What's buried underneath?
folder
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
606
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
606
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
What's buried underneath?
This is my first attempt at this, please forgive me.
She woke up with that searing pain in her leg, again. She grimaced in her awakening state and immediately began to wiggle her toes in attempt to rid herself of the leg cramp that decided to take residence again. She glanced to the alarm clock to her left and covered her hands with her face in defeat. It was 3:33 in the morning, and ironically enough it was the third leg cramp since she went to bed three hours before hand. The first leg cramp came about at 1:11, the second one at 2:22, and predictably, the third at 3:33. Eight sighed and rolled out of bed, making sure to put as much weight as possible on her cramped leg. She stomped into her small and dark kitchen, opened a cupboard, took a small palm full of salt and lapped it up, trying not to retch as the bitter substance coated her tongue. She scowled even more when she remembered how she learned a small palm full of salt got rid of leg cramps. Her 'father' had taught her that when she went traveling with him one year and she woke up with one of her ridiculous leg cramps.
Eight poured herself a cup of cold coffee and confidently stomped over to her dingy kitchen table in the dark. She grabbed her chair, exactly where she knew it was, and sat down. The cold plastic shocked her nude thighs, but she knew she'd get adjusted quickly enough. She reached out for the sugar placed in the middle of the table and absentmindedly started pouring it into her coffee as she thought about her past. How her father liked to take her on day trips when he was in town. Once when she was very young, he took her on this old grid road, and pointed out an old dilapidating building.
"Keep watching this house, Eight!" he said as he went in a long loop around it. When they first approached it, it seemed to have been tilting towards them, but as they went around the loop it tilted with them in their rusty white truck. Eight squealed with delight, and asked to drive around it at least three more times.
Eight jumped as something cold started falling onto her hand.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath. She rolled her eyes and stood up, leg cramp subsiding, to get some paper towels. She had been so caught up down Memory Lane, she hadn't realized that she literally emptied the sugar canister into her mug of cold coffee. She mopped up the mess, but kept the paper towels on hand. She lifted the spoon set next to where the sugar canister usually sat and stirred her coffee slowly, careful not to spill much more. She mopped up the rest of that mess and instead of risking lifting the cup up to her mouth, she bent down and lapped up the coffee from the mug like a cat would. A little on the sweet side, even for her tastes (for she often put no fewer than 15 sugars into her coffee; her mom was constantly having kittens about Eight's insulin levels) but it would do for now.
As Eight sat in her kitchen, lapping up her cold coffee, her memory began to drift away back into the past. She sat up and slowly wrapped her hands around her mug of coffee as she thought.
Every time she drove past a dilapidating building, she couldn't help but watch if it tilted with her. Every time she got a leg cramp, which was far too often, she had a large amount of salt. Her father was diabetic, so she put 15 sugars in her coffee; her excuse was that she wanted to enjoy her sweets before she developed it, too.
And then she thought of another thing. Jason. She thought back to when they first met, at that coffee house down the road from her cramped basement suite. She had her day off and planned on just sitting in her second home, Coffee That Drinks You, writing. She went up to the till and began to order her usual extra large coffee and a large handful of sugars instead of going through the humility of asking for fifteen sugars. Even then, she'd usually have to go back for more packets. But this day, there wasn't the usual pink haired girl behind the till. This day there was probably the first male employee that the coffee shop had seen. Eight stared at him and seemed to have not realized that she stopped talking after she said "I'd like an extra large"¦."
"An extra large"¦. What? Hug? Plane? Elephant?" The boy teased her.
She shook her head no and said, "Coffee, please," forgetting all about her sugars. He smiled at her and rang up the total. She slowly and blindly pulled out a $20 and told him to keep the change. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and said, "An $18 tip on my first day? Are you sure? How do you know I won't spit in it?" She looked down and realized that he wasn't taking the bill from her hand.
"I trust you won't spit in it for an $18 tip," she slowly began to come to her senses and instead of taking the $20 and making an ass of herself, she persisted in him taking her biggest bill on her. He smiled coyly, turned away from her and began making her coffee.
He turned back around with her extra large in his hand and said as he handed it to her, "It's on the house. I'm about to go on my break in a few minutes, so if you're sticking around I'd love to join you."
"Uh-huh," was the only thing Eight was able to say. She sat down at her usual table in the corner and watched this new boy deal with the next customer. He was young, 21 at least, and one of the most gorgeous creatures Eight had ever had the pleasure of encountering. He had shaggy black hair that fell into his eyes, which were done up in eyeliner, and two rings on either side of his bottom lip. Eight fiddled with her own two lip rings done in a similar fashion and thought, "This is too good to be true. I didn't scare him off." She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. No sugar!! AT ALL!! And mister sexy pants saw her grimace. He winked and took off his apron as the usual pink haired girl took his station. The girl saw where he was heading and called him back. They talked for less than 30 seconds, she placed something in his hand, and went back to work. He walked over to Eight with a coffee of his own in his hand and a quizzical look on his face. He sat down across from her and put his hand in the middle of the table, letting go of 15 packages of sugar.
"Emily told me to bring these for you."
"She is a saint," Eight said with a big smile, eyeing up her prize (the sugar). She picked up 5 at a time, shook them, ripped open the top and poured the sweet white gold into the foul brown liquid she had accidently ingested without diluting. The boy stared at her in wonder as she poured three groups of five sugars into her coffee.
"Are you freaking serious?" He gaped at her as she finished stirring her coffee and took her first happy sip.
"Yes, I am freaking serious!!" She smiled at him and gulped down more coffee.
"So have you got a name?" She finally asked. She didn't know where this sudden burst of confidence came from, considering she was a stuttering and bumbling idiot just minutes before. "˜What ever, go with the flow,' she thought.
"My name is Jason, and yours?" he said with a lopsided smile, offering his hand over top of their respective coffees.
"Eight," she said with an even bigger smile as she took his hand.
--------
Like I said, first attempt. Be kind. :).
She woke up with that searing pain in her leg, again. She grimaced in her awakening state and immediately began to wiggle her toes in attempt to rid herself of the leg cramp that decided to take residence again. She glanced to the alarm clock to her left and covered her hands with her face in defeat. It was 3:33 in the morning, and ironically enough it was the third leg cramp since she went to bed three hours before hand. The first leg cramp came about at 1:11, the second one at 2:22, and predictably, the third at 3:33. Eight sighed and rolled out of bed, making sure to put as much weight as possible on her cramped leg. She stomped into her small and dark kitchen, opened a cupboard, took a small palm full of salt and lapped it up, trying not to retch as the bitter substance coated her tongue. She scowled even more when she remembered how she learned a small palm full of salt got rid of leg cramps. Her 'father' had taught her that when she went traveling with him one year and she woke up with one of her ridiculous leg cramps.
Eight poured herself a cup of cold coffee and confidently stomped over to her dingy kitchen table in the dark. She grabbed her chair, exactly where she knew it was, and sat down. The cold plastic shocked her nude thighs, but she knew she'd get adjusted quickly enough. She reached out for the sugar placed in the middle of the table and absentmindedly started pouring it into her coffee as she thought about her past. How her father liked to take her on day trips when he was in town. Once when she was very young, he took her on this old grid road, and pointed out an old dilapidating building.
"Keep watching this house, Eight!" he said as he went in a long loop around it. When they first approached it, it seemed to have been tilting towards them, but as they went around the loop it tilted with them in their rusty white truck. Eight squealed with delight, and asked to drive around it at least three more times.
Eight jumped as something cold started falling onto her hand.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath. She rolled her eyes and stood up, leg cramp subsiding, to get some paper towels. She had been so caught up down Memory Lane, she hadn't realized that she literally emptied the sugar canister into her mug of cold coffee. She mopped up the mess, but kept the paper towels on hand. She lifted the spoon set next to where the sugar canister usually sat and stirred her coffee slowly, careful not to spill much more. She mopped up the rest of that mess and instead of risking lifting the cup up to her mouth, she bent down and lapped up the coffee from the mug like a cat would. A little on the sweet side, even for her tastes (for she often put no fewer than 15 sugars into her coffee; her mom was constantly having kittens about Eight's insulin levels) but it would do for now.
As Eight sat in her kitchen, lapping up her cold coffee, her memory began to drift away back into the past. She sat up and slowly wrapped her hands around her mug of coffee as she thought.
Every time she drove past a dilapidating building, she couldn't help but watch if it tilted with her. Every time she got a leg cramp, which was far too often, she had a large amount of salt. Her father was diabetic, so she put 15 sugars in her coffee; her excuse was that she wanted to enjoy her sweets before she developed it, too.
And then she thought of another thing. Jason. She thought back to when they first met, at that coffee house down the road from her cramped basement suite. She had her day off and planned on just sitting in her second home, Coffee That Drinks You, writing. She went up to the till and began to order her usual extra large coffee and a large handful of sugars instead of going through the humility of asking for fifteen sugars. Even then, she'd usually have to go back for more packets. But this day, there wasn't the usual pink haired girl behind the till. This day there was probably the first male employee that the coffee shop had seen. Eight stared at him and seemed to have not realized that she stopped talking after she said "I'd like an extra large"¦."
"An extra large"¦. What? Hug? Plane? Elephant?" The boy teased her.
She shook her head no and said, "Coffee, please," forgetting all about her sugars. He smiled at her and rang up the total. She slowly and blindly pulled out a $20 and told him to keep the change. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and said, "An $18 tip on my first day? Are you sure? How do you know I won't spit in it?" She looked down and realized that he wasn't taking the bill from her hand.
"I trust you won't spit in it for an $18 tip," she slowly began to come to her senses and instead of taking the $20 and making an ass of herself, she persisted in him taking her biggest bill on her. He smiled coyly, turned away from her and began making her coffee.
He turned back around with her extra large in his hand and said as he handed it to her, "It's on the house. I'm about to go on my break in a few minutes, so if you're sticking around I'd love to join you."
"Uh-huh," was the only thing Eight was able to say. She sat down at her usual table in the corner and watched this new boy deal with the next customer. He was young, 21 at least, and one of the most gorgeous creatures Eight had ever had the pleasure of encountering. He had shaggy black hair that fell into his eyes, which were done up in eyeliner, and two rings on either side of his bottom lip. Eight fiddled with her own two lip rings done in a similar fashion and thought, "This is too good to be true. I didn't scare him off." She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. No sugar!! AT ALL!! And mister sexy pants saw her grimace. He winked and took off his apron as the usual pink haired girl took his station. The girl saw where he was heading and called him back. They talked for less than 30 seconds, she placed something in his hand, and went back to work. He walked over to Eight with a coffee of his own in his hand and a quizzical look on his face. He sat down across from her and put his hand in the middle of the table, letting go of 15 packages of sugar.
"Emily told me to bring these for you."
"She is a saint," Eight said with a big smile, eyeing up her prize (the sugar). She picked up 5 at a time, shook them, ripped open the top and poured the sweet white gold into the foul brown liquid she had accidently ingested without diluting. The boy stared at her in wonder as she poured three groups of five sugars into her coffee.
"Are you freaking serious?" He gaped at her as she finished stirring her coffee and took her first happy sip.
"Yes, I am freaking serious!!" She smiled at him and gulped down more coffee.
"So have you got a name?" She finally asked. She didn't know where this sudden burst of confidence came from, considering she was a stuttering and bumbling idiot just minutes before. "˜What ever, go with the flow,' she thought.
"My name is Jason, and yours?" he said with a lopsided smile, offering his hand over top of their respective coffees.
"Eight," she said with an even bigger smile as she took his hand.
--------
Like I said, first attempt. Be kind. :).