"Hah! My back is hurting so much!" Autumn winced in pain as she clutched her weak waist, kneading it gently. Lifting the heavy box of flour onto the counter by herself had been a bad idea. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and leaned against the counter, breathing out in exhaustion.
She lifted her head slightly and gazed out through the slim glass sl*t between the kitchen and the cafe. All the chairs were empty, not a single customer in sight.She exhaled heavily, feeling as blue as her eyes. "The business is growing colder and colder each day. At this point, I'll have to shut the cafe completely," she muttered to herself in a deeply concerned tone.
"D*mn those thugs. How long will they haunt my cafe?" She straightened her back, opened the flour box filled to the brim, and began transferring it to a more manageable container. As she worked, she watched people pass by her cafe, completely ignoring its existence. She bit her lip, remembering the time when her father used to run the place. Back then, it was bustling with customers. Since her father's death six months ago, everything had gone downhill. She reminisced about the past with a heavy heart until the ringing of the cafe doorbell interrupted her thoughts, making her heart leap.
"Customers?!" she said joyously, peering through the sl*t once more. She saw two distinguished men standing in suits—one in a checkered suit with hair on his forehead, the other in a plain suit with his hands in his pockets, black hair with white streaks neatly combed back, exuding a charismatic aura.
Her lips curled into a smile as she walked out of the kitchen to greet them. She was the only one running the place, as all her staff had quit, leaving everything to her.
"Welcome to Rose Deli. Please, have a seat," she said warmly, softly greeting them. The second Argon's gaze fell upon Autumn, his tense expression softened, and a smile appeared on his face.
"I will get you the menus," she said, pulling out chairs for them to sit.
"Yes, it would be a pleasure," Argon said softly, in a tone that almost made Kant feel like he was seeing an entirely new Argon.
Autumn rushed back inside, hastily locating the menus before grabbing a pile of them and hurrying back to the table. Kant had already settled in, while Argon stood, watching her approach.
"Is there a problem, sir?" she asked, concerned. Argon snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had been staring into nothingness ever since she disappeared a moment ago.
"No, nothing at all," he said quickly, taking a seat across from Kant.
"I'm glad. Here is the menu; please take your time," she said, retreating. But Argon called her immediately. "I'll have the Greek salad with cashew dressing and an orange juice," he said.
"Yes, right away," she said, turning to Kant, who was immersed in the menu, trying not to be noticed. "Oh, for me, I'll take some lemon water," he said.
Argon gave him a disdainful look. "What? I'm not hungry."
"Get something while you still can," Argon threatened him. With a darkened look on his face, Kant randomly placed his finger on the menu with his eyes shut. Autumn nodded joyously.
"Please wait just a moment, and I will get your orders ready," she said, leaving.
Kant took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, seeming to regret ordering anything at all, while Argon's gaze remained fixed on the door where Autumn had disappeared.
"The business surely isn't running well for her. She must be stressed," Argon said with concern.
"Well, for obvious reasons, it isn't running well. The only person coming here willingly is you. Who else would want to eat here?" Kant blurted out, making Argon glare at him.
"What? Why are you glaring at me? It's your taste buds that are busted. Why do I have to suffer along with you? Gosh, love really makes people blind, and in your case, numb to taste," he hissed and rolled his eyes.
"What nonsense are you spouting?" Argon said angrily. "Who said I loved her?"
"You might think I'm blind, but it's all over your face that you have a thing for this girl. And there she is, not even remembering your face despite you showing up at this shop a gazillion times just to get noticed." Kant clicked his tongue in disappointment. "She really must not see you as attractive, or at least you are definitely not her type. SO i suggest we stop eating this tasteless torture and go grab something better–"
"Ahm..." Kant's words suddenly came to a halt when Autumn seemingly appeared out of nowhere, standing with a dejected expression on her face. Kant, who was leaning back, instantly fixed his posture and spoke out in an apologetic tone. "I didn't mean it like that. I am sorry," he said, thinking she had heard him badmouth her café. Argon thought the same.
Autumn looked confused. "Why are you two apologising? I just came to tell you that we seem to be out of the cashew dressing and the cucumber for the sandwich." She bit her lip sadly. "If you could choose anything else from the menu, I would gladly make it."
"It is completely okay, just make us anything you have available at the time," Argon added in his smitten voice.
Autumn breathed a sigh of relief before turning to walk away.
Kant instantly spoke. "See that! I was talking about this!" He pointed at his face.
"Count you shut up for a second? WHat if she had heard you?" Argon scolded him.
"What if she did? It's the truth. She needs to know she's running her business into the ground because she's barely using her brain," Kant added, crossing his arms defiantly. "It's a hopeless situation here."
Kant finally shut up after making his point, leaning back against his seat. Argon wasn't pleased with him at all. He couldn't tolerate a single word against Autumn, for whom he had developed a strong liking. Any offensive words against her, even if they held some truth, were unacceptable to him.
"Here, gentlemen, your food is ready," Autumn said as she walked out of the kitchen with a tray in her hands. She served their table and then walked towards the reception area. Argon, completely uninterested in the food, kept his eyes on Autumn. Her red hair brushed against her pale white cheeks, and he couldn't help but feel more captivated by her beauty.
Kant, on the other hand, tried to eat his sandwich as quickly as possible to end the torture. Halfway through, he grew curious and decided to dissect the sandwich to see what made it so tasteless. Upon parting the two pieces of bread, he saw everything a sandwich should have—vegetables, chicken, sauces—but it was so bland it felt like he was eating cloth.
After what seemed like an eternity to Kant, he finally finished his food and gulped down the lemon water, the only thing full of taste. He sighed in relief and glanced at Argon, whom he had forgotten in his own culinary misery. Argon, in contrast, was eating the salad as if it were the most extravagant meal he had ever tasted, savouring every bite.