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Gwen sits down at her desk and tries to suppress the shiver running through her body. She tries to focus on the physical feeling of her spine against the back of her chair and the feeling of her feet planted against the floor. The fear and exhaustion are manifesting as an unrelenting cold, and no amount of showers or blankets has been able to calm her enough to get the image of that thing out of her head.
She grasps at her coffee with both hands, trying to keep them from shaking. She takes a long sip. The coffee has already begun to cool, but she takes in what warmth it can give her with gratitude.
A small smile unwittingly pulls at her lips as she turns the cup in her hands. Her mind flashes to Alice, and a new kind of warmth starts to rush through her. She pushes the thought away quickly, forcing her mouth into a scowl. The affection she’s been ignoring is a persistent hum in the back of her head, and she doesn’t have the energy to drown it out.
She absently fiddles with the cardboard sleeve. Her stomach drops when she reveals the words beneath it: Mocha/Celia scrawled onto the cup in black Sharpie.
Embarrassment immediately floods her body as she realizes the coffee wasn’t meant for her.
She blinks rapidly, fighting the tears threatening to pool in her eyes. She knows it’s ridiculous, that it’s just a coffee, and it doesn’t matter; but the last few days have been weighing on her and it feels like the last thread of her sanity snapping.
She glances back, feeling foolish for assuming Alice would ever do anything nice for her.
Alice seems to sense Gwen's gaze and turns her chair around to look at her.
“What?” she asks, annoyed.
“Nothing,” Gwen says.
Her mind is racing. She doesn’t know if she should just turn around and pretend she doesn’t know, or if she should acknowledge that the coffee she’s currently drinking was actually meant for Celia. The vulnerability of apologizing feels too big and too much, but the thought of Alice having something to hold over her head makes her stomach twist.
She wants to ignore it, but she doesn’t like the thought of Alice cracking jokes about how appreciative she was for a coffee that wasn’t even hers or telling everyone how stupid she is for not realizing it. She should just apologize and get control over the whole situation before she has to live with the mistake forever.
She knows she has to choose fast. Alice is staring at her and she can practically see the snide remark forming on her lips more with each passing second.
“I just realized this coffee was meant for Celia,” She says, gesturing with the cup. “I will…replace it. Tomorrow. So don’t bother to pick one up for her.”
“Oh,” Alice says “don’t worry about it, I’ll be in the shop anyways. Besides, if you’re gonna be late again tomorrow you might forget and I wouldn’t want poor, sweet Celia to go uncaffeinated two days in a row. That’s just inhumane.”
“I’m not going to be-“ Gwen snaps and cuts herself off. “Here…”
She snatches her purse off of the floor and starts to dig through it.
“It’s really fine,” Alice says.
Gwen shakes her head, rapidly. She pulls out a handful of coins, her hands shaking as she holds them out to Alice without bothering to count it. Alice stares at her like she’s lost her mind, slowly opening her palm when she realizes Gwen isn’t going to give her a choice on the matter. The coins drop into her hand, a few fall out, clatter to the floor, and roll away. Alice unceremoniously shoves them into her pocket, her confusion written all over her face.
“Right. Thanks, I guess,” Alice says. “Can I get back to work now or do you have something else you want to be weird about?”
Gwen shakes her head, worried her voice might waver if she speaks. Alice swivels back around to look at her computer. She doesn’t turn to look at her when she speaks, and Gwen isn’t entirely sure what she means by it when Alice says;
“You really should get some sleep, Gwen.”
“I know.” She says, aiming for snappy but landing on strained. She boots up the computer and hopes the night goes by quickly.
Gwen scurries into work, another sleepless night under her belt. She leaves her flat in haste, driven by her determination to be at work before Alice.
But ambition is not luck, and the tube door closes nearly in her face when she gets stuck behind a tourist who seems to have forgotten people who live here have places to be. She curses to herself as she weaves through the crowded sidewalk.
She manages to slip in 3 minutes early and sinks into her chair. Whether her heart is racing from the lingering fear or the commute, she’s not sure. It takes her a second to notice the paper cup beside her computer.
In cursive, pink letters, the cup says: Black Coffee/Gwen.
She takes a sip. It’s still hot and too bitter, nowhere near how she actually takes her coffee, but it fills her body with warmth and feelings she doesn’t want to dissect.
“Gwen,” Alice says, behind her. You’re looking particularly dreadful this morning. Are the bags beneath your eyes designer, at least? My bet’s on Primark, but they could quite possibly pass as bootleg Gucci if you’ve got poor vision.”
“Very funny, Alice,” she says, swivelling around to face her, coffee in hand.
Alice eyes the cup. Gwen does not say ‘thank you’, and Alice does not say ‘you’re welcome’, but the words are understood nonetheless.
“Get back to work,” she says, after a moment.
“Whatever,” Alice says, “you’re the one who just got here, need I remind you?”
Gwen rolls her eyes and presses her computer on. She tries to suppress a smile as she takes another disgusting sip. Neither of them mentions it, and if Alice notices her periodically smiling, she doesn’t say a word.