Coffee Kiss

Hazel is just a simple girl in University trying to do what every other person tries to do. Pay off the massive debt of going to University. But Hazel works in a cafe where she does her job like the good worker she is. One day. One day is all it takes for her life to change from a simple, normal girl, to some one battling for life, escaping situations she would never have previously imagined herself in.
Hazel is saved by a man who doesn't just save her from death, but from a broken heart. Together they battle through hard ships that happen in life, the harsh reality that could really happen in anyone. But in this case, it wasn't just anyone. It was Hazel, and this is her story.


2. Chapter 2


I wake up staring at the familiar ceiling of my bedroom, and I sigh as I relish in the feel of being back in me bed, and I smile sleepily in joy as I cuddle further into the plush covers.

Trying to pull the covers up higher, I gasp in sudden pain as my side burned in fiery pain; I peek underneath the covers to see that I was clad in only my bra and pants.

I blushed crimson at the thought of someone undressing me, as there was no way that I had done this to my self, I hated sleeping like this.

The thing that caught most of my attention however was the large bandage that stretched across my midriff to my belly button and I could distinctly see red seeping through the bandages, spotting them with blood.

I let the covers drop and pressed a hand to my forehead as the night's previous events flashed through my mind. My blood ran cold at the thought of that man's knife pressed against my throat and the feel of his bones poking through his shirt and I internally shivered in disgust, wishing that I could rid myself of the memories of the stench, and cool touch of the blade against my throat.

My insides twisted as my mind painted the vivid picture, as if it was happening all over again.

Some snoring caught my attention, and I immediately deduced that it had to be who ever undressed me, patched me up, and saved my life.

My eyes scanned the room looking for my savior. Then, in the corner of my room, curled up in a chair, was a man with dark hair, his face buried in his arms as he lay sprawled across the chair, asleep.

I managed myself into a sitting position, pain flaring through my every movement, and looked at the clock.

I groaned, if I wasn't previously fired, I definitely was now.

It was 9:00 am and my shift started at 6:30 am.

There was no way that my boss would be able to take any more of my excuses, even if I told her that I was mugged and stabbed; I would not be able to salvage my job.

My stomach growled, releasing the hungry sound and I wondered on when was the last time I had anything to eat.

Ignoring the pain in my side, I focused on my ravenous hunger instead and swung my legs over the side gingerly, taking in a deep breath before pushing my body up into something that resembled a standing position, my hands clutching my side as it felt like someone had rammed a burning hot knife into me and was slowly carving out my insides.

That explanation was actually not far from the truth I joked, pushing through the pain.

I didn't realize I was being held up by someone until I noticed that my entire body was tingling and saw two strong arms support my frail and weak body.

I sneaked a peek at the figure beside me and felt all my breath leave my lungs, my blood turning hot.

It was my savior, the glorious angel that I was convinced was a figment of my imagination from losing so much blood, was standing right beside me, holding my injured body against his own.

His grey eyes looked over me angrily "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to rip out your stitches and bleed out?" he barked as he picked me up like a sack of potatoes and lay be back on the bed none too gently.

I was too shocked to come up with a retort, and lay limply on the bed as he examined the .

Who knew that such a beautiful face could house such a harsh personality?

I tried to sit back up indignantly but I was stopped by a firm hand holding me back and a hiss of pain as I felt my wound burn, and tear.

Blood started to rapidly  color the sheets red as they bleed though the bandages and the mysterious man cursed, taking out a knife and ripping open the bandage.

"Shit, you opened your stitches." he cursed. and he quickly brought out his knife and began cutting away the bandage, but he stopped briefly just before taking it off completely, turning too look at me with a sudden softness and a grimace.

"You might want to look away for this, that asshole really did a number on you." he said quietly.

A part of me wanted to know exactly how bad my wound was but then I realized that I didn't want to see the full effect of what that bastard had done to me, and I turned my head to the side, feeling him take off the bandage.

Cold air hit the hot skin, I could practically feel the pain radiating off of me, the wound burned; searing with agony which increased ten fold when the man pressed a gentle hand to the surrounding area.

I hissed and cursed, practically writhing in pain were it not for the level of intense pain making me immobile. 

He frowned "It's infected." he stated "I need you to stay here while I get some supplies, and then I'm going to ask you some questions." 

He stood up, his grey eyes looking at my wound with a determined face before exiting my room without another word.

Not being able to contain myself longer I leaned over to catch a glimpse of the wound, and bile rose to my throat.

It was a large, jagged line that went from my hip to just before my belly button. The was open and seeping blood with a mixture of puss, the surrounding area of my skin looked pulled tight and feverish.

This. I thought. This is what that man had done to me.

My thoughts went back to the man who saved me, he hadn't even told me his name, and I suspect that he demand to take me to the hospital.

I sighed, I swore that I wold never go back to that awful place. There were things . . . I would prefer . . . to never remember and hospitals brought torrents of memories that would haunt my dreams. 

Flashes of my mother and me joking and laughing passed through my mind, and then images of the haunted white halls of the hospital; teeming with busy nurses and doctors who were all crowding around a figure that had collapsed on the floor.

I struggled to contain the rapid current of memories as my vision blurred with tears, and I took in deep calming breaths.

"Alright, I need you to lay as still as possible." he commanded me as he came back into the room, his arms overflowing with bandages, alcohol, and a sewing kit.

I managed to brush away any stray tears and accommodated to his request, trying to lay as still as possible as the sting of my wound gave no notice of lessening.

He snapped on some latex gloves and approached the bed with alcohol swabs; he appeared like some handsome doctor who was going to ravish me any minute, I would have melted on the spot were it not for the hardened glint I saw in his eye.

I held my hand out to stop him when he reached for my stomach, his grey eyes meeting mine.

"I don't even know your name." I said weakly.

His eye softened, "Wesley, now calm down, I need you to grit and bear the pain because you don't have anything here to lessen the pain." 

Wesley, I though, what handsome name for a handsome guy.

Soon my thoughts were overshadowed by the agony that went through me as I felt the cold swab soaked in alcohol brush my wound, but I grit my teeth and hissed, trying to fight off the waves of pain.

"Talk to me." I tell Wesley through gritted teeth "Take my mind of the pain."

His eyes flickered to mine as he continued to gently swab the infected area, earning another wave of tormenting agony on my part.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked gently.

I tried to think of anything but the burning sensation that seemed to be coursing through my body "Um, tell me how you saved me." I manage

He raised an eyebrow, "Well I was walking out of a little cafe, where I stop by every morning. I hear a scuffle and see the girl who would make my coffee every morning with a knife against her throat."

I tried to recollect any memory of ever serving him coffee, but is face blurred with the many other people who would come for my coffee every morning.

"Obviously, I couldn't survive without the coffee you would expertly make every morning, so I attack the idiot but not before he lodges the knife in your side." his tone turns from playful to grave, and I could hear the worry in his voice.

"I beat the man bloody but he got away, I would have chased after him were it not for the bleeding waitress on the floor." he finished.

I had not noticed that my wound was now once again wrapped in bandages, still searing in pain but less than before. With each breath I took, I could actually feel the stitches stretch and pull at my skin.

"Thank you Wesley, for saving my life . . . I don't know how I'm going to be able to repay you." I say truthfully, looking up into his wintry grey orbs.

He stood up abruptly "You sweetheart still have to answer some questions for me."

I groaned, I knew it. He was going to drag me back to the hospital and I would be stuck in there once again.

"First, what is your name? It is only common courtesy of course." he said sarcastically.

My lips twitched at his obvious attempt at humor, despite the grave situation.

" The name is Hazel Smith." I said curtly, using the new last name that I had acquired just last week at the legal office.

Wesley nodded good naturally, and stripped his hands of the latex gloves with a satisfying snap.

"Good, now we are getting somewhere. Let's get straight to it, why didn't you want to go to the hospital? You could have easily have died, which would probably lead in them pinning your death on me." 

I pursed my lips, this man was not going to beat around the bush, and I was grateful for it.

"Let's just say that going to the hospital was going to do more harm than good, some people might say I have had a tendency to end up there quite too often in the past years." I say, it was in fact partly the truth after all.

He turned around, and the full force of his handsomeness hit me again, while I on the other hand probably looked like I had made it off the set of The Walking Dead.

He smirked, sending butterflies straight to my stomach. "There is no way I am going to take that for an answer Hazel."

I shivered at the way my name rolled off his tongue, but my mind was busy scrounging my imagination for any conceivable lie. As I came up with a blank, I gave up.

"There was a time when I was diagnosed with a tumor, it was growing on my heart and I was told that there was little to no survival chance because of where it was located and that even the chemo would not be able to shrink it down. My parents were devastated, but we came to the definite conclusion that we were going to go along with the surgery no matter the risk." I gulped as my throat began to close from emotion, but I forced my voice to sound flat and unfeeling.

"The surgery was successful, I was remission and was soon rid of any remaining trace of cancerous cells in my body. But the day I went home was the worst day of my life, my mother collapsed in front of me and after we rushed her to the hospital it was too late. She had a stroke, and while they were worrying so much about me the stress must have finally gotten too much for my mother. After that, it was a down hill spiral. My father went into drinking and he later died from OD on some drug while I was at school. And I got involved in all sorts of trouble. Needless to say, I have been to the hospital one too many times, and never for a good reason. I will never step foot in those retched halls again." I finished vehemently

Wesley was quiet the whole time, but I hadn't noticed that he was standing next to me and had placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I only looked at him in the eyes, not needing to say anything as he nodded stiffly in understanding.

He clapped me on the shoulder, but gently. "Well, let me make you some breakfast, might do some good to get some color back in your face." he started towards the door but I stopped him.


He turned around curiously "What's wrong damsel? Need anything? Kiss on the boo-boo?" he teased.

My jaw dropped and I tried to breath deeply as his answer shocked me into embarrassment, this man was ridiculous! 

But that did nothing to stop the slow burning blush that made its way onto my face.

"No." I huffed, trying to seem unaffected "But exactly how long have I been bed ridden?"

"About three days." 







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