Haley Thistle
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Oz the Lizardman (special preview)
🕑 Added 2022-12-14 22:00:01 +0000 UTCI’ve always admired people who are charismatic and have a magnetic personalities that bring people in. I wasn’t blessed with such abilities, in fact, some might say I’m the opposite side of that magnet, and I push away. Not that I’m a bad person or anything, I just don’t look like I am. Even as a baby my mom had to explain to people I wasn’t upset, that was just my face.
I’ve learned to cope and how to work around it. Becoming a writer made that easy, the internet made it even easier. Despite that, I still enjoyed getting out of my place. I loved coffee shops and cafes, even if it looked like I didn’t. I enjoyed going to them, sitting down for a minute, and writing just whatever came to me. I may not be the charismatic main character of my dreams, but I get to see people who are, people who aren’t, and everything in between. It’s nice sometimes.
My favorite to visit was called the Broken Collinder. I had started frequenting it about a year or so ago, and I enjoyed the atmosphere of the palace so much I made it my regular. I would grab my favorite table towards the back corner and enjoy the people outside the window, as well as the ones inside the cafe as well. Don’t get me started on the owner either.
“Excuse me, young lady, but your typing is annoying the customers.”
I looked up from my laptop to see the owner standing right before me. The tall, handsome individual was called Oz, and he suited the emerald green imagery the name conjured quite well.
I closed my laptop and set my empty cup aside. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t realize you could hear it over the hiss of the espresso machine. Considering it sounds like screaming cats and all.”
Oz smirked, leaning onto the table and coming closer to me. “Then why do you always ask for drinks with the espresso?”
I tucked my hair behind my ear. “For the thrill of it.”
He clicked his tongue and lowered closer down towards me. “I don’t get why you creative types always have to come into these little coffee shops and write on your little laptops.”
I was fighting back the urge to break out into a grin. “I’ve never gotten it either.”
Oz put his strong hands around his thick waist. “Why do you do it then, Rocky?”
I shrugged. “Oh, I dunno,” I huffed. “Maybe I like to look at someone.”
His brow arched. “Someone?” He looked around the shop before looking at me with a big smile. “I wonder who that could be.” He leaned down upon the table, wiggling his butt out in a happy sort of dance. His smirk grew, showing off the couple of silver teeth he had in the back of his jaws.
I leaned forward with my chin in my palm. “I would never tell you.”
His eyes grew lidded. “Then maybe I should make you leave.”
I was biting back my own smile. “I would have to pester some other establishment with my typing.”
“I’d find you,” Oz’s tail began to swish back and forth behind him. “I’d follow the sound of your typing.”
My smile finally broke free and I began giggling. Oz leaned across the table to kiss me, cupping my cheek in his cool palm.
He sighed as he pulled back. “What are you writing today?”
“Not much.” I held out my empty cup to him. “Just warm ups.”
Oz tilted his head to the side. “Are you still having trouble with your current novel? You mentioned a few days ago you’d hit a wall.”
I pouted and nodded. “Yeah. I really don’t know what’s up. Everything so far is perfect, it’s all as I want it, but I just can’t…push forward.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” he said with a tender voice. “Maybe you need to stop pushing.”
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Raquel Nightshade
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