Work Text:
Looking around the freshly unpacked and organized kitchen, Laudna let out a satisfied, if a bit tired, huff. The small, 2 bedroom apartment that Laudna had been lucky to find at a decent price was very slowly beginning to feel comfortable with each passing day seeing brown moving boxes and empty walls be replaced by couch-side tables and paintings that she’d either printed or done herself. “Would you look at that Paté? It’s beginning to look like someone actually lives here!” she said to the small lump on the counter. The little lump looked to be a hand-crocheted rat, with wings made of bone and a bird skull on its head, Cubone the Pokémon style. “It may be too early for dinner but I am quite hungry after all that,” she continued, not waiting for the rat-bird to respond, “And my joints do not like moving that much in such a short amount of time so I’m not exactly feeling up to making any food myself. What do you say we check out that cute little café on the corner? Zhudanna’s, I think it was called?
“Oi I mean, you know me Mum, Whateva’ you like, I’m down with,” he replied, the Cockney accent being spoken out of the side of Laudna’s mouth giving life to the stuffed toy. She chuckled.
“Good point. Off we go then,” she said while grabbing her purse and setting Paté inside, his bony beak peaking just over the top. She walked the short distance from the countertop to the door, taking a deep breath as she set her hand gently on the doorknob, prepared to venture forth.
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Imogen sat mostly still, hunched over the countertop behind the register, her pale yellow-collared work shirt having the first two buttons undone, revealing her white tank top underneath and giving herself space to breath. She could hear new employer, the elderly grandma-like woman named Zhudanna doing dishes in the back of the small shop, and Orym, the small man with close cropped hair who looked to be a few years older than her was working the dough that would eventually be tomorrow's croissants. After a handful of quiet moments, she sat up from the position she held in her chair, rolling out the tenseness of her shoulders as she looked down at her work. Two dozen cupcakes sat on the counter in front of her with . . . mostly uniform frosting decorating the tops. The design Zhudanna had given her to work on when there were no customers was simple, blood red five leafed flowers with a white dot in the center. They almost all looked like flowers at least, which was good. Some weren’t aligned in the center, or had uneven leaves but for the most part they looked the same. Imogen couldn’t help but fixate on the messiest of the lot. Not her first one, surprisingly, but her second. No she’d done quite well on the first one, which made her arrogant and less careful than she should have been when trying again, resulting in a sloppy mess that looked more like a dollop of paint that a child stuck their fingers in than a flower. As she stared at the offending cupcake, she heard Orym pick up the dough and take it to the back, likely to store for the next time it would be folded then stay chatting with Zhudanna for a few minutes, the slowness of a Monday giving them no rush.
Imogen let out a heavy sigh. She knew Zhudanna would likely not mind that they weren’t all presentable enough to sell, the forgiving demeanor of the woman being clear from the moment her gentle eyes saw Imogen. The kindness almost made Imogen more afraid to let her down. She looked at the incurring cupcake and was contemplating eating it to hide the object of her shame when the sound of a small bell tinkling caught her ear, signaling a customer had entered. She glanced up and was about to launch into the standard entrance greeting Orym had showed her but stopped in her tracks when she saw the woman standing just inside the doorway.
The first thing that caught Imogen’s eye was how tall the other woman was, at least six feet of slender, elegant, almost siren-like beauty. Her shoes, which looked like glossy Doc Martens, were barely visible beneath the shifting fabric of her skirt that was too beautiful to be a product of fast fashion. Layer upon layer of sheer black fabric moved like rolling waves in the dead of night as she stepped lightly into the store, the belt having an assortment of things tied to it with thin red string. Things, like a small set of pliers, scissors meant for cutting hair, a carabiner with a small ring of keys, and a small pocket knife. Her shirt was tucked loosely into the belt and skirt, a red button up that had small poppies dotted over the fabric of it. Imogen noticed two pins on either side of the collar, one that looked like an anatomical heart and the other that looked like a raven in flight. The outfit was accessorized with no jewelry other than simple yet elegant cuffs that rested over the tips of her ears, giving them the appearance of being pointed like an elf from a fantasy book. In fact, that did a good job of summing up the mysterious woman’s figure. Simple yet elegant. Not overdone but perfectly presentable. It wasn’t over the top but you couldn’t miss the attention to detail. Imogen hadn’t even reacher her face yet. Oh lord her face–
It was all sharp lines and soft expanses. Cheekbones that Imogen, for some reason, wanted to run her finger along even though she was confident it would give her a papercut and she wouldn’t want to ruin this mysterious goddess with her human blood. Her eyes were larger than normal but Imogen found that she didn’t mind, in fact that only made it easier to imagine swimming in the pools of inky onyx, a brown so dark it was surely black, a dark so deep she couldn’t tell where the iris ended and the pupil began. Her nose sloped forward to a round taper that quirked ever so slightly to the left. A strand of her jet black hair was rested on her nose before it was quickly blown away to rest with the raven tresses that threaded down her back, with some strands resting over her shoulders, the top half pulled into a small bun that seemed to be fixed with a small hammer of some sort. A brilliant shock of white, to pure to be anything but natural, was mixed with the bun, creating an ethereal salt and pepper look. The piece of hair that was resting on her nose now stuck to the corner of her lips, lips that all but confirmed the growing inkling in Imogen’s mind that this woman was either a goddess, an angel, or an ancient marble statue come to life. Her lips were thin, with perfectly sharp lines and delicate movement that spurred an intense feeling in Imogen that she didn’t quite know the meaning of. Her mouth opened and Imogen could see slightly too-sharp canines before she was shocked out of her blatant staring by the sound of this woman’s voice.
“I’m sorry darling, do I have something on my face?” The musical nature of the pale woman’s voice, with its British twinges, washed over Imogen like a gust of wind and she started, her whole body jolting for a moment as the woman fished what looked to be a shiny pocket watch from the pocket of her skirt to check her reflection on the back of.
“Oh no, you got nothing on your face, well nothing that I can see, maybe you wear makeup, I can’t tell- not that it matters- I just- Mondays don’t see a lot of customers and its my first day so I guess I kinda zoned out. I guess?” Imogen rambled, tripping over her words at the intense eye-contact from those eyes that looked like obsidian marbles. “ M’ sorry, where are my manners?” She cleared her throat before continuing, “Ehem, Hi! Welcome to Zhudanna’s Delights, my name is Imogen, how can I help you out today?”
Mystery woman let out a small chuckle, a light thing that reminded Imogen of wind chimes, before responding with, “Hello Imogen. My name is Laudna, pleasure to meet you.”
Laudna. So the mystery woman’s name was Laudna. “A beautiful name for a beautiful person,” Imogen blurted out before realizing. A faintly purplish blush spread over Laudna’s cheeks as Imogen’s hand slapped over her mouth in an instant before dropping just as quickly to say, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud I’m so sorry.”
“It’s quite alright darling. To answer you’re previous question, frankly I’m not entirely sure what I want. I’m new to the area you see, and this shop just looked so cute the few times I’ve walked by that I figured I would stop by. What do you all have?”
“Well,” said Imogen, looking down at the flower cupcakes in front of her before shaking her head and pointing to the display case next to her, “These are technically for sale but they’re also kinda for practice so you don’t gotta take ‘em if you were lookin’ for a cupcake. We have much prettier one’s over there,” she said, gesturing to some that Zhudanna had decorated earlier in the morning that look like beautiful sunflowers. “We also have some scones and croissant if that’s more of what you want.”
Laudna only looked at the display shelf for a brief moment before turning her attention back to the cupcakes directly in front of her, fixating especially on the one Imogen was least proud of. “You made these ones?” she questioned.
Imogen could feel herself faintly blushing with embarrassment, responding with, “Well I decorated them, but yeah. They’re not very good–,” but before Imogen could even finish talking Laudna was rapidly shaking her head.
“No, no, Imogen these are all so wonderful! They are all unique while still getting the idea across. I especially like that one,” she said, pointing to the mistake.
“Really? But it doesn’t even look like a flower,” she responded, a bit confused at the other woman’s comment.
“Sure, it doesn’t look much like the others but that doesn’t mean its not beautiful, nor does that affect how good it will taste,” Laudna replied with, looking at Imogen near the end of her sentence in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. “How much for that special cupcake and one of whatever your favorite here is?”
“Oh. Well if you insist on the messy cupcake that is $3 plus tax, and I guess my favorite thing here is probably the chocolate croissants, or pain au chocolat if you want to be particular. Those are $4.50 plus tax.”
“That sounds wonderful Imogen. I think I’d quite like that,” Laudna said, a slightly crooked grin filled with the most genuine happiness Imogen had ever seen sneaking across her face. Imogen nodded, swallowed a bit loudly as she moved to wrap the chocolate croissant and place it in a small brown paper bag alongside the cupcake, which she placed gently in a plastic container so the frosting wouldn’t get messed up (not that Imogen thought it could get much worse, but Laudna seemed to like it and Imogen did not want to see this woman sad, it might break her heart). Imogen tapped the purchases into the small tablet on the desk and flipped it around for Laudna to insert her card and finish the payment. She also noticed that Laudna left a pretty generous tip, saying,
“Y’know you didn’t need to do that, I appreciate it o’course but I hope you didn’t feel obligated for any reason.”
Laudna just smiled at her for a moment, before replying, “I would never do that out of obligation, it’s just not everyday that people are as wonderful to me as you have been.” Before Imogen had time to fully process what that might have meant, Laudna was grabbing the small bag and turning to walk out of the shop. “Y’know, I quite like this place, I think we’ll return sometime soon.”
Imogen couldn't control the dumb smile that appeared on her face. “That's wonderful to hear Laudn- Did you say ‘we’?”
Laudna paused, her whole body freezing for a moment, before replying, “Oh dear, how silly of me, did I not introduce you to Paté?” She said as she quickly walked back over to the counter, gently setting down the bakery bag before pulling something out her purse that Imogen hadn’t noticed before: A little knit rat, with wings that looked like they were meant to be bone and a bird skull where its rat head would be.
Imogen looked at the little stuffed animal, before looking at Laudna, then back at the little creature. “He’s most definitely interesting. In a good way! He’s very cute.”
Laudna beamed, literally beamed, as in, Imogen thought she might get a tan from looking at it, beamed. “I’m glad you like him! He’s been my companion for so long and I bring him nearly everywhere I go, I often habitually say “we” instead of “I.” A silly vocal quirk of mine.” Her eyes gleamed as she was talking, and Imogen could tell that this was a woman who truly enjoyed the seemingly mundane parts of life, a feeling that Imogen envied with her entire self.
“Well, I’m glad I got to meet him. I hope to see both of you again?” she said, questioning at the end because she didn;t want to presume.
“Yes of course! If not for the food, which I’m sure is delicious, but for the employees,” she said, punctuating the sentence with a wink that Imogen felt in her knees. Launda then put Paté back in her purse, grabbed the goodie bag and walked out, giving Imogen a small wave and then disappearing out the door and down the sidewalk.
Imogen stood there for what felt like an eternity but was likely only a small number of seconds before a low chuckle shook her from her reverie as she whipped around to see Orym standing there with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Oh god, how much of that did you see?”
He laughed loudly for a moment before replying with, “Enough to know that I no longer have to wonder whether you’re lesbian or not just based off of the Hozier lyric you have tattooed to your arm, because that interaction was the definition of gay panic.”
Imogen groaned loudly, covering her face with her hands as the blush crept up her face and encouraged Orym to laugh even more.
She was going to enjoy this job.