Silence filled the air.
The woman kept her head low, watching the white floor beneath her feet. Her hand tightly wrapped around his right wrist, holding him there. Though he could've severed his hand, he'd decided not to.
The clock was ticking.
Neither moved.
As he felt his wrist getting squeezed, he turned back, facing the window. Five seconds later, his legs leaped forward. Her arm straightened as he moved further away. The rest of her body still in the same position, refusing to be moved.
He took another step.
Her hand loosened, only her fingertips touching his wrist.
He went further away.
Her hand slipped, letting go of his hand.
He kept walking until he got back to the table.
Behind him, the woman, holding her hand out as if she still had him in her arms. Her fingers bend slightly, her index and middle finger stretching out like she were reaching out for a handshake. For more than ten seconds, her arm was frozen. Even her breathing didn't disrupt her from holding her arm completely still. Her fingers twitched as she tried to expel the air from her lungs. Curling her loose fingers into a stiff fist, she clutched them together.
The phone was on the table, just mere inches from him. Without hesitation, he grabbed it, placing his thumb on top of the power button.
He looked up.
In the center of his vision, the door which he came.
Some time later, he had decided what to do.
He put his phone into his left pocket, making small steps to go around the table and then walk straight out. As he was about to get to the other side of the table, he spotted something in the corner of his vision.
On the small white table, the brown cup of hot coffee stood. Some of its steam still visible.
He stopped.
When he first entered this cafe, he came in search of something. What was that? Was it because of her—no, that wasn't it. Maybe to order something? No, he didn't come here for such reasons either. But then why? Why did he feel conflicted? If he didn't come here for anything, then… maybe it was never about that.
He glanced at the coffee, then back to the door.
Coffee again. Then the door.
Thrice, going back and forth until his eyes stopped bouncing between them.
Once his eyes settled, they no longer moved back.
He sighed, deciding to move in the direction where his eyes resigned. His legs moved, propelling him toward the door. After a couple of steps, he turned to the right.
In front of him, the chair he was sitting on.
He placed his hand on the chair's back and gently lifted it from the ground, then sat down. As he met the chair, his phone pressed against him. He dug his hand into his left pocket, pulled out his phone, and then put it on the table. His eyes swiftly moved to the brown cup sitting just about the center of the table. Staring at it for four seconds, he looked down—his phone in the middle.
His hand moved, reaching for the coffee. Before touching it, he pulled back, placing his hand on his phone. He turned on the screen and unlocked it.
Little vibration resonated through the table.
The sound reached the woman's ears.
Her head was lifted, finding the person before her no longer there when she last saw him. She looked to her side—he was sitting at the same table as before. She didn't question it. As much as she found it strange, she knew that if she let this chance slip, it would be over.
She melted her frozen legs and leaped forward with great steps and sat down across from him. Now, both were at the table, silent, neither of them finding back the tone that could've ended the stillness.
The woman stared at him as he was looking at his screen.
.
00:30:33
.
He blinked, slowly shutting and lifting his eyelids.
…
Then, again. Stopping them when they met one-third of his eyes.
…
Third time. Pace same.
He held up his phone, staring at the timer with a blank face.
From the reflection in his eyes, the clock ticked.
The woman across the table watched as his eyes reflected a white glow from them, with some black form changing ever so slightly.
She leaned closer, but it was too far.
The phone was in his hand, facing away from her.
She leaned back.
Pondering for a little, her curiosity got the better of her. Even if her previous attempt to reconcile with him ended in failure, she tried her best to rebuild the bridge that was never there.
She inhaled, sucking in a large amount of air, then put both of her hands to her chest, crossing them as a whisper escaped her mouth:
"ok…"
The flame of determination burned in her eyes with passion.
She let her breath out as she took her hands from her chest, letting them rest on the table. Her pink nails gently tapped the table at a rhythmic pace. She blinked several times, resetting her cheek muscles with exaggerated expressions. Though, she was careful enough not to let that be seen by the person sitting across the table.
Moments later, when her ritual was over, a dull smile began to form on her face.
Seconds later, her red lips parted.
"Meant to ask before…" she began, making a conscious effort to control the tone of her voice.
She continued.
"Whatcha doin' on your phone?"
She leaned forward, one hand sliding onto his screen, swiping it across the table.
"What's this ominous timer? What's gonna happen, the end of the world?" she joked, forcing out a smile.
Did she perhaps not realize she was right on the money?
He raised his head, staring at her with his dropped eyes, half of his irises covered, and asked, "You don't know?"
"Know what?" asked the woman, meeting his eyes.
Her head tilted.
"And what's with that creepy vibe in your gaze?" Her eyebrows got raised unbeknownst to her.
"Just how I look," he replied flatly.
Catching his breath, he paused, then said, "But that's irrelevant…"
For five seconds, he said nothing. His eyes rested on the timer; everything else blurred behind it. He slowly shifted his head, watching the lower part of the woman, just below her chest.
As his eyes met her hands resting on the table, he continued.
"The world's ending, soon." His words cut through the air.
The woman didn't flinch. Her expression stayed still, with no sign of tension forming on her skin.
"You sayin' this as if I'd been livin' under a rock. Unlike you, I was informed about all this. I even said it, remember?" She lifted her chin slightly. "Have you already forgotten what I said about me bein' the only one in charge of this place?"
He kept his gaze steady.
"So you know?" His voice dipped lower.
"Well, yeah. Like, duh; you surely don't think I missed a worldwide announcement, right?"
"Then why you ask about the timer?"
"Obviously, because I don't have a clue why you'd be settin' up a timer for," she said as she shook her head. "You know, this whole conversation would be so much easier if you could just talk in full sentences." She placed both palms on the table. "It feels like I'm havin' an exam I didn't prepare for, rather than talkin' to someone from the opposite sex."
What did she mean by that last remark? That she recognized him as a man? Or maybe it was just her way of saying he is neither a man nor a boy, just a male.
For the first time, he leaned forward, his back no longer touching the back of the chair. Brushing aside the hair that had fallen into his vision, he looked straight into her eye.
"Before I left home, I set up this timer to know when the end happens. Once it reaches zero, it's over."
With a serious expression on his face, he told her. His face was just a bit different from his usual, but it was enough for her to see it.
She froze. Her chin dropped with her eyes wide open.
Her plan failed. She knew that once something's gone, it can never come back. Even so, she'd hoped that maybe this time there could be an exception, but there was none.
No matter how much someone yearns for things to be different. No matter how much they wished for a future that wasn't so cruel. There comes a day when they realize there's no more time left. That was hers to see that.
"Wait, wait, you mean…"
She stopped. Her words struggled to come up.
"You mean that in less than…" She glanced at the phone in her hand.
"…less than 30 minutes, the end is… here?"
Does she know it or not?
He didn't break eye contact, only staring into her soul with his irises that covered most of his pupils. Though, what she saw might've given her the wrong impression. The whiteness in his eyes was barely visible. He looked more asleep than awake.
"Thought you knew," he said. Voice devoid of color.
"I…I knew it would happen, but I didn't know when." She gasped, unable to make sense of reality.
"Wasn't it only a day when the media covered it?" he asked.
"Yeah, it was. But…" She stopped.
Trying her hardest to convey the absurdity she had witnessed back then, she caught her breath and continued.
"Just a few hours ago, it felt unreal. Like it was a joke. Most people didn't think much of it. Not even the owner. But then, something happened. Something that was beyond real," explained the woman as her pupils started to dilate.
Just some time ago, they all lived their lives as if the end of the world was just some random plot point. They thought nothing of it. As if it were nothing more than just a prank sparked from the mind of a person who had already lost it. After all, it's not every day that an unknown identity threatens to destroy the universe. It made sense why they didn't care. Though, after the warning turned out to be more than just empty words, panic erupted.
But that woman, she never left. Even after knowing the end was near, she alone remained there at the cafe. Serving ghosts.
Her days went by like that. Every day was just another uneventful day in her endless, mundane life. Serving people who could never make her feel special. It felt like she could never experience something real. But then, the only person showed up there. Even after everything started to fall apart, he refused to leave—though, she probably didn't find the courage to share that last part with him.
As she explained everything in a low, quiet voice, the still atmosphere in the room abruptly ended when a loud noise cut through the air between them.
Bam!
Glass cracked.
A large cobweb-like shape formed. Tiny shards fell on both sides.
Ball bounced, resting on the ground, muddied.
Both of them looked behind the cracked glass. Seeing that what was only a reflection of their own image now spreads into something more.
They saw a park.
Multiple benches on one side, the other side mirroring that. People everywhere: some sitting, some lying on the ground, while some were standing as they looked up.
On the left side, kids were running, chasing another kid. Laughing, crying, shouting. Some gathered as a group. Next to them, a lone kid, watching as the others threw dust at him. He stood still, eventually getting that dirt in his eyes. Tears flowed while he tried to clean them from his vision.
Just around the middle, some people lie on their backs, watching the wind take the clouds to places. There was a young couple; the guy crouching, one of his knees on the floor as he held a small purple box in his hand. Before him, a woman put both her hands to her mouth, covering her nose as tears began to flow.
On the other side, a middle-aged man with a small girl on his neck. Her legs were supported by the man's grip. Both were smiling. The man with bitter eyes.
In the far back, just before the park ended, people looked down as tears poured, falling on the ground.
When they hit the ground, something else did.
The rain.
The clouds came back, darkening the sky as they painted it gray.
Moments later, the ground darkened by multiple shades, leaving no signs of its former state behind. Only under some trees and benches, but even there, the rain eventually flooded in.
The wind ripped through the park, tearing the branches down, severing the leaves as it took them away. The rain smashed against the window, ricocheting off it to the ground, leaving splash marks behind until nothing was there but a blurry mash of colors merging into one.