Shadow Under the Starlight

1. Moths

An hour. An hour had already passed since she stepped foot in the café, through the double glass doors written ‘Lay’s books & cafe’ — a half empty room with no more than two people enjoying the luxury of Lay’s books & café — a few steps more she had herself ordering a cup or two of rosemary tea.

Walking over to the furthest seat, right by the book shelves, she sat with her coat & bag comfortably hanging on the empty seat across from her.

It had been furthest but gave the clearest view of the counter — all she needed.

Her gaze fell from the clock by the wall, 6:05, it read. It had been an hour, it was time to close up — quite sad, it wouldn’t be long before she came around & notified her she had to leave as they were closing up.

Isla leaned back, her now cold untouched tea staring back at her, she waited. Sure she could just leave but where was the fun in that? Plus how else would this woman ever talk to her if she left right on time.

She always order the same thing or coffee sometimes — but she barely drunk it, she barely did what she came to do. Each time the two to three cups of her warm beverage were untouched and the book, she had been ‘reading’ was always stuck on the same chapter, over and over.

It wasn’t a place for her to enjoy a cup of coffee or read through fantasy books — she had enough fantasy. It had been the only way she would see Layla, plus a bonus on being able to protect her every night.

In her thoughts of Layla, her gaze fell on the red thread wrapped around her wrist, the split end — the end & beginning tied in a knot together with nowhere to go. Her thumb lightly grazed the thread, it once lead somewhere, once in a past life — all that’s left are the memories she only remembers of.

“You should stop ordering if you’re going to ponder here & let it get cold, you know?”

That voice — Isla looked away from her wrist to the source of that voice. The exact same reason why she came here for, day and day for the past months.

“It’s a habit.”

With swift movement, Isla stood with the book clasped in her hand. Picking up her bag along with her coat, she hoisted it over her shoulder. Reaching over at the two untouched cups, her black sleeve lifted up a bit exposing the red thread.

“What’s that for?”

Isla looked over the woman, a puzzled expression on her face — she did always happen to help clean up her table, it wasn’t something new, was it?

“The thread on your wrist.” Layla clarified pointing at Isla’s wrist. It hadn’t been the first time she had noticed it and it hadn’t been the only thing she noticed as well.

“It’s just a memory.” Isla said with the two cups in hand now. Layla’s noticed the light smile on her face, it was bittersweet.

“Of someone?” the woman questioned, taking the cups and placing them on the counter.

Isla gave a small nod. “Have a lovely night.”

“Can you stay a couple of more minutes Isla?”

Layla placed her hand on her shoulder, abruptly stopping her from walking further. As soon as Layla’s rested on her shoulder, Isla already stepped out of her hold.

“I should get going.” was all she said.

Layla wasn’t having it this time. “I know you don’t come here for the coffee or books, what is it?” she asked, arms crossed leaning against the counter.

“Are you dating?”

A bit too straightforward than she had expected. “I’m not.”

Isla’s gaze wasn’t exactly on Layla rather the band around her finger. “But you’re married.” she mumbled then stared at the her pointing at her own ring finger. “The ring on your finger.”

“I was once married, it’s for the memories.” Layla frowned, she still wore it even after these months that passed by, from a day to week to months. “You know, the ring like your thread.”

“You don’t seem happy.”

“It’s a miserable life.” she sighed. It hadn’t been a simple life the past 28 years — but what would she expect, life was a static wave and the flow wasn’t all lovely.

“It shouldn’t be for you, in this life.” had been what Isla mumbled, instantly catching Layla’s attention from her daydreaming & reminiscing.

“In this life?”

Isla had been staring into Layla’s eyes, the same set of words or close to repeating themselves. ‘In this life and the next and the past — you should, you need to be happy. For once I’ll make sure.’ the words so close but something totally different slipped out.

“It’s getting late, should I accompany you home?” and probably that shouldn’t have been what came out — not those words exactly.

“Thanks?” she spoke lightly smiling before adding a few words. “—but I’m sure I can get home safely, alone.”

“I insist—”

“And I do have a guardian angel, I’ll be fine.” Layla said, a wide smile on her face on her face.

“Oh—really?”

Layla’s response had been an enthusiastic head nod, Isla gave her a small nod before walking away — she waited by the corner, in the dark hidden enough to safely escort Layla home & remain the ‘guardian angel’.