Blossoming Kiss

‘Hi. Excuse me? Hello. I’d like one large coconut latte please.’

Chris, who had been staring at the garden through the window, jumped at the voice, bringing her back tor reality.

‘Of course, that will be £5.99 please,’ Chris said, punching the card button on the till. She had to stop daydreaming. She’d only just got this job, and not because she was any good at making coffee or serving customers. She only got it because a few members of staff quit at the same time and they needed someone urgently, and she needed to earn money before she found a ‘real job’. Before she did something with her Environmental Science degree. 

‘Excuse me, can I get my drink now please? I don’t have long before I have to go. Excuse me?’

She blinked her eyes back to the customer. ‘Of course, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It won’t be a minute.’ The customer rolled his eyes, and she turned her back to make the coffee.

Why did she daydream all the time? Her grandparents used to tell everyone that she had an ‘overactive imagination’.Maybe she should have studied something creative, instead of doing Environmental Science. Was it something she was interested in? Sure. But maybe she should have studied something creative instead, like art or writing. But it was too late to dwell on that now.

She set the coffee down, and her life flashed before her eyes as she almost missed the counter entirely.

‘Oh my goodness,’ she breathed, relieved.

The customer huffed. ‘Finally,’ he muttered before striding off.

Chris’s eyes wandered back to the garden. The four sides of the building with floor to ceiling windows displayed a large cherry blossom tree, erect, in the middle of the courtyard. The flowers, as far as the eye could see, had lilacs, yellows, corals, fuchsias, all animated and vibrant. She had loved coming to the Botanical Garden with her grandparents growing up, even though her grandad, never gave her any money for the café. But her grandmother had always bought her a gingerbread man, after every visit. She had so many wonderful memories of this place, which is why she had taken the job here, even if it was only temporary. 

The bell tinkled as a new customer stepped in. Chris turned to see a beautiful young woman walk in, wearing a beret and dark grey trench coat tied at the waist. She propped up a large A3 sketchbook on her hip, a small tote bag displaying Water Lillies by Monet swinging from her shoulder. When she noticed Chris looking at her, she smiled, blushing.

‘Hi, what can I get you?’ Chris asked.

‘Um, just a pot of tea please.’

‘Definitely! What’s your name?’ Chris smiled shyly. ‘Just standard procedure, so I can call it out when it’s ready.’

‘Of course. My name is Sophia,’ the woman said sweetly.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Chris said, busying herself with the kettle. She popped a mixture of brown and white sugar cubes into a small pot and poured some milk from the fridge into another. She caught sight of herself in the mirror above the kettle and found herself still smiling. Why was she acting like this? Why had the mere presence of this woman made her feel like this? She had never seen this woman before. And yet…

Chris cleared her throat, forcing herself into professional mode. She made sure everything was on the tray, picked it up, turning around- and froze. Sophia was standing exactly where she had been just a few minutes ago, openly staring at Chris while she had prepared Sophia’s order. 

Chris smiled. Sophia smiled back. As she reached for the tray, her arm shifted, and her sketchbook fell to the floor, loose pages scattering everywhere.

‘Shit,’ Sophia said, looking down. She put the tray back on the counter and crouched down.

‘Let me help,’ Chris said, joining her.

‘Thanks,’ Sophia said. 

They grabbed the scattered pages one at a time, and Chris gasped, marvelling at the beauty Sophia had managed to capture. Everywhere she looked she could see flowers, bodies of water, trees, leaves, nature. And it was so beautiful. Each stroke, each hue, it was magical. It was so vividly real.

She reached for a sketch of a lily pad just as Sophia did, their hands brushing. A jolt ran up her arm.

They looked up at each other and quickly turned away.

‘Sorry,’ they said at the same time. They looked back and laughed.

Chris removed her hand and stood up. Sophia picked up the last piece of paper and tucked them all back into the sketchbook. 

‘These are beautiful,’ Chris said. ‘I love them.’

‘Thank you,’ Sophia said softly.

‘I’ll bring the tea over to your table,’ Chris explained, and they both started towards a free table by the window, the best spot for sketching the garden. 

‘Where did you learn to draw like that?’

Sophia shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve been drawing all my life. Flowers are my favourite. I could sit and sketch for hours, days even. I think I did, once. I lost track of time and realised I’d been at it for nearly 50 hours straight.’

Chris gasped. ‘That’s amazing.’ 

‘I’m here to capture the gardens,’ Sophia explained. ‘I have a week off, and I intend to make the most of it.’

‘So… you’ll be coming here every day?’

Sophia nodded. ‘Every day.’

‘Well, I’ll leave you to it.’

Sophia’s face fell, and then recovered, so quick that Chris was sure she had imagined it. She nodded, sitting down and taking out her supplies. Chris lingered for a moment longer and then headed back to the till. When she didn’t have to serve customers, she spent the rest of the day watching Sophia.

At the end of the day, when she needed to close up, she realised Sophia was the only customer left.

Day after day, Sophia arrived in the morning, ordered her tea, and sat at the same table, sketching. And day after day, Chris watched her. She spent so long watching, she knew Sophia’s habits- the way she perched at the edge of her seat when concentrating, not moving an inch apart from her fingers every so slightly. Her eyes would dart sharply from object to paper, back and forth, until she moved on to a less intricate section, and then she would relax a little. But only Chris could tell. If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t see the change.

And another thing- her ritual of drinking a full cup before she started sketching. She would pour her tea, put in a sugar cube and splash of milk, get out her sketchbook, and stare into the garden, sipping it. Sometimes, Sophia caught Chris watching. Chris would look away, pretending to be busy, but the moment the pencils were out and Sophia began sketching, Chris knew she could stare as much as she liked. There was no point offering her food; once Sophia had entered her state, she could not and would not be interrupted until it was physically time for her to step away.

By the end of the week, Sophia’s presence had become routine- one that Chris wasn’t ready to lose.

That evening, as Chris was closing up, she realised Sophia was, yet again, the only customer left.

Once Chris had put the chairs onto the tables around Sophia, pushed them back and got out her mop, Sophia knew that it was time to go, and closed her sketchbook with a sigh.

‘I guess this is it,’ she said, standing.

Chris’s stomach twisted. ‘You finished?’

Sophia nodded, hesitating. ‘But I don’t want to go.’

Chris swallowed. ‘Then don’t.’

Sophia smiled sadly. ‘I have to.’

Chris chewed her lip, as they both stood there. ‘Can I walk you home?’

Sophia tilted her head up, surprised. ‘Sure. That’d be nice.’

Chris quickly finished her jobs and closed up, locking the door behind them.

They walked together in comfortable silence. Chris kept turning her head toward Sophia, opening her mouth, and then closing it. She didn’t want to embarrass herself. If Sophia didn’t like her back, then she would feel so humiliated. She didn’t want to even try.

They reached Sophia’s building all too soon for Chris’s liking, and they came to a standstill. Sophia turned to Chris, eyes searching.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For the tea, for the company… for watching me.’

Chris burned bright red. ‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-’

‘No, it’s okay,’ Sophia interrupted. ‘It was quite enjoyable, actually. Knowing someone liked me that much.’

Chris smiled, not knowing what to say.

All of a sudden, Sophia leaned in, brushing her lips against Chris’s. Her heart raced. It was soft and tasted like peppermint. 

Sophia pulled away and smiled at Chris. ‘I’ll come back.’

Chris grinned. ‘I’ll be here.’