Come semini, cosi raccogli.

As ye sow, so shall ye reap.

"Even a bloody café is discriminating, can you believe it?" I groaned in frustration, narrowing my eyes in order to read the sign plastered on the clear glass door.

This café is divided into three main sections: Medicine, Arts and Science. Crossing between sections is allowed only by acquainting yourself with people whose field of expertize is written on the labels.

If that formulation did not resemble a preface of a sect dogma, I seriously needed a shrink appointment.

"Relax, it is simply meant to make you socialize with people outside of your clique." Georgia, my calm, neutral, fight-ceasing friend explained. Listening to whatever her heart-shaped lips uttered was easy as falling off a log. The melody of her voice was most definitely not a trait to be overpassed – men clearly did not.

Whereas I... well, I came down to people like a ton of bricks. Hard, rectangular, crimson bricks of elitism, straight-forward critique and the ambition of a usurper. How I managed to balance my personality with my faith was as much of a riddle as were my Philosophy lessons back in high-school.

"So, if we were to enter this mystic shamble, you and I would sit in different sections, right?" I found myself asking, chewing on my bottom lip as my eyes glided over the interior of the café. The transparency of the front door made my prying reasonably easy.

"It depends on whether or not you want to sit with me in the Art section. Although I presume you would prefer another establishment." Georgia chuckled, bells tinkling in her soft voice.

I heaved in discontent at her ability to read me, then pulled a cigarette out of my trench-coat pocket. Rolling it smoothly and licking just its tip with my tongue, I lit a match. It was oddly comforting to let the smoke linger in your lungs for more than it was socially permitted.

"Smoking again? I thought you quit." Georgia's lips rapidly formed a pout, one that could get her a Christmas present long before it was even Santa time.

I stamped my foot against the vintage exterior wall of the café and puffed a few times, all the while glaring at Georgia's motherly figure – a figure which, mind my blatancy, was trying awfully hard to scold me.

"Try being a Med student for a mere week and then dare accuse me of sinning."

Georgia folded her arms, obviously harmed in her artsy ego. We had had several arguments over the past year regarding the relevance of each other's domains, but irritatingly came to no mutual conclusion.

"Let's just go inside." I picked a boiling vibe in her tone, but let it slide away. Judging her yet again would be like icing on the cake – an ironic expression, if one was aware of Georgia's allergy to every type of cake.

I reluctantly put my cigarette out and entered the said Hobbiton – or Cave Troll, I was still pondering on a suitable synonym.

"Lovely evening, isn't it? Welcome to Erudite, the café where all the fine ladies and gentlemen of Medicine, Arts and Science gather. How may I be of service?" A twenty-something ponytail-meets-cringy-vocals gal chirped.

You can start by turning your volume down just a tad. My insatiably sarcastic conscience lurked out of its hollow.

"Good evening. It is lovely, indeed." Georgia smiled as brightly as the dyed placer. "I have been here before, this is my Student Card."

"Oh, Arts! Haven't had a brushy person in a while, Georgia!" Minnie Mouse' live version laughed at her own joke.

Georgia smiled courtly, pointing towards me with her slender, nail-polished finger. "This is my friend, Leonore, a second year Medical student."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, newbie Leonore!"

I forced an incredibly rigid smile on my face, my cheek bones hurting for how long I have maintained that falsity. "Likewise." I almost gagged my response, but I hoped that giving the placer my Student Card would shut her up for a while.

Oh, dear, was I wrong...

"I think you will consider this café your second home, any time now. There are several subdivisions in the sections, but I will gradually fill you in. The trick here is that you can stay within your field, in your case General Medicine, or you can visit others only by making friends with an artsy person or a science-y person. You see?"

I released a ragged breath before I picked another cigarette and lit it right in front of the ponytailed woman.

"You cannot sm..."

"Shush." I ordered, raising my index promptly. I closed my eyelids for a brief couple of seconds, already feeling my temples throbbing hastily. "Allow me to sum up, then." I said, making circular waves of smoke in the entire hall.

"You divide people into labels like a bloody butcher. A hunk of pork here, a slice of beef there, perhaps even some rabbit leg." I spit the words out, moving my cigarette from one side to the other in order to prove my point. "Things like spiritual and emotional compatibility never really crossed your manager's mind, didn't they?"

Both the placer's and Georgia's mouths dropped to the floor, their quirked eyebrows indicating that I may have overstepped a certain line of diplomacy. To hell with hypocrisy, I thought.

"Isn't it exactly what you have been doing for your entire existence?" I froze in a jiffy, my cigarette bare seconds away from falling on the carpet and burning a hole in it.

I gulped down heavily, turning on my heels with as much caution as I could master. Oh, God, not his eyes. Please, please, do not make me look into those sapphire hues.

"Look at me, Leonore." He instructed, the bass undertones of his voice creeping under my sensitive skin. "Do not make me waste more oxygen to repeat myself." He continued the flesh-grazing chills of his order, and I could not help but succumb to his demand.

The ashes unevenly landed from my cigarette as my hand began quivering. God, have mercy. I compelled my gaze to fall upon his, and my heart did a plié just by catching the slightest glimpse of his orbs – adamant, lagoon-blue eyes that could drain me of every armour I have fought to stabilize.

"Apologize to my employee this instant." His voice must have been forged in steel, for there was no rational explanation as to why he managed to have me under his leash so effortlessly.

"Em..."

"You cannot even say my name, eh? Poor, poor Leonore." There was this bitter mockery in his tone that caged my emotions in a conflict rarely seen or comprehended.

I heaved, lowering my gaze and doing exactly as I had been told. The placer smiled in compassion, accepting my apology, and returned to the clients who were impatiently waiting for their registration.

"L, who is..." Georgia placed a hand on my arm, but I flinched immediately and removed her touch. I was repulsed for letting her see what that man could make of me.

"You know, Leonore..." He approached me steadily, a malevolent smirk stitching his perfectly plump mouth. He trailed the contour of my wrist and brought my cigarette to his mouth, his hand capturing mine. He moistened the tip with his lips, inhaling deeply, and noticed my tremor as he exhaled the smoke right into my mouth. There were subtleties in his choice of gesture that might blur in the eyes of an ignorant beholder, but I knew. I observed them all.

"The whole point of healing through faith is making sure you never return to your old self, am I right? Therefore, how are you making goody ol' God proud if you cannot escape that sinful tongue of yours?"

He thought I could not repent. He still did.

"I am sure you would not like history to repeat its heart-breaking events. That poor family..." His words lingered on my past just the right amount of time, until my eyes became tear-stricken.

"S-stop it." I pleaded, my steps taking me closer to Georgia, whose mind was probably assaulted with ceaseless questions.

"I will stop." He agreed, brushing my shoulder on his way to the line of hangers. Putting his coat on, he straightened the maroon collar and got a firm hold on the door knob. Fractions before he left the café – his café – he turned around.

"For now." He winked, that haunting gaze nudging me into a reminiscence I longed to forget.