Snippet #2140605

"I'm bringing up your suitcase and putting it in your room," said the muscular and admittedly attractive senior staff member Hadrian Douwell. Alina rubbed her upturned nose - she hoped she wouldn't have a bruise from the fall. Alina had to look perfect. She pursed her lips to the side, making her dimples sink in, as she watched Hadrian climb the stairs carrying her massive orange suitcase like it weighed next to nothing. It would be so easy for Hadrian to kill her if he could carry something twice her weight with such breeze - he could pick her up and throw her off a cliff. Alina fiddled with the beige frills of her skirt, wishing she could shrink away and disappear.

Come on," Ivan who'd introduced himself with reluctance, said. "There's no time for dawdling. Wash your hands." Alina was shuffled behind the counter. She did as she was told, listening as Ivan chugged the machines to life - the red haired man seemed to have a fondness for objects. Alina wished she was an object. She wished she was an object in a secluded corner with no brain to know any better.

The water ran through her fingers and Alina was drowning.

Quickly turning the tap off after realising she'd been standing there for quite some time, Alina took a step away from the sink and stood still. She imagined how the stove might explode at any minute and a part of her wished it would. She wouldn't mind shattering into pieces. She'd probably be a lot more useful as an organ donor. Listening to the hum of the kitchen, Alina wished she could sink into the floor.

Fade away into oblivion and be Alina no more.

Suddenly, it was as if a wave of tranquility washed Alina the clumsy and paranoid girl away and replaced her with a whole new set of traits. She stood taller, with an air of no-nonsense about her. This was what they wanted her to be so this was what she would be. Her face was blank, unreadable, foreign. Her emerald eyes paled, their brightness fading and turning into a wintry green.

Alina strode towards Hadrian and placed a delicate hand on his and asked for the drinks of the customer she'd fallen on. "Okay," she acknowledged after he told her. Americano, Cappuccino and two lattes. As if in a trance, she made the drinks at the barista near the sitting area. She moved quickly and precisely, not clumsy at all. Alina couldn't cook for the life of her - it was one of the many things she'd failed at - but she could make beverages likes a Goddess.

Balancing the drinks on a brown plate, she glided towards the green haired man, setting his drinks down gently without spilling a drop despite the fullness of it. The Cappucino and lattes had intricate designs of lion heads on the froth. She beamed brightly, teeth practically sparkling in his face as her dimples deepened on both sides of her cheeks. "Enjoy your drinks, sir! I apologise for running into you earlier. I hope you're not injured. I'm terribly sorry, once again. Do you need anything else, sir?"

She was slightly bowed at her hips and her incredibly short skirt barely covered her butt. The tables were low and she had to tilt her head slightly to look into the dark eyed customer's eyes, making the long blonde pony tails on both sides of her head swing forward.

"And - oh, I'm afraid I don't know your name."