Ace

"What's your name?" I asked her the first thing in the morning as the Barista girl walked downstairs, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Ivana." She yawned and I suppressed a smile as she lazily jumped over the creaky step and sauntered over to the table where I was bringing out the dishes.

"You didn't wash yet?" I asked with hopes of continuing the conversation and also with the wish for the conversation to have strayed far away from the point Ivana was most likely to begin from once she did wake up fully.

She shrugged, her elbows fixed on the table and her hands propping her face up—showing no sign of wanting to talk about the kiss just yet. "I wanted to but the water was too cold for my liking." She shuddered as if reminiscing the coldness of the water.

I had to agree with her. Water in Tempe could be pretty cold and the years of abandon had rendered the geysers in this house useless.

I put two pieces of buttered bread onto the plate and kept the slightly greasy omelette at the side before sliding the plate towards her.
"Eat." I raised my voice a little, just enough to shake her out of her slumber. I didn't think I could bear to touch her just yet, not when the smooth velvet of her skin still lingered on my fingertips.

"Also, once you're done here, you can use my shower if you like. I hope it'll be warmer than the others, though not perfectly warm."

Ivana glanced at me hesitantly but her hesitance didn't have anything to do with embarrassment. Her reluctance to move was more a proof of the many questions that hung unanswered in the air between us.

I decided I couldn't take her scrutiny any longer. I didn't want her to come up with any weird ideas about me and so, for my own benefit decided to break the silence once again.

"So you own that cafe?" I made a vague assumption. It seemed like she did but I could be wrong.

She looked surprised. "Did it look like it? I mean I didn't expect-I look too young to have a cafe of my own, don't you think?" She fixed me with a curious stare and I couldn't help but smile a little.

"No, I don't. There's nothing that young about you." I shook my head, lightly sipping my coffee. "That's why I asked the question in the first place." I set down the mug and folded my arms around it, propping my face up to stare upfront at her who, by now, looked grim to say the least.

"You really do drink a lot of coffee, don't you?" She asked saltily, purposefully ignoring the comment I'd just made. I mused to myself with a smirk. Women hated any comments about their appearance in general and it seemed that Ivana, even with all her quirks, clearly was no different in that aspect.

I shrugged, having no intention to justify my words. Sure, she was bright and chirpy, even insufferably sassy at times, but there was nothing too young or childish about her. And she certainly wasn't as young at heart as her face might suggest...but I wasn't willing to get into details. I was pretty sure, she'd take it the wrong way again.

"I'll take any as long as it doesn't go overboard with the sugar." I sipped my coffee again as she wilfully dug into her breakfast.

Amongst the many traits that had allowed me to live my past life as I did, one was of observation. One encounter and I could already tell that she had one or other sort of claim on the cafe even though she looked about the same age as me.

"Were you an ex-convict?" She frowned suddenly, matching my scrutinising gaze with a curious stare of her own. When I didn't respond, her eyes hesitantly strayed to the softly buttered toast in my plate, and then slipped up to the mug clenched tightly in my hand. She cleared her throat, looking somewhat perturbed by the lack of response. "No, right?" She laughed awkwardly, muttering more to herself than me as I looked down at the table, my body frozen. I didn't expect the conversation to take a threatening turn like this and I couldn't bring myself to look up.

Despite the reformed lifestyle I was trying to lead nowadays, there were certain unmentionable aspects of my past life that I was terribly afraid of resurfacing.

One night. A single incident had changed my life. Followed up by a fabricated evidence and an unfavourable verdict, my life was ruined completely and I had become who I was, a habitual offender, a felon and now, an ex-delinquent who was ruthlessly cast away by the society before he could even try to redeem his reputation.

The court judgement hadn't changed the public opinion. Even four years after being cleared of all charges, I was still looked down upon by people and had to hide from the so-called civilised masses, who forced me to lurk in the dark alleys, tagging me as a criminal.

I was innocent...

But no one had tried to hear my story.

Ivana

Ace looked pale, the grip on his mug rapidly reddening his knuckles as he stared at the wooden surface fixedly.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "Was it something I said? You've been awfully quiet."

It was the ex-convict statement that seemed to have gotten him and his reaction was making my brain explode with unsaid doubts.

"Is it really true?" I chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. "What I said-"

Ace moved abruptly and I gasped as his plate scraped noisily against the wooden table. His expression was fiercely stoic as he rounded the table to pull me out of the chair.

"What's wrong?" I stuttered as he threw me a suspicious glance and dragged me along.
Tears stung my eyes as his grip tightened on my wrist, his fingers digging into my veins.
"What did I even say?" I yelled hoarsely as he pulled me across the room, not bothering to look back.

I clutched my wrist, desperate to soothe the numbness as Ace brought us to a halt in a room I assumed was his. Forcefully, I pulled away breathing heavily as I threw him a pained glare.

"You're crazy." I spat as Ace took a threatening step towards me. His expressions didn't give much away but I didn't need to look at his face to tell that he was enraged and was barely controlling his anger.

"I don't know what information you're trying to retrieve out of me," He spoke with a dangerous calm as his icy blue gaze seared through my soul. "But I swear I'll kill you if you're one of those sneaky-"

"What are you talking about?" I yelled exasperated. "I met you barely two days ago, I don't know why we are here and the police is after us as if we are some wanted criminals. It's you who's got me in this trouble, so the least you can do is not yell at me for whatever godforsaken reason you have!" My body shook in frustration as I waited for Ace's response.

"You're not the only one in trouble." He retorted, still seething visibly and I swallowed the urge to slap him across his handsome face.
That's the thing with handsome faces. They are most likely to drive you to the verge of insanity but you can't do anything about it.

I bit my tongue, willing myself to answer calmly. "True, but I was living a peaceful non-criminal life before I met you, Ace. I didn't have the police chasing after me like crazed hounds and I certainly didn't have the need to hide." I couldn't help the bitterness that snuck into my tone at the last word. "So please, unless you want me to give back to you for your behaviour with me today, stay away from me."

Ace gave me a bitter, almost hateful glare and my heart broke as I remembered the kiss we'd shared the day before. The way he was looking at me—it seemed like the kiss had never happened, like I had never shared the most intimate contact of my life with him.

And he was just an ice cold statue with a frigid temper who would never yield to me.

Because, like every other person in my life, I didn't mean anything to him either.