My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Hayley the Witch ultimately decided against adding her new and improved product to the menu. 

I think hearing my retching, and gagging, and downright just dying echoing all the way across from the restroom had something to do with her sudden change of heart.

She kindly offered me a milkshake as sorry, boasting that her self-taught methods would do me much good.

I politely declined, telling her that if I did accept her offer, then I really will be sorry.

Anyway, she stuck around for a bit longer, y'know typical owner mentality, you know when they're staring at you with eyes like a vulture just waiting to swoop down and reprimand you for the slightest mishap that isn't even really a mishap at all but just their general lack of how things work around here thinking it is but they think they know it all anyway and talk down to you like you don't know how to the damn job they literally hired you to do? 

Well except, it wasn't really like that when it came to this particular hawk. She preferred to just watch, almost like a hawk, and to just keep watching… ogling, battering slow fluttering eyelids, smirking at me every time I so happen to glance in her direction. 

"I like watching hard-working men work hard," She said to me after noticing my puzzled glances. "So carry on, would you?" 

Eventually, once she had her fill of me doing grunt work, she wandered off into the back where she stayed cooped up for the time being.. I guess even owners gotta do owner things, right?

Ten minutes later and I finally got the coffee-cauldron back to a state where It wasn't so much of a health hazard anymore, just in time for opening time, and from what I've learned from the past four days working here - The first customer of the day was always the same. 

It never changes, it was like clockwork… with sunlight spilling into the interior, and with the soft melodious chime of silver bells, waltzing in through the wide-open door, would be a girl always dressed to impress. 

Today, in particular, she had her bright golden hair in braided pigtails, wearing tinted shades accentuating the hazel browns in her rounded eyes, and a lovely white dress to finish the look - which strikingly reminded me of a sunflower in full bloom. 

And just like her timely arrival, her order would always stay unchanged. In fact, I already had it brewing, had it ready atop a saucer by the time the words left her rosy lips, "One Hazel Magical Serenity, please. And don't forget the heart drawing on the top," Amanda was always a frivolous customer too. "I won't love you anymore if you forget the heart drawing on the top." 

I lifted the cup, nudged it towards her as she took her usual seat by the counter. "Oh no, I guess we're going to have to break up now, then."

Briefly bemused, she looked down at her drink, where instead of her usual heart-shaped foam, I drew a rough sketch of her face from memory. Her eyes, her nose, her lips… didn't get her hair right, sadly… didn't think she'd braid it today, but oh well.

Now It wasn't professional, I wouldn't even call it good… but to her, from the faint smile that formed across her lips, I knew it was just perfect.

"I guess the customer isn't always right, after all," She muttered, then after another moment of appreciative staring, finally took a sip of her drink. 

But a little caffeine to energize her for the day wasn't all that she was here for, sadly. If it was, then that'd be a miracle… no, she has another reason for coming here, and that reason for four days now has remained unchanged.

I only just got done serving another customer his drink before Amanda began stirring up with her nonsense again.

"Samantha, right? Her name's Samantha?"

"Yes," I replied for what felt like the twentieth time already. "Her name's still Samantha the last I checked. No records of her legally changing it to anything else, as far I'm concerned at least." 

"But you call her Sammy. It's her nickname, the one you gave her," She pondered for a moment, absentmindedly tapping the rims of her empty cup, before asking, "Should I call her Sammy? Or do you think just Samantha is fine? Do you think she'll like it if I - " 

"Amanda, listen here closely," I put my foot down finally, metaphorically of course, placing both hands atop the counter. "My sister isn't going to kill you just because you call her by the wrong name."

But to no avail, Amanda tapped even harder. "No, but she'll do worse - she'll judge me! I don't know what to do! What if your sister doesn't like me? What if she doesn't approve of me? What if she thinks you're too good for me? I don't know if I can handle that kind of rejection." 

So there I went for the fourth day, and for the fourth time in a row on question-and-answer detail, giving Amanda every little single tidbit of my sister she wishes to know about… from her personality all the way down to her fashion sense.

Yet I don't know why I even bother indulging her when she keeps forgetting everything I've told her the day after. It's like the mention of my sister had struck a chord in her, and now it was all she could ever think and worry about.

"So she knows about me, right? You told her about me, right?" Amanda poked and prodded. "What did she say about me? Anything? Did she ask about our relationship?"

"Did you forget that part yesterday where I mentioned that she's a fan of your streams? She knows about us, and she knows about you," I pointed out, as I walked off to tend to another customer's order. "Think on that first part, if she likes you enough to watch your stream without having ever met you, what's the worry?"

An iced latte and strawberry shortcake later, I got back to Amanda only to find her slurping away at an empty cup. 

"Stream-me isn't the same as me-me," She quietly muttered, placing her drink on the saucer. "She doesn't know who I really am personally. What if we just don't… vibe with each other? Some people are just incompatible no matter what, right? Ah, her hobbies! Give me her hobbies! What does she like to do? Do we have anything in common? Does she like lattes like me?"

"She hates coffee."

Amanda gulped, her face instantly turning dark and somber. Seriously, this girl's a piece of work - and I thought I had the tendency to overthink things. 

"Look, Amanda," I placed a hand on her shoulder. "Drink preferences are not the be-all-end-all way of gauging common interests," and smiled at her reassuringly. Now, pick another, pick anything, next one is definitely the one."

"I like my pizza with pineapples."

"Oh, okay, she hates you forever, then."

Had half a mind to call the police. Tell them about a dead body that inexplicably appeared in the cafe, but before I could get to the phone, somehow through some divine miracle, the corpse called Amanda roused back to the living.

"Maybe it's not too late to change pizza preferences…" She searched my eyes desperately. "When is she arriving again?" 

"You know when," I said, scoffing, taking the cup from her clutches before she shatters it from the sheer pressure of her palms. "I saw your phone - you got like nine reminders pinned on the day itself."

"Yeah, but has it changed?" She asked, frantic. "Things can happen last-minute! Plans can change last-minute! Your sister's arriving last-minute!"

"Okay, alright," I calmed her down. "Date hasn't changed. You have four days more to learn to like all the cheesy pizzas you can eat."

Amanda blew a deep disheartened sigh, slumping into her seat, and clicking her tongue in defeat, grumbling, "I don't even like cheese…" 

"Maybe not, but you like me," I said, leaning myself closer with a charming smile. "And if it's for me…" 

"I'll go order some pizza at home," with a screech of her seat, Amanda plopped her feet onto the floorboards, leaving the premises slumped, distressed, but nevertheless, burning determined. "Are you free after work?"

"Dunno," I frowned. "Why?"

"Pizza together?"

"Ah…" My frown grew more prominent. "Maybe, maybe not, we'll see. I'll call you." 

"Alright," She stroked my cheek goodbye, smiling faintly as she departed. "Here's hoping." 

I watched her go through the window until every last inch of her disappeared left, half-tempted to actually take her up on the offer. But that's the thing, Amanda's not the only one dying here. There are so many things I'm still waiting on pins and needles here too.

Sera has yet to get back to me, so Ria's just burning away oxygen alone there at the park… and anytime that could change, anytime I'll be called to go visit her, and nothing's going to stop me from doing so.

Unless of course, Amelia gets to me first. She's still wanting to talk to me. I'm just anticipating, bracing myself… every time I go to sleep, I just expect her to be staring down at me from the foot of my bed. 

There are just so many other things to tend to, so many things that need my attention more, even right now… I shifted my focus elsewhere, veering my eyes left… hearing that melodious jingle of bells once more.

Another customer.

I blinked. "Oh."

Not just another customer, apparently. Not with those piercing dark hazel eyes, nor with that raven-black bun on her head fitted tight.

Her walk deeper into the premises was what gave her away first. The commanding, confident stride with her head held high. Secondly was her attire there, that sleek black uniform meant she was on duty still. 

So what was she doing here? Certainly couldn't be police business, that's for sure.

I watched her wary eyes scour about… until eventually, they caught sight of mine staring back. She made a beeline for me, and that's when I finally confirmed it.

It was us-business, after all.

Could have at least sent a text first, Irene.

"Good morning, welcome to the Seven Cloves Cafe," I greeted the detective before me with a smile. "Can I tempt you to have a slice of our Succubus' Bliss?"

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