Chapter Text
"Yugi! We need you back on the floor, pronto!"
I feel my body immediately tense up, preparing for a fight. You have to be kidding me? Malik's joking, right? My friend of two years (who doubles as my boss during the day) is playing some cruel prank on me; he must be.
"But I literally just went on my break!" I yell at him through the office door, trying my darn hardest to suppress the hiss that threatened to follow.
"Don't care!" A ruffled mop of blondish hair comes into view, and Malik pops his head into the office to shoot me an annoyed look. "We're short and four customers just walked in. I need you, now."
My stomach growls in protest, and the omelet I just had the cooks whip up is teasing me from it's spot on the wooden office desk. "Damn it, Malik, I'm hungry. I've been on my feet for six hours now, and I'm entitled to a breakkkk."
Ask me if I give a damn that I'm pretty much whining at this point. Please.
"Too bad," he snaps at me. "You can eat later and if you have a problem with that, you can write a complaint about it, but if your ass isn't on the floor in the next five minutes, you'll be finding another couch to crash on tonight."
Yup. I do it. I hiss at him. "Fine," I concede.
Y'know, sometimes I wish I could tag out of life.
Like, just sink to the floor in one giant hot mess of limbs and thud my forehead against the wall, over and over and over again. It would be the equivalent of me just throwing my hands up in the air and saying 'Alright, life! You win!'
I sigh and turn to snatch up my server's apron. As I tie it around my waist, I make sure to mumble under my breath just loud enough for Malik to hear. He does, and my reward for my childish antics is a roll of his murky lavender eyes, moments before he pops his head back out of the office.
I have to admit; knowing that I've annoyed him makes me feel a little bit better.
Back out on the diner's floor, I find Joey, host extraordinaire, leaning up against the wooden panels. He's chewing on the end of his pen, and his fingers are stuffed deep in the front pockets of his faded jeans. "What tables?" I ask him, then I take a breath to try to soften the hard edge of my voice.
Joey glances down at me, and his lips curve into an amused smile.
"What?" I grunt in response to his expression.
"Oh, nada," he lies, but I honestly don't have it in me to try to figure out what he's up to.
I just want to eat.
And quit.
But I need this job, serving patrons breakfast and coffee and brunch specials, because it helps to pay for my college tuition. And given that I don't have the energy or desire to be a male stripper, this job was going to have to do until I found another way to pay my bills.
"You got three at Table 2, and one at Table 5." Joey's amber eyes are dark with mischief. "Good luck," he says, winking at me.
Then, he pushes off the wall and goes back to his host stand by the front door.
I have this overwhelming desire to punch him, just because I want to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.
Good luck? What was he getting at here? Were my friends trying to piss me off today? I mean, really, did Malik even realize that he was putting everyone within a mile radius in jeopardy by denying me my lunch? He pretty much just guaranteed that I would wind up offending all of my customers for the rest of my shift.
The customers...
Who were eating their meals...
Mocking me...
I huff, annoyed, and flip open my waiter's pad as I walk mindlessly to Table 5.
"Welcome to Valentine's." I start the robotic introduction and glance up at the patron and -
Oh...
I blink.
Then, I blink again, just to make sure I'm not seeing things and that yes, this man sitting at Table 5 is indeed sex personified. Chocolate cherry eyes, a 'I basically live on the sun' tan, and a styled mane of smoky ebony and delicious honey. My chest constricts with the oddest sensation, and my heart feels like it has just decided not to work anymore. This man is a gift from the Gods, no doubt, and he was practically being presented to me in pristine wrapping and a neat little bow - or in this case, a pair of dark black slacks and a brisk white button-up.
Well, helloooo Mr. Tall Glass of Water.
"Do you intend to stare at me much longer?" he speaks, and my knees are suddenly putty. Like, no. You can't have a voice like that. Its a felony, I'm sure of it. "I only have thirty minutes for my break," he continues, and only then do I snap out of my daze.
As I'm brought back to earth, kicking and screaming, I feel my face burn a furious red. If people could die from embarrassment, I would be on the floor and someone would be calling 9-1-1.
"Oh, yes, sorry." I collect myself as much as I can, but that's not saying much. "What can I get you?"
"A bagel will do," he replies, his voice the finest silk. "And a coffee, please. Black."
"You got it," I say, ducking my head down and scribbling his order across my pad. I risk another quick glance at him from underneath my bangs, because I'm an idiot and I want to look at him a little longer. I find his eyes once again and smile at him, and something in those wondrous spheres glitters and oh my god, he's beautiful.
He's silently watching me now and, under his gaze, I can't find it in myself to move. I want to open my mouth and say something; anything to break the spell that he's slowly casting on me with those brilliant eyes of scarlet. The feeling in my chest is blooming now, creating tingly sensations of both warmth and cold. I can't tell if I want to shiver or take layers of clothes off.
He seems unaware of this internal conflict he's inflicting upon me and continues to stare me down. I keep his eye contact, too powerless to break it, and he offers me a small tilt of his head with a squint of his eyes. He looks as if he's contemplating something, and the silence that stretches in between us suddenly becomes electric. If either of us so much as uttered a syllable, I'm nearly positive we'd both be shocked.
"Attention customers!" Joey's voice comes over the intercom, and the abruptness of it manages to bring me out from the depths of those bright rubies. "I'm sorry, but for your own safety, I need everyone to stand clear of the sparks flyin' at Table 5. Your cooperation is much appreciated! Thank you and please enjoy the rest of your meals!"
How many different ways can you murder your best friend?
The burn in my cheeks comes back with a vengeance, and if someone told me at this moment that my face was actually on fire, I would've believed them.
It is to my absolute relief (and whining libido) that the stranger chuckles, his lips pulling into the most delectable smirk. "Friend of yours?" he asks me.
"No." Future missing person though? Most definitely. "U-uh, I'm going to put that order in for you. My name is Yugi if you need anything else."
"Yugi," he repeats, and Jesus, who knew my name could roll off someone's tongue like that?
I don't give myself the chance to embarrass myself any further and scurry away from him to the safety of the front counter.
Or at least, I thought it was safe.
"He's watchin' you," Joey murmurs to me, as I'm tapping the order into the computer.
I cut my eyes sharply to him. "You're an asshole, you know that?"
Joey puts his hands up and grins at me, as if he's completely innocent of any wrongdoing. He opens his mouth to respond and I glare at him even harder, daring him to defend himself. He doesn't, but his smile does widen and he slaps me once on the back, before returning to his station.
I don't dare turn my head to look at the handsome patron again, but I soon realize that I do have to bring him his food when the cooks call out his order not five minutes later. I carry the bagel and cup of coffee over to him with shaky hands and for the love of everything, please let me not spill this coffee all of his pressed, expensive-looking white shirt.
"Can I get you anything else?" I prompt him, but only after I set the coffee mug on the table without incident.
His cheek tics and the corner of his lips pull into the smallest smile. "No, thank you," he says, still smiling at me; staring at me like I am the only other person in this entire diner.
I consider for a moment that I am dead.
Yes, that must be it. I have died and have gone to heaven and this is what heaven looks like. I am totally okay with that.
"Yugi! Table 2 needs ya!"
I'm actually grateful for Joey's voice this time around, because God only knows how long I've been standing at Table 5 at this point, hovering over this man like I've never seen another human before.
I pluck his tab from my waiter's pad and place it on the edge of his table, my eyes averting from his, as I turn to take care of my other customers that I completely forgot about. It probably takes me fifteen minutes to write down their order, enter it into the computer, and bring them out their food, because you know, breakfast food takes next to no time to make. But even so, by the time I return out to the floor, the handsome mystery man is gone.
My heart sinks into my stomach, but I try to ignore it, because I really can't afford to swim in a sea of disappointment right now. I allow myself the sigh that flows past my lips and walk over to the now empty table to pick up the tab - and wouldn't you know it? A name scribbled at the bottom of the receipt in beautiful cursive with a phone number attached.
Atem Sennen.
A flood of heat flushes into my bloodstream to pool into the pit of my stomach, and my insides suddenly feel hot and tight. Might as well have been named Sex.
I bite my bottom lip, as I sort out the sudden influx of feelings rushing over me. It takes me a few minutes - okay, an hour really of fidgeting with the small piece of paper, before I make the decision to crumble it into a small ball and toss it into the trash. As absolutely stunning and intoxicating as that stranger - Atem - was, I need to keep my sanity intact, please and thank you. My life is hectic enough as is. Last thing I need is for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome to take my heart and smash it into pieces.
Yeah, I think to myself, glancing at the trash. I'm all set.