Coffeeshop

The irons were red hot as they clamped around his wrists, setting his arms ablaze. He had screamed, until the pain was too much, and he was met with blackness as his brain shut down.

The coffee cup clicked against the saucer. His hands went through the motion, pouring fresh earl grey into the lady's cup.

He moved like a ghost remembering as his mind struggled to catch up. Where was he? What was this place? Words and feelings answered back, at once foreign but completely familiar.

He worked here. He served coffees and teas. He had a small studio apartment nearby.

He was not a knight. He was not at war. He hadn't failed his queen and been put to death after watching hers first.

He stares around. A familiar face smiled at him, instead of being streaked with tears. A grizzled man in a trench coat read the news, instead of a map.

A cat stares back at him. Its eyes are deep. A shiver runs down his spine as they gleam, like the tip of a blade poking through a chest.

It feels like a question.

He looks up as the door opens, and automatically greets Her as she walks in. A little late to her shift, but smiling. At him. He fixes a saucer of water and sets it next to the cat. He has a busy day, but he still has time to treat every customer well, no matter if theyre human or not.

In time, he stops seeing two faces when he looks at someone. But whenever he does, he makes sure to greet them with a free cup.