Whatever to eat (1)

After the worst night of the last few years, Vera decided to have breakfast early. If she managed to eat anything, food would have been a distraction!

She hadn't slept much. She had dreamt of the basilisk until giving up on sleep. Then, not much after dawn, she got up and had a shower. She had washed herself in the evening, but she could still feel the smell... It was all in her mind, she knew it, but washing gave her the impression of doing something, of fighting back.

She took the elevator to the first floor and reached the dining hall. The hotel was luxurious, and she could have asked for room delivery. But she needed to move more than she needed calories. She wasn't expecting to be able to eat either way.

«Can I help you, Miss?» the waiter asked her in perfect English. He didn't even have the usual German accent.

«I'm Vera Bogdan. Room three-zero-thirteen.»

«Three-thirteen... Let me check. Oh, sure. Your table is in the corner next to the window. I'll show you the way.»

She followed him, her eyes tired but still vigil.

The light hurt her. Why was the day so bright? She just wanted to hide in the shadows. But shadows meant remembering the sewers...

After half a minute of pondering, she chose the light. The pain was better than the memories at that very moment.

It had been just a few hours. When was it going to end? She couldn't survive forty-eight hours. It was too much!

What had pushed her to go down there? She had been stupid.

No more selfless acts from now on. They didn't pay her enough for that. Not nearly enough.

The waiter sensed her bad, terrible mood, and he ran away after taking the ordination. Black coffee and whatever to eat, that woman had said.

Whatever? Oh, it was a trap! He had to bring something to help her mood a little. Even just enough to give some light back to those dim eyes. It was surprising how such an orange colour could be lightless.

He saw another guest come in with another complex expression. He wished to ignore him, but he couldn't. He would lose his job if he didn't serve that specific guest to the best of his possibilities.

«Herr Darga,» he said, «welcome! Are you having breakfast here today?»

«Yes,» Neven said, barely paying any attention to the waiter.

He had come back late since Ogi had insisted on celebrating. Neven did tell him to postpone it after he got his woman, but his brother had insisted. Then, after coming back to the hotel, he had waited for Florian's email.

He was worried about it. Why was it taking so long? Had anything happened? He had felt better only that morning.

In the end, Florian must have worked on the report for the whole night, and he had sent it at seven o'clock.

Not knowing what was going on, Neven hadn't dared slip into Vera's room. Staying so close to her but, at the same time, so far had driven him mad. For that reason, he had decided to have breakfast in the hall. He needed to clear his mind a little.

Staying far from her was the best option. Even just for a few minutes.

But, as soon as he had stepped into the dining hall, his whole being was attracted by her presence.

He almost chuckled there and then, but he couldn't look like a fool in public. He asked the waiter about his table, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world when he found out it was next to hers.

He had two choices. Go back and disappear before Vera could find out about him. Reach the table and look at her while eating.

She was facing the window, so she might not even notice him. He could observe her in silence without her knowing.

But it was becoming tiring. The more he allowed him to get close, the more his heart became greedy. He wanted more, not just to look at her from afar.

He wanted to hold her in his arms, but with her eyes open and her lips curled in a smile. Not during her sleep.

He wanted her to know he existed, that he was there...

«Bring me a coffee and whatever you have for eating,» he said. «A lot of it. I'm hungry.»

He would have eaten slowly, taking the chance to observe her longer.

The waiter just nodded, not even blinking. In the end, people could be so indecisive. Could they at least decide what they wanted to eat? Why had a simple waiter to choose for them? It was too much responsibility for his pay.

Vera, on her side, didn't notice anything. She was observing the street out of the window, her chin leaning on a hand. Staying idle could be way more challenging than being on a mission. She hated that part the most, especially because she felt like she was wasting time.

When the waiter brought her coffee, she thanked him without moving her eyes. She wasn't in the mood for conversation, even though she knew she was being impolite.

She had almost given up on getting distracted when she felt someone stop in front of her table. Had the waiter brought food already?

Oh, she wasn't even that curious to see what she got. She truly didn't care... She was hungry, but her stomach was closed.

«Hello, Julie,» she heard.

The voice entered her mind, and shivers crossed her whole body from head to toe. Her heart ached because of that name, but it also was glad for the greeting.

At that point, she had no choice but to turn. To leave that window and observe the man in front of her.

Her first reaction was plain relief. As if every weight on her soul had been lifted.

But then, she remembered how she had lied about her name. And some people knew her real one in that place.

They weren't supposed to meet ever again. What was Neven doing there?