Mister Miles
This is my first story to be an original furry work, over my usual fan fiction. I'm sorry that it's not longer, but I'm not quite used to having longer works. It will be chapter by chapter though. I hope you all enjoy and can lead me closer to the right path.
I walked out from behind the counter, glancing around. My brown fur was unkempt in places from the sprint to make it here on time. A small black leather booklet for my orders and checks hung loose from my right hand. Tables 3, 4, and 6 were occupied and ordered. I glanced between tables, making sure no one was sitting without anything. Someone was sitting in my section without a thing in front of him. He was in... table 5, a fox, glasses slid halfway down his muzzle as he leered at the newspaper in front of him, his fur like fire. It's been a long time since there's been a fox in here. This would be fun!
"So, mister, what do you want to start off with or would you just like a coffee?" I spoke as I walked up. I popped a piece of gum in and started chewing. It was minty and overall a nice change over the taste of the hot dog I had on break... not the best idea.
"Coffee sounds good," he said without much as glancing up.
"Mister, we have specialty coffees and we do the various intensities. What kind do you want?" I asked, a smile curving my lips as I chewed my gum, a feat in itself.
"Don't chew while you speak..." he muttered, barely audible words and barely noticeable mouth movements. He wasn't very friendly... He glanced up, his eyes drawn to where my nametag was, well, was supposed to be. "What's your name?" he said, flipping a page of the newspaper.
"Dusk," I said. That was a lie, my name was Dustin Lowell. My friend's used to call me Dusk... because, well, my insomnia I think. They never explained.
"Just get me black coffee or something." I nodded, opening the book to scrawl the order into the small book. It was a policy I guess, didn't really enjoy it. I darted off and poured the coffee, stepping back as some of the dark liquid splashed over and nearly scalded me... not quite. Once I had gotten over the initial surprise, I turned on my heel and hurried back to the fox to give him his liquid of death.
"Here you go mister," I said, setting the cup and... crap. "Be right back," I said. I forgot the saucer for the glass again. Once one was in my hand, I slid it under the cup. I needed to sit.
"Do you mind if I sit here...?" I bit my lip to hold back the impending 'mister.'
"No, go ahead," he said without so much as lifting his eyes from the jet black text. He took a small sip from his coffee and returned to reading. After a few seconds, I took my seat. It was kinda nice of him... I guess.
"So, how old are you Dusk," he put emphasis on my name. That asshole was mocking it... I held back the words. I glanced at him with relatively, I hope, dull eyes. I noticed a small puff of white running from his chin and expanding at the collar of his shirt, but only got a brief glance before the newspaper covered him up again.
"Sixteen," I said. I wanted to push the conversation forwards, enticing a, "You?" from my mouth. I was too lazy to form full sentences anyways.
"Thirty-four," he said. I nearly added something, but he took a drink of his coffee and I waited, and waited, and waited. The cup just stayed suspended by his lips, like he was waiting for something. Oh, duh.
I lost the words for a moment, finally blurting out, "Do you like reading books and stuff like that mister?"
"My name is Miles, but yes, yes I do," he spoke without much of a fluctuation in voice even though it seemed like he oh so needed it. He glanced up at me over his glasses, reminding me of back when my father was still alive... and he'd look up at me with that exact same look. My smile got a little broader as I tried to keep myself from cracking.
He lifted the cup and drank the rest of it down in a few seconds. I cut him off as he reached for his pocket, "I'll cover it if you do one thing for me."
"And that is?" he questioned, glancing at me through heavy-lidded eyes with a certain distaste for me wasting his time.
"I have a manuscript sort of thing that I was thinking of sending in, to a publishing house. Maybe you could look it over and see if there's anything I could fix about it. There's a copy at my house; but, I'd need your number to get a hold of you when I find it. Will you read it mis- Miles," I smiled and glanced at him, hoping for a good response.
He grabbed up the napkin and withdrew a pen from his pocket, scrawling the number onto the paper. With that, he handed it to me, "I don't know how good it could be if you can barely speak; but, I guess I can read it." He stood up as I digested the information. He was about to open the door when I realized what had happened.
I shot for the door as soon as it opened, shouting, "I have to take my break real quick!" He had turned around to glance at me, pushing the glasses back up with a claw without even slightly breaking his gaze. I took the opportunity and charged, pulling him into a hug, "Thanks mister!"
The startled look on his face as I pulled away, I think, had vanished quick enough I guess... but, he's the first person to read it. It's copy written and all, but there was a person to finally read it, I mean wow.
"I'll try and find it tonight, call you tomorrow!" I said as I shot back to the restaurant, waving to him as I spun into the still closing door.
I can't believe it, I had someone who would read and would give me their opinion and... and... and I met an adult, other than my mother, who doesn't hate me.
I pulled some of my tip money from my pocket and stashed a dollar in the register. It was enough for the coffee. I glanced at the number in the napkin crushed in my energetic, for once, fingertips.
1(104)-413-3125...