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I have lived my whole life in Thor. It is a quaint little town in the heart of the Route 61 highway. My solitary life is just the way I like it. My life revolves around the Route 61 highway restaurant and my acute precision in preparing the best fried cod ever for the truckers who frequent my restaurant. My perfect routine is broken one night when Stefan, a young trucker, breaks my precision by flirting with me just because he is bored. He is anything but civil towards me. He only ever barks out orders at me and he hardly ever notices me. Still there is something about him which mesmerizes me- the lush depths of his soulful eyes. It is almost like he is an old soul. The moment he enters my life, I change from the clockwork woman to one who is as wild and restless just like the red in my hair.But there is something amiss about Stefan. It goes much deeper than his gruff behaviour towards me. Was he only there when I needed him most because he had to silence me? How do I walk away from him and not miss him when he is gone? What do I tell my heart? **The eyes were the window to the soul; was it not right? So much depth in so young a man. He barked out, "How much for the both of us?"I hit the ground rock bottom immediately upon hearing that deep voice of his. He had never spoken kindly to me. He had only ever barked out at me as if civil conversation with a waitress / manager / Miss Do it All at the restaurant was an alien concept to him. I wondered if he did regard me inferior. I told him the amount and he took out some notes from his pocket. Money exchanged hands with me being cautious about not touching his hands. Despite all my conscious efforts of no contact, just as I was handing him the change, he clenched my fingers together. I jolted at the abruptness of his action, wondering what came over him. The intoxicating warmth of his palms did not help ease my heightened state of emotions. Instead I felt terribly unearthed by him because at some primordial level, I felt an affinity to his touch. It was so soothing and warm, almost like a..."Heater." I said. The words spoke themselves out before I could even think. "I beg your pardon?" He asked. At least the question had not an ounce of his usual bark. He was instead intrigued by my wanton precision of the word."I mean..." I paused before continuing, "I just realised that it is getting a little draughty and cold inside...and I really should set the temperature a few degrees higher." I said, all in one go and feeling terribly flustered. Either the warmth of his palms had diverted my attention or I did indeed feel the chill. Either way I had better adjust the thermostat to provide me with all the warmth I needed. Nothing a good, reliable, old heater could not do. I could not possibly want nor need... His palms still held my fingers in that warm clench. Did he not realize that he had my hands in his?"I'm far from cold, but I'm not the right person to ask. I was always much too warm, even as a child." He said, looking at me in all due seriousness. His voice seemed quite civil now.Our gazes locked once again. His eyes softened on mine. And there was the bark surfacing again. "Please keep the change. It was a good meal."It was only then he released his clench on my fingers. I had forgotten all about the change in my clasp; the notes were crumpled to bits now. I had made much ado about nothing It took me some time to correspond the tone of his voice to the fact that he had enjoyed the meal I cooked, however much he sounded like a disgruntled customer. When I was sorting out my delayed reaction, he felt compelled to speak, albeit rudely. However his words far from indicated displeasure."Thank you. I will come again." From a bark, he went to a grunt of sorts. He did not look like he wanted to come again. In fact, he looked like he was annoyed at me and I was probably the last person he wanted to see on this planet alive...