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Three
The Midway Diner was Bunny’s favorite place for breakfast in the whole of Atlanta. Not only were the prices fantastic, but the food was phenomenal. It wasn’t quite on the same level of greasy deliciousness offered by Granny’s Diner back home in Mosswood, but it was close. It also helped she could have breakfast for dinner any damn time she wanted, which was handy when you were a night-shift nurse. She blinked as she settled in at the booth she usually tried to snag whenever she visited the diner.
Had she just thought of Mosswood as home?
Dianne the waitress came over to the booth, pencil poised over pad. “What can I get for you?”
Bunny pretended to peruse the menu, but both she and Dianne knew it was a ruse. After a couple seconds, Bunny snapped it closed and replaced the laminated booklet in its holder by the condiments.
“I’ll have a short stack with berries and the syrup on the side, two sides of bacon, and a refill, please, Di,” she said, smiling.
The waitress smiled back. “Anything else, hon?”
“Sure. Some OJ. Thanks.”
Dianne scribbled down the order and left, heading for the kitchen.
Bunny looked across the booth. “What?”
“That seems like a lot,” Death said, watching her with interest. He leaned back against the bright red vinyl of the seat; hands folded together on the table in front of him.
Bunny’s raised eyebrow was a warning flag. “So?”
“Just seems like a lot to fit in,” he shrugged nonchalantly.
She knew he didn’t mean anything by it. He wasn’t commenting on her weight, or her food choices. But she didn’t like being second-guessed all the same.
“Not for someone used to eating,” she muttered, slipping a hand around her coffee cup to pull it closer.
Dianne was passing the booth but paused mid-bustle, gracing Bunny with an enquiring glance. “Sorry, hon?”
Shit. Having conversations with an invisible-to-everyone-else man really presented a challenge.
“Talking to myself,” Bunny said with a self-deprecating gesture and a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“It’s when you start answering yourself you gotta worry,” Di advised as though speaking from experience, continuing her mission to deliver plates of burgers and fries to another table.
“Welcome to my world,” Bunny sighed, taking a swig of her coffee. She met Death’s gaze over the brim of her cup, watching him watch her with his dark eyes alight with curiosity.
“What does it taste like?” he asked, a slight tilt of his head reminding Bunny of a puppy.
While she couldn’t say that she didn’t like this new, milder version of Death, she knew they were both currently up the proverbial creek without a paddle between them. Had losing his pendant affected Death's memory? Or had it been their kiss? A combination of the two? Something else? What could possibly cause such a monumental shift in a being so powerful as he was?
“Coffee?” she asked, holding her cup away from her lips and glancing inside. The dark liquid steamed, reminding Bunny of the look she’d seen in Death’s eyes right before she’d kissed him. Right before she’d fucked everything up good and proper.
She lifted her gaze to catch him nodding. Her throat suddenly felt dry. How did you even describe something that had been part of your life for as long as you could remember to someone who had never experienced it?
She took a mouthful and held it for a second, letting the flavor wash over her. She’d always thought the Midway coffee was pretty good, but now she was paying attention to it and not just guzzling out of habit, she could tell the water had been too hot. The beans were over-roasted and tasted a little burned. Overall, it was pretty damn terrible. She swallowed and then barked a laugh of amusement at herself.
Death frowned lightly.
“Bitter,” she said, the taste still on her tongue as she leaned the restaurant-facing side of her face on the heel of her palm to help hide the fact she was talking. “Should be hot, temperature-wise, if it’s made right. Sometimes sweet.” She shrugged, thinking about how this coffee had the ‘hot’ part going for it and not much else. “Depends on how you like it.”
Another head tilt. “How can it be bitter and sweet at the same time?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Like you.”
