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Claws scraped against the worn granite countertop as Cleo slammed the cappuccino onto the saucer. A hiss hissed through her whiskers, aimed less at the lukewarm latte and more at the world in general.
Twenty-nine and simmering, Cleo navigated life in a perpetual state of annoyance. Customers were annoyances, the milk frother was an annoyance, even the sunshine streaming through the cafe window annoyed her with its relentless positivity.
It wasn't just a cat thing, though Cleo would readily blame her feline heritage for her predisposition to grump. No, Cleo's bitterness ran deeper, forged in the crucible of a broken heart and a string of thankless jobs. The coffee shop, with its aroma of burnt beans and forced cheer, was just the latest battleground in her war against the world.
Her only solace was the curious girls that sometimes came into her cafe, the customers with the pretty eyes or a laugh that could crack even Cleo's crustiest cynicism.
Maybe, just maybe, in the steamy haze of espresso and the clatter of ceramic cups, Cleo could find a flicker of something other than irritation. But for now, she'd settle for scaring off another latte-loving latte-lifer with a well-placed growl and a withering glare. Let them know they weren't welcome in Cleo's corner of the universe, one lukewarm macchiato at a time.
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