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    Wolffang
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Clovers End - 2. Conflicting Feelings

The Man in Black (JAMES) P.O.V

That morning I thought I caught a whiff of her scent but that's impossible. She had left long ago without a goodbye. Without me. I never got the chance to... never mind. There's no need to get disheartened. But why now? After all these years, why come back?

"May I take your order Honey?", spoke a cheery accented voice, breaking my train of thought.

I glance up taking in my surroundings, purposefully ignoring the glorified barbie doll-like waitress with white, wig like, hair and overdone makeup. Rustic wooden boards crawl to meet the whitewashed walls of the quaint Angels Bakery. I inhale deeply, the scent of melted white chocolate and cranberries invades my senses. A soft clicking sound slowly transforms into a loud, persistent, snaps.

"HELLO?! EARTH TO JAMES!!", a silky voice cries out, bringing me back to reality. My eyes dart downward to meet a stout looking brunette with forest green eyes and expression encapsulating a bemused annoyance.

"You can hear me right Jamie?" the concerned pixie-like woman asks.

"Yeah, sorry Rachel my mind is kind off all over the place right now."

"Hey, it's all right and besides the poor waitress over here just wanted to take your order, so I got your usual, a decaf hazelnut latte hold the cream with no sugar right?"

"How did you?"

"Know? Well, maybe it's because of your spontaneous personality. You've been known to never have the same thing twice." She sarcastically remarks.

"Whatever." I murmur, resulting in a wave of laughter ululating from her chest. She looks at me with a cocked eyebrow but quickly loses interest as she catches sight of the slice of extremely rich, extremely fattening, If I might add, triple chocolate food cake with fudge icing. Squealing with delight she grabs a cake fork set neatly on a white doily, positioned atop an elegant, tasteful cream table cloth.

I find it ironic that the one place in Clovers End, run by Angels, places an absurd amount of emphasis on colours denoted to purity. Perhaps it's an attempt to distract the inhabitants from the fact that they are all fallen. I guess even angels aren't perfect. I wonder exactly what they had done to be cast out from the high ranking society of the heavens. I know those who refused to swear allegiance to the new paradigm were cast aside. Perhaps, that was the case for them.

"Don't mind if I do!" Rachel exclaims as she digs her fork into the moist chocolate sponge, making sure to include an unhealthy portion of icing. She lets out a pleased sound before pointing down at the now messy plate. With a full mouth of cake, she offers a piece which I begrudgingly decline.

"How can you eat that?" I question vehemently "It's basically a serving of guaranteed diabetes."

"Easily. For Angels they make an outstanding devils food cake."

She pauses "Oh come on Mr Buzzkill, what's with the long face? You're ruining my cake vibe."

"Very funny, Rach." I pout.

"No seriously, Is everything okay?", she asks as she stops passionately attacking the cake" I haven't seen you like this in a long time."

"It's her. I think she's back." I say simply, barely audible over the chatter in the café.

"What? Are you sure?" her voice trailing off, the smirk on her face fades into creased lips.

"Yeah. I caught a whiff of her scent yesterday while walking on the beach."

"And what is it exactly that you plan to do?" Rachel asks, gesturing her cake smeared fork toward me.

"I don't know but I have to find her, for my own sanity." I whisper, finding it hard to fight back the tears welling in my eyes. I clench my fists and rise from the table, turning my head away from her so she can't see my pained expression. I throw down a couple of gold coins, mumbling, "That should cover it."

Heading for the door, I'm stopped abruptly by arms wrapping around me from behind. In a hushed voice, she whispers "Please be careful."

Copyright © 2022 Wolffang; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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