"After all the things that we been through, I got you, yeah"- Look what you've done: Drake

"Hey, Liv, how are you?" my boss asks as I put an apron on.

"I'm good. School has just been exhausting. I really need to do well—it's my last year!" I explain.

"You'll do incredibly," she reassures me.

My boss is South Asian, with curly hair tied up in a messy ponytail and lips painted red. She is the epitome of beauty. Her lashes are naturally long, and her skin shines bright in the sun.

"Remember what I told you: less talking, more working," she says, placing a hand on her hip with sass greatly evident.

"Did I mention you're an incredible boss?" I smile, wiggling my eyebrows.

"You're not getting any bonuses," she laughs. I sigh and head to the first customers.

The cafe is small yet the most popular in the area. They serve everything you could think of—breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. It really isn't a cafe, but she calls it that.

My boss never lets me cook and tries to whack me when I attempt. She doesn't recognise talent. It's super cool how Xavier is willing to try my food. So far, I've received zero stars from every single person who claims to be my victim.

They're haters.

As the day goes on, the cafe gets busier and busier, but no one from school comes, which is reassuring. Sometimes I get embarrassed since the kids at school like to talk a lot of poop. Dad doesn't earn much money, so it's helpful that I work.

I like working too; it lets me make new friends.

The doorbell suddenly rings, and as I look up after cleaning a table.

I look up to see a man with long brown hair and eyes that seem to belong to another world.

He looks high. I wonder what that feels like.

The man sits at the table, giving me an uncomfortable glare. Great.

"What would you like today?" I ask.

"What can you offer, sugar?" he smirks.

I feel disgusted. Taking a deep breath, I try to continue the conversation, hoping he doesn't make any more sexual comments.

"I'd like some cake, please," he says with a wink, and I fight the urge to kick him in his no-no area.

I nod and rush off to tell my boss his order, leaving out how much of a creep he is. Why? Because I don't want to be a bother.

The café empties out, leaving him as the only customer, which makes me feel even worse. I don't like this feeling.

But my bubble of worry bursts when the doorbell rings, and I see Xavier standing there, arms crossed, with the same frown he always seems to wear.

I quickly smile, wave, and head back into the kitchen as my boss calls me. She slices the cake and hands me a piece to serve to the weirdo.

Now what if I steal that knife and kapow this freak.

Deep breath, Liv. Deep breath.

"Thank you for this slice," the weirdo says as he hands me a napkin with his number on it.

"You know I'm probably twenty years younger than you, right?" I frown, fiddling with my hair.

"Age is just a number. I bet you'll love how experienced I am," he starts, but before he can finish his sentence, he's punched across the face.

"What the hell, man!" he shouts.

Xavier stands there, fist at his side, giving him a deathly glare.

When I first met Xavier, he was nonchalant and quiet. As I've gotten to know him better, he's been like cotton candy-soft and sweet-but now?

I've learned one thing: never get on his bad side.

"Touch her, look at her, or even breathe near her again, and I'll beat the fuck out of you. You're lucky I'm not doing it right now," Xavier growls, grabbing the freak's jaw and raising an eyebrow.

The weirdo nods frantically and leaves.

Now logically anyone be frightened of this behavior but me? I've read enough romance novels to know I'm obsessed.

I blame my trauma.

"Are you alright?" Xavier asks.

"I'm fine, just lucky my boss didn't see that. I'd have lost my job," I laugh awkwardly.

"That's why I didn't beat the fuck out of him. I just gave him a taste of what I'm capable of," he explains.

Xavier sits down and brushes his hair. I want my hands there-stop that, Liv.

"Well, I'll be serving other customers.

"Would you like anything?" I ask.

"Nothing at all, except I'll be waiting until your shift is done," he states.

Butterflies.

Eventually my shift ends and he's still here. During the entire shift he never touched his phone nor changed focus his eyes were on me only.

"You must be very bored if you're still here. There's nothing interesting about me working," I laugh.

"No, it's interesting," he answers.

"What is?" I ask. He stands up, and I follow behind.

"The way you fucking communicate with people, the dimples you show when you see someone is in a bad fucking mood and how you like to twirl after the order is stated," he explains.

I cover my face in embarrassment.

He's very observant.

"Well, thank you for staying with me and preventing anyone from being mean. You're basically my bodyguard, and your punches seem so strong. I can't punch to save my life," I sigh.

"Anyway, sorry for bothering you! You probably need to go home and do some training since you said you had a competition this weekend. Look at my great memory," I add.

"You're not fucking bothering me. I'll walk you home—it's late," he responds.

"No, no, it's okay. I don't want to bother you," I say, frowning as guilt chokes me by the second.

"You're not a bother whatsoever, nor a burden. You're alright to be around. I like being with you," he reassures me.

I punch his arm playfully. "Look at you, being a sweetheart."

"I am fucking not."

"You sooo are!" I tease as he gives me a foul look.

We leave the café and walk together. At first, there's an awkward silence, and I start counting the trees we pass.

"Do you think caterpillars know they'll turn into butterflies?" I ask.

"Pardon?" He looks at me, confused.

"You know, after they come out of the cocoon and see their reflection in the water, do you think they're frightened? I would cry and have an existential crisis if that were me."

"How the hell did you even come up with that?"

"Dunno."

"What do you want to do when you're older?" I ask with a grin.

"I want to be an engineer," he explains.

"You must be so good at drawing. You have to show me your drawings when you get the chance!"

"I wouldn't say I'm good," he mutters.

"Stop being humble and be confident—I bet you're incredible."

We continue walking as the wind picks up, becoming oddly louder. I'm craving pizza so badly; no one understands the enemies-to-lovers relationship I have with it. I'm lactose intolerant, but it tastes so good.

"I heard you enjoy reading?" he asks.

"Oh yes, any excuse to read a romance book is a good excuse. Though I like to dip my toes into a thriller at times," I explain.

"You should give me one of your books to read," he suggests.

I pause, looking at him with surprise. "Really? You'd actually read one of my romance books?"

"Why not?," he says, shrugging. "Besides, I want to see what you're so passionate about."

I smile, feeling a warmth spread in my chest. "Alright, but if I give you one, you have to promise not to judge me too harshly."

"I promise," he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender

"What else do you like, besides reading?" he asks after a moment.

"I love baking, even though I'm not the best at it," I admit with a laugh. "There's something calming about measuring out ingredients and mixing them together. Plus, the smell of something sweet in the oven always makes me happy."

"Baking, huh?" he says, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"But I should warn you, I tend to get flour everywhere."

"I think I can handle a little mess," he replies, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Good, because I'm a walking disaster in the kitchen," I joke. "But it's fun, and that's all that matters, right?"

"Mmm," he agrees.

As we approach my house, I realize how much I've enjoyed this walk. Talking to him feels easy, natural, and I'm surprised at how much I've opened up.

"Thanks for walking me home," I say as we reach my front door. "I had a really good time."

"Me too," he replies, his voice soft. "It wasn't that bad."

"That bad Mr this was a five star experience," I say, giving him a genuine smile.

"I'll be expecting that romance novel."

"Of course Xavier," I say, feeling a strange sense of anticipation as I open the door. "Goodnight, Xavier."

"Goodnight, Olivia," he replies, his voice lingering in the air as I step inside.

As I close the door behind me, I lean against it for a moment, my heart still fluttering from our conversation.

I enter the room and see Dad sitting near the entrance, a cup of tea in his hand.

"Olivia."

Oh no.

A/N
hiii guys! It's so weird writing about america when
i'm literally from a completely different continent!!!! At the point i've written this i finished cobra kai part 1 of the last season and oh my goshhhhhhhhhhh!!! TORY GIRL WYAT ARR UOU DOING!

anyways i should be studying for the LNAT am i doing that? Nope.

I hope you all have a lovely day <3

fave fruit?