dedicated to Messy-Dreamer, a very amazing person on this website whose book you should definitely check out! 

Sorry for the month gap, back to school and it sucks a lot - what's the worst thing about school? :eave me a comment and lets see if we all agree - for me it's the amount of time it consumes! 

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What the heck was I going to write about.

That was the thought that had plagued my mind for the next week - not as if it was a little question sitting in the back of my head, patiently waiting for an answer- no. It was this pulsating demand that was taking over every thought I had, urging me to do something about it, anything to stop it from repeating itself over and over again. It was a nightmare.

Even at work I could hardly concentrate - every time I made a coffee I thought about how boring the job was and how little effort went into actually working here. Lattes, Cappuccinos, Mochas; every single one was basically made up of the same thing, did they have emotions and raw feelings - no. They were coffee.

That was where I currently was, working, like usual. It was around two o'clock and I hadn't had a break all morning, the shop was hectic for a Monday but it allowed me to keep busy and push back my worries a little, although everyone could tell that I was pretty distracted, Rebecca had attempted to get my attention about five times and i'd missed every single one of her calls and shouts, making it difficult for her to serve quickly.

I'd definitely gotten better as the week progressed, the first Monday after my meeting with Michael White, I had literally stayed silent the whole day - not speaking to Rebecca, Garth, William or even the customers. I'd asked to be pushed back onto making the coffees and cleaning instead of working the tills and so most of my time was spent in the back room with Garth, helping out when I could and trying to avoid contact with other people. Garth was an exception though, he was pretty quiet himself and would just occasionally grumble at me about how I wasn't cleaning something properly or he wanted it done again. When he did speak however it was often pretty helpful, but also made things worse.

"So have you thought anymore about what you're going to write about?" I sighed, turning to face the short bearded man who wasn't even facing me. "Well you're going to have to think of something, you've already lost a week!"

"I know, I know." I muttered, chewing my lip as I tried to rack my brain for some inspiration, "Hey Garth, have you had a traumatic past experience?" I asked hopefully and then he chose to face me, although i'd rather he hadn't, his expression was not a kind one. "Sorry, sorry." 

No one really knew much about Garth- he didn't like to talk about himself or his worries, i'd never seen him with anybody else or even calling anyone for that matter. He was definitely a very private person. But there was a little joke that went around the Cafe where we would all try to guess his life story- it ranged from 'he was a secret agent, placed here undercover to infiltrate a drug ring.' to 'he was a drug Lord.' to 'he was secretly a drag Queen.'
That last one had been Margot's input.

He pointed to the door back into the cafe and I groaned but slumped over, not wanting to protest and make him even angrier. "Sort out your own problems!" He informed me in a demanding tone and I nodded silently, my mind already starting the process of trying to figure out my issue for the tenth time that afternoon.

I pushed through the door and entered the cafe, my eyes scanning the crowd and I noticed that it had quietened down a lot - that meant rush hour was over and I felt the relief flood my body.

"Hey Liana, can you clear those tables?" Rebecca smiled softly at me and I nodded, feeling guilty that she had to pick up my slack for the past week while my mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, "Thank you."

"It's my job." I shrugged, grabbing the worn out dish towel and bucket and heading over to the windows where most of the used tables were.

How was I meant to find something emotional to write about, when that was extremely intrusive and insensitive - no one was going to willingly let me write about their worst experiences in life.

I could write about myself?

I immediately pushed the thought away from my head, shaking it slightly as I picked up a pile of dirty plates and stacked them into the bucket resting on the neighboring table.

There was absolutely no way that I could write about myself - I had tried that and as Michael White had said, those stories were 'flat'. I found it impossible to be reflective - it was awkward and embarrassing for me to reveal my inner thoughts and emotions, I had trouble enough telling them to Margot, but a book which could be read over and over again by absolutely anyone without me knowing who, that was never going to happen! 

I wiped down the tables that I had cleared and then lifted the heavy bucket, heading back to the counter.

I would have no idea who had read it or what people knew about me; maybe they'd know where I had gone to school, or perhaps they knew that Honey Jack Daniels was my favourite drink and every birthday Margot would buy me five bottles as a gift. Or maybe they would know that my father had died and my mother was an alcoholic and a recovering drug abuser who was now sitting in jail because-

"Hey Peanut."

I screamed as I was jolted out of my whirlwind of thoughts erratically, and in the process I dropped the bucket of dishes to the floor, where they landed on my toe in the process. "Jesus!" I gasped, crouching over as I tried to ease the pain, rubbing my foot but it was a lost cause - I could already feel it slightly swelling.

"Ah shit, are you okay?" 

I growled, "No I am not okay, quite frankly i'm fricken pi-"

It was only then that the voice registered in my head along with the words that they had said.

Peanut.

No. Way.

I looked up and had to try and physically stop my jaw from dropping at the man in front of me. It was definitely him, there was no one I knew with the same structured jaw like his and his puppy dog brown eyes were a killer all by themselves, however his stunning sharp cheek bones were no longer covered in flawless skin, instead they ranged from purple to a horrible greenish, brown and I also noticed quite a few cuts and scrapes in other places. He wasn't in his usual attire- swapping out the black t-shirt and shorts for a white one and sweats. He still looked just as good however and it made me annoyed - it was so unfair that some people were graced with natural, stunning beauty while some of us had to work really hard to look presentable.

"Landon?" I asked confused and he smirked, bending down to my level as I continued to rub my foot in a daze, "What happened to your face?" The words blurted  out of my mouth before I could stop them and he paused slightly before continuing to pick up the spilled dishes.

"Got into a fight with a drunk guy." His answer didn't really seem like anything out of the ordinary so I didn't see any reason to believe that it was a lie - he was a guy, they got into altercations often, i'd seen my fair share of them.  The pain in my foot took over my thoughts and I let out a groan as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force the pain away. "That seems pretty bad, do you have a back room so I can take a look?"

I nodded and Rebecca quickly came over to see what the commotion was and after explaining to her in a few short grunts and strained words she showed Landon the correct door which lead to the small staff room and he softly pulled me up into a standing position.

"Can you put any weight on it?" He asked, glancing down in slight panic and I grumbled under my breath before testing out the amount of pain which would radiate from my swollen limb. It was a very high amount. I crumpled a little at the pain and my whole body fell to one side in response causing Landon's arm to snake around my waist, stopping me from crashing to the floor and making everything worse. "I take that as a 'no'." As he chuckled I glared at him, facing him in preparation to shout a little at the damage he had done but when I see how close our faces are, I can automatically feel how every part of my body is touching his and it causes my heart to speed up and the words to die in my mouth. "Lean on me, alright?" I nodded, completely dumbfounded as if he had just announced to me that the sky was actually yellow and I had been seeing it wrong all these years, my brain couldn't even begin to process my actions as I hopped to the safe confinements of the staff room.

As the door swung open it became apparent to me that we would be the only two people in the room - the thought made my emotions conflicted. 

On one hand it meant I would have a chance to talk to him without any interruptions - I could apologize to him about before and even get to know him better.

On the other hand I was a complete nervous wreck and my mind was struggling to react to the current situation let alone start asking someone about their life.

Plus I hardly knew the guy - what was there to talk about?

He could also be a murderer, let's not forget.

Noise from out in the shop drifted through the space between the door and the frame and I relaxed a little, knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to murder me even if he wanted to, too many witnesses.

The staff room literally looked a little bit like a rainbow, it was a mess of colors - the walls painted orange, the sofa blue, the carpet a disgusting moss green - not to mention the bright yellow lockers lining the longest wall.

"Wow." Landon let out a whistle and I giggled at his response, sighing as I slumped into said sofa and could finally take every tiny bit of weight off of my swollen ankle. "Is there Ice?" 

I gave him a look as if to say 'are you kidding me?'  and he responded by frowning. "We're in a coffee shop - we sell iced tea." His eyes widened slightly in realization before he awkwardly turned away and went back through to the shop to get the ice - or he could be leaving, I wouldn't be surprised if it was the second option.

With a groan of frustration I began to attempt to pull of my shoe from my foot although it proved a lot harder than I anticipated - everything from my ankle to the start of my toes throbbed with movement and tears started to spring to my eyes making my vision blur.

"Wow Peanut, don't try and do that, shit here, let me help." I gasped in shock as Landon returned abruptly and glided across the small room to me, squatting down so his face was level with my calf as his hands moved to support my foot. His touch was gentle, yet strong, and I felt as though he had done this quite a few times; his eyes had a focused look and his jaw was tense as he cautiously took off my shoe, stopping anytime I winced or objected.

"I can't believe you don't come in here for weeks and then when you do this happens." The grumble left my mouth much louder than I had intended it to be and at the words he stilled and looked up at me with a smirk. "What? Yes I noticed that you didn't come in, big deal." I waved it away while avoiding his stare, the blush on my cheeks heating up as I realised that I had shared too much.

"I missed you too." He teased and my throat tightened slightly. That arrogant ass. "It looks like a really bad sprain, it could be worse however, we should probably get you to a hospital, you shouldn't be walking on this for at least a couple days." Silence filled the room as I didn't respond. He expectantly looked up at me waiting for an answer but all he got was my raised eyebrow. "I know it sounds serious but it could be a lot worse."

"What, are you some sort of medical expert or something?" Clearly the pain was making me grumpy because I was very much going in the opposite direction of where I intended to go with Landon- I had a prepared apology and everything and instead I was snapping at him and demanding answers. 

Good job Liana, you get a gold star for being kind of a bitch. Although free pass because he did almost severely damage your foot.

 "I have intense medical training if that's your concern?" His smirk returned as I gaped at him and let his words sink in. Was this guy a real life Ken doll? Could he do everything. Next he would say he's a qualified surgeon and in his spare time enjoyed putting out fires.

Wait where was this coming from I didn't even know his real job! 

"Okay, I believe you. I'm just wondering how I'm going to get to the hospital." I lied, covering up my irrational thoughts and he shrugged, straightening up and pulling out keys from his pocket. 

"I'll take you." I frantically shake my head. 

"No way."

"Why not, I hurt you therefore I should." 

"You have work to get back to dont you?"

"Actually I have a weeks holiday."

Damn it.

And so this resulted in me finally giving in and letting Landon take me to the hospital, it was going to cost a lot most likely and due to Landons predictions of me not being able to work for a week, I was worried that he would be right and I would lose money there too. It wasn't a good situation. 

Rebecca had quickly asked me if I was comfortable with going with him before I left the shop and in all honesty I was - sure it was a little awkward at times and I hardly knew the guy, but he wouldn't offer to help me and go out of his way if he wasn't a decent human being. Unless it was a coverup and he was secretly a psychopathic maniac. Which I fully doubted he was... Well perhaps partially doubted.

His car turned out to be a pretty big truck which looked like it could go through a brick wall with its huge wheels and reinforced sides but I didn't ask - if it got me to the hospital quickly then I wasn't going to complain.

And so, after a brief but pretty awkward and silent car journey - with the exception of a few mumbles here and there about a song that would come on the radio or a sight that one of us had seen - we finally arrived at the hospital and we were now standing at the front desk filling in a form so that I could get an appointment.

"Here you are Ma'am, if you would like to fill these in and then I can put in your request for a slot." I nodded in response to the overly happy receptionist who looked as though she had just come on her shift, compared to the older woman beside her who looked about ready to die instead of work another hour. 

She shut the glass parting between us and started sorting files on her desk, while I began to fill in the blank spaces and sections on the form. As I tried to concentrate on the paper in front of me, a warmth radiated through my back and the goosebumps along my neck rose up at the feeling of someone watching me. "I don't get why I have to fill these in all the time." 

"Yeah, it's a little annoying, isn't it? Paperwork is always a killer." I nodded, my eyes scanning down the questions and I almost laughed at some of them.

Are you sexually active?

Well I'd like to say yes, however I feel like most people would disagree with that statement.

After finishing the form I chapped on the glass of the window and it slid back open to reveal the bouncy brunette whose cheerfulness was starting to wear me down, especially with the pain radiating in my body. I whined and leaned against the counter however a strong and steady arm encircled my waist and supported me against a chest instead of a hard stone table.

"Can you please me sure this goes through quick?" Landon offered the girl a charming smile and I knew exactly what he was doing and despite the fact that his arms were around my waist, the receptionist totally fell under his spell, her smile faltering for the first time since I had seen her as she struggled to solve our problem. "Thank you, you're a doll." He winked at her and she flushed a light red before closing the partition against and beginning to type away on her computer.

I brought my hand up and smacked him across the chest, scoffing at his behavior as I stumbled and hopped to the waiting chairs and Landon took the seat next to me.

It was silent for a moment and I took in the time to watch the moving people, all around us and all living their own lives, none of them have any idea about another persons thoughts or ambitions or struggles. It baffled me that people could be so oblivious to other people's issues. 

Hey maybe that's something I could try and write on.

"I never did properly apologize for making you drop that tray..." Landon began and I started to refuse but he hushed me up, "I know you'll say it wasn't my fault but it was - I'm a killer for dramatic entrances, sorry you had to be effected by it." 

I giggled, before realizing Landon was completely serious and quickly tried to turn it down. "It's okay." I stated, twirling a piece of my hair, "I've been meaning to apologize to you about before... you know a few weeks ago - when I shouted at you." 

He chuckled and shook his head, "It's forgotten about honestly, it was literally weeks ago. You were under stress," He shrugged, "I get it."

For some reason I can't seem to look at his face, maybe it made me a little nervous or perhaps I didn't want to stare that the bruise that lingered on his cheek anymore, whatever reason it was it made things awkward.

It reminded me of one time in elementary when the teacher had told us that we all had to get into pairs and reveal one thing to the other person, I guess it was supposed to be a stupid icebreaker or something like that and i'm sure the teachers intention was good, I mean if I remember correctly her name was Mrs Morrisy and she was that golden ray of sunshine teacher who was a friend to every child and would always make a lesson interesting, every school has one. Anyway, when they told us to find partners this boy had come up to me and sat down beside me, his name was Alfie, I never found out his second name but his first had engraved itself into the tiles of my head to forever be remembered. 

Now Alfie was really quiet, for the whole two days that we had been in that class, I hadn't heard him say even a single word and so when he sat beside me, it was obvious I would be a little shocked with his hair hanging over his eyes and his hands in the sleeves of his jumper, but being the friendly child I was I smiled at him and started talking about myself - i'm pretty sure I was saying how at the weekend my dad had told me we could go and get a goldfish and name it anything I wanted and I was extremely excited. It all kind of seems irrelevant now because as soon as I took a breath from my speech and asked how his weekend was he looked up at me and just muttered something about it being the worst one of his life.

That's when his hair had moved and I saw the bruises coating the right side of his face all the way from the scratch on his forehead to the split in his chin and I remember going to yell for Mrs Morrisy but he grabbed my arm and told me not to because it would make his dad more angry.

That was the last time I ever saw Alfie - the next day he didn't appear, and i definitely would have noticed, he was no longer the invisible child sitting at the back of the class with no one to speak to, he had communicated with me and that mean, especially at that young age, that you were supposed to be friends. I don't remember if I asked where he was  or if I just sat and waited for him to come to school the whole day but I remember getting home and my mum meeting me from the bus. She was unusually quiet and had wrapped her arm a little tighter than usual, her kiss lingering for a few seconds longer on my forehead when she first reached me. 

It was only at night when they thought I had fallen asleep and were sitting watching the television that I found out what had happened. Alfie was dead. Along with his mother, and his father who had been the one to kill the two of them before committing suicide. At the time I just knew what death meant and I had been upset - it was only when I was older and researched it that I found out the whole story of how their father had been abusing them for years and when the father had finally gone to hit the youngest member of the family - Alfie's 2 year old sister Emily, had the mother stepped in, which resulted in a fight breaking out which Alfie had also tried to stop, I guess even in his young age he knew who the bad guy was and was trying to protect his mother. I had never even realised that Emily was still alive until then, she had been sent to live with some distant relative or something a few states over, and no one ever heard anything about the family again.

That moment where I had sat in school and had gone to tell the teacher about Alfie's face could have been the moment that had saved his life, it could of prevented his father from being able to harm him or his sister, or even his mother, ever again. But my resistance had stopped me, that fear of asking too many question or sticking my nose into someone elses business had pulled me back.

Much like it was doing everytime I looked at Landon and his bruised face, the image mirroring Alfie's.