No One Deserves To Be Alone (RussiaXReader)You walked from table to table, scribbling down orders on your notepad before giving them to the head chef to fill, constantly on the move as the evening progressed in the small restaurant you worked in. Despite its relatively shady location in one of the less desirable neighborhoods of New York, everyone loved the welcoming feeling that your workplace brought.
You were pleasant with everyone who came in, a kind smile given to a young couple, a quick conversation with one of the regulars, reassuring a small child who had spilled her drink that it was really no problem, the little things that seemed to matter. Being fresh out of college, this job seemed like a godsend, the paycheck keeping you afloat and then some as you searched for your dream job, and your way of thanking the owners would be to treat the customers with respect and kindness.
Your section of the restaurant had a slight lull, and you went to the kitchen to talk with Kensi, a fellow waitress and one of your good friends.