Déjá Vus

                                    

                                          

Damien dropped Lavender to work, waited until she was safely inside, and then drove the car back to Liam's apartment. 
The car was supposed to be in Lavender's hand, but how could Damien be a good boyfriend, if he didn't come to pick her up and drop her off?
Or so he reasoned. 
Apparently, Damien had too much time on his hands. For this Lavender planned on enjoying their game as much as he did. 
Throughout the day, he called Lavender way too many times to check if she was safe. When she asked why he kept bugging her, he reasoned that something about the boy's threat didn't sit right with him.
Lavender didn't pay much mind to Damien, because she knew it was his way of winning the game. Meanwhile, Lavender's day at work was without a doubt hectic. 
Again, she did everything on her own. 
With a restaurant so busy, it didn't have enough people working in it. None of the employees came to work again. It officially only had two people: Lavender and Jessie. Selena was only there to warm up the seats and play the supervisor.
The customers' constant complaints drove Lavender on the verge of insanity.
For instance, a man asked her for a napkin while she was mopping a mess a toddler made. She ended up taking her frustration out on him when she saw how close the napkin was to him.
"It's right there, go get it yourself," she almost yelled. The man gave her a glum look and reached over for it.
The phone rang so she dashed for the phone, forgetting she had just mopped and slipped. She was on the floor in a split position, holding unto the table. The noise that was louder than a fish market suddenly turned into a melodious choir filled with laughing customers.
"I'm glad I entertain you all," she grunted, blowing a strand of hair out of her face and answering the phone. Lavender turned her attention to the person on the phone. "Hello, it's Strictly Awesome, how can I help?"
"I want a Lavender punch and a sweet Afro-Latina babe with me tonight." 
Lavender scoffed, moving the phone from her ear to look at it in disbelief.
It was officially confirmed; Damien was a pain in the ass. 
She brought the phone back to her ear, using the voice reserved for customers. "The Afro-Latina babe is out of your league. As for the Lavender punch, you don't want that, sir."
After what felt like an eternity of him shuffling around in silence, he asked the question she was tired of hearing in one day. "Are you okay?"
"The answer is still the same as the last eighty times you asked me that. Now, adios amigo." 
She hung the phone to finish up what she started, going back and forth the whole day. When she finally got a break she sat on a stool, placing her head on her hands. She looked at her watch, sighing. 
It was almost midnight and she was still seated in the now empty and freshly cleaned restaurant. Her heavy eyelids closed, her fatigue taking over.
Then, she felt someone touch her shoulder, so she took the person's hand and twisted it until she saw it was Damien. Instead of apologizing; Lavender narrowed her eyes at him.
"Never do that again," she warned, her voice raspier because of her dry throat.
"You almost broke my hand because I brought you some cold, refreshing lemonade? How ungrateful."
"I was being cautious, pookie bear," she answered, batting her eyelashes. Damien handed her the Lemonade with a straight face which she gladly sipped down.