Coffee Mugs and Train Tracks

It was rare for a café to feel so sterile, so...impersonal. Dakota figured it wasn't the room's fault, or the people getting on with their lives, but the situation at hand.

Cupping a mug of coffee at one particular table; Dakota's eyes bared down into the darkness, stirring it's contents intently. Though her back was arched over the item in question, her mind was wandering else where, her pose stung of annoyance. Her companion Elliott on the other hand looked tiredly over at her. As he did so he continued to fiddle with a crisp letter in his hands, before deciding to wipe his glasses on his jumper.

“Dakota--” he stated at last with a clear intention to clear the air, but with the call of her name, her face snapped from the coffee mug.

“You can't let that...that...” she stumbled, her teeth gritted as she squeezed her hand that rested on the table.

Elliott swallowed tightly letting her continue, but noticed her loss of words. He put his glasses back on his nose and looked up at her. “I know you don't understand, but he's my friend and--”

“Was you're friend,” she corrected with a tongue of steel.

“He helped me--”

“He abandoned you, Elliott!”

The words pierced the air just as a train shuttled past the café, cutting the pair both into silence. The tension in the air settled as the train whisked away, and the café seemed to turn to normal. Elliott's face did not meet hers.

“That was a long time ago” he told her atlast as his heart seemed to settle back to a normal stable rate, “Things were different then...”

Dakota sniffed, frustrated to the core, she stood picking up her satchel. “Things are different now, you think I'm going to let this creep lay a finger on you, you've got another thing coming.”

“He's not going to do anything like that--” Elliott said with an assured tone but Dakota wasn't listening, her voice raising to a high pitch as she let her rant continue.

“And how do you know that for sure?” she exclaimed, stuffing her things into her satchel to keep her hands busy. “You're going to let him do what he needs to to “save you” like that damn letter says, and you're going to believe him after all this time? What if he's out to hurt you Elliott!? What if--”

“What if he can make me human, Dee.”

Dakota stopped moving, letting that thought settle in both of their minds. For Elliott to be a normal again, was something that he had always wanted. What did that mean for her? What that mean for them?

Before she could even digest this, Elliott leaned forward against the table, his face hidden under his hands as he tried to process his thoughts. “I admit that he made mistakes in the past, we all have. That shouldn't change the fact he wants to help me...”

“He could be using you” she stated, clearly and with a pleading tone to her voice. She felt sick when she had, realizing in that moment that she had been doing that very thing herself.

“He could be, but he could be saving me and if there's a consequence I'll pay for it.” Elliott paused then, “Flint is coming to help me tomorrow night. If you don't want to come, don't.”

“Elliott--” she began, fumbling for the right thing to say, but her resolve had cracked now, if anything, she felt ashamed to even say his name.

“No, Dee. That's the end of it...” his voice was fiery in comparison to the weak man she always knew him as, something had set a light under him, and that something was probably being able to be like everyone else from tomorrow.

Dakota's reaction, to be told she was not needed, that Elliott didn't care if she turned up, was forced under a tight nod and a swallow to keep herself from saying anything stupid. She got up from the table, squeezing her hands on her satchel and without a word she left.

She did turn back to check on him, but Elliott didn't notice. His blue eyes were focused on the black coffee that Dakota had barely touched, and the steam as it rose from it's contents. He must have been that was for a long time, because when next looked up most of the customers were gone and someone was standing next to him.

“Can I help you sir?” a young waitress came over to take his own empty tea mug and Dakota's old coffee, wiping the surface down. He gave a moments pause before shaking his head.

“No thank you, I don't need any more help...” and thoughtfully, a sad look on his own face he too finally stood and went to the exit himself. The letter folded and put back into his pocket with care.

Together Elliott. It read. We'll get you back to normal. I promise you that by the end of tomorrow night, the demon and everything about it will be just a bad nightmare.

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Authors' Notes:  a piece of writing for my Final Project for university

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