though covered up by much clanking and clanging from out of sight.

“It’s for a friend?”

“Yeah!”

Again, relative silence. And then…

“Uhhh, fine. But don’t blame me if Mary gets stressy about it.”

“She can blame me if it’s a problem,” Aimée reassured, turning back around and drawing Blaire’s surprised gaze back up to her own eyes. And then flashing the subtlest of winks before reaching the counter again.

“That’ll be three pound, ten pence.”

Blaire was in a state of shock for the second time since encountering the blonde now, only this time due to the baffling generosity she’d just displayed. She didn’t even know her, and yet…

“Y-You… you didn’t need to do that…” Blaire whispered, absolutely mortified at the prospect of her having caused someone any manner of grief for her own benefit. But she was quickly waved away with a smirk.

Reaching into her pocket, the brunette passed the coins over the counter, placing them directly onto the girl’s waiting palm. She wasn’t quite sure why she’d done it, normally preferring to pay contactless or simply place the change upon the countertop and slide it over. But for some reason or another, she felt compelled to meet the exchange as she did. Feeling her own darker skin brush up against the blonde’s paler, cooler flesh.

The two locked eyes for a fraction of a second. Green clashing with hazel. Not staring away nor crossing incidentally, but a deliberate melding of gazes. Until Blaire pulled her sight down to the ground and to that of her own shuffling feet, only sneaking another look seconds later to realise the girl’s glittering eyes were still staring back at her. And the look they imbibed was no longer one of passive warmth but something altogether different. More deliberate than before. Was it intrigue, or confusion? No, it was something more intense than that. Maybe…

“Just a sec,” she finally spoke, snapping her hand shut and turning away to fiddle with the machine to her side.

Her fingertips tapped away out of sight, only briefly having been visible to Blaire. Mostly due to their chipping red polish catching the light in much the same way her eyes did. Although not nearly to the same dazzling extent.

As she deposited the payment, the shorter girl couldn’t be certain, but it looked to Blaire as if the blonde was suddenly standing a little lopsidedly. As if one of her legs was longer than the other, or she was putting more of her weight down on one foot instead of the other. Maybe it was just an issue with her flats, but the strange thing was that she hadn’t looked like it moments earlier. For the rest of their conversation, the blonde had looked perfectly level, and yet now stood lopsidedly.

It was probably nothing, but her curious brain made note of it all the same. Maybe one shoe was just a little more worn than the other. God knows Blaire could relate to that, having had more than her fair share of issues with her own footwear choices in recent months. Not least concerning the stifling boots she now wore.

“Right, that’s all done,” she said, looking up from the till. “Let me just see if Kirsty’s got your order.”

And then she did exactly that, returning a couple of moments later with the beverage in hand. Although this time she didn’t hold her hand out to meet Blaire’s, instead placing the drink on the counter and sliding it over to her.

“There you are…” Her eyebrows raised, clearly expecting a response from her customer.

“Oh! B-Blaire,” she said, before adding a quick note of thanks for her help. “You really didn’t need to do that. I c-could’ve gone without.”

“Nonsense. Happy to lend a hand... Blaire.” Her smile was back to beaming now, even as she jumped a little. “Oh, and I almost forgot,” the girl said abruptly, twirling to snatch something from the surface to her side. “Your receipt.”

“It’s quite alright, you can keep it, thanks.”

Aimée smiled a little more forcefully, tilting her head a little and catching the morning light on a different part of her iris.

“I’d much rather you hold onto it, if that’s alright.”

Blaire wasn’t quite sure how to take that, tipping her own head as she processed the words. “…I don’t…”

“Trust me. Just, yanno, give it a once over. Check everything’s in order. Goodness knows I’d hate for you to miss anything important…”

Once again, Blaire was finding her compelled to follow the girl’s words, whether she actually wanted to or not. Charisma seemed like too light of a word from the vibes she was feeling radiating onto her. But still, she offered a smile back and nodded, taking the receipt into her hand as she departed the café.

And as she gripped the door handle, she tried to stop herself from looking back but found her own willpower rather lacking. So shooting a look over her shoulder and finding the blonde still looking right back at her, even whilst serving the next customer.

Stepping back into the street, Blaire ducked out of the open onslaught of pedestrians and into a side street, taking the first sip of her drink and feeling all her building nerves settle down dramatically. If she’d known her experience at Carla’s would’ve been that intense, she probably would’ve just taken the hit in skipping it today. However, then she remembered the slightly crumpled paper still clutched in her free palm.r32;

Drawing it out, the printed record seemed to be as she’d expected. The correct price, the correct order. All the usual, unchanged as ever. However, as she peered more closely, Blaire spotted the faintest of outlines peaking through the rear of the paper, though it remained a little hard to decipher.r32;

Until she flipped it around, of course.

Hastily scrawled, hardly fitting onto the lower corner of the receipt, were two individual bits of text. The first, letters, and the second, numbers.

The former, five simple letters.

“AIMÉE”. Perhaps a formality, though legibly written and with a flourish over the accent. An effort to foster good relations between staff and customers, Blaire reasoned, quite understandably. Until those thoughts were instantly undermined by the series of numbers jotted beneath the name.

It couldn’t be. Surely not. But it looked… almost like… a phone number?

Blaire let out a little yelp, almost dropping her drink as she clutched the paper close to her chest, as if trying to shield it from anyone else’s wandering eyes. Then darting her gaze from side to side. But of course, not a single person paid her any mind.

Then slowly, carefully, she drew her hand back from her chest and peeked again. Flicking her eyes down and then replacing her clammy palm above her breast. There was absolutely no denying it. The girl’s name, and her number.

Blaire’s stomach fluttered as she gulped unnecessarily hard. Her heart skipping one beat after another as she processed things. Was this an accident? No, it couldn’t be. Had the blonde girl been hitting on her? Was that why she’d been acting so nice and… and…

Flustered didn’t quite do justice to the visible distress coursing through Blaire’s body.

She let out a withering sigh. How on earth was she supposed to get any work done today after this?!