xxxxxxxbleary
xxxxxxxxxxxxsentient blades // oneshot
xxxxxxxxxxxxlisten while you read
The world outside was dark, wet and bleak at 5 am.
Leaning against the polished wood counter, a tall lanky man watched the lights reflect off the windows of the cars rushing by. It was early enough in the morning there weren't any customers yet and late enough in the 'evening' last night's drunkards had long gone home. This left him alone with his thoughts and his homework, spread out across the bar of the cafe. But it was hard to concentrate on formulas or equations when the pitter patter of rain kept fooling him in to glancing up for footsteps.
'What are you doing? No one's here.' Running a hand through his bangs and across his forehead, Hakeem shut his textbook with the other. Maybe he was just getting tired. A whiff of espresso would fix that.
It'd been five months since graduation last June and he'd since relocated back to Kanipanaj, settling into college life at Karvard. He'd taken up the barista job to pay his way through, not quite earning enough scholarships or grants to pay for everything. His family lived across the city, nearby enough for a visit but distant enough to keep his independence. It was a dream realized for the young scholar, Hakeem was exactly where he'd mapped out his life to take him.
These days, though, he was regretting the job.
"I'll have a grande coffee, black no sugar." He could still hear her order in his head and even see the icy heiress sip away without a hint of distaste at the bitter liquid. In his mind she always sat at the table one away from the counter so as to not seem interested in his actions. Her ankles were crossed with hands neatly folded on the table as she spoke, pausing whenever she was required to listen. Lorelei liked to talk about herself.
He liked that about her. She glanced up hearing something and he cleared his throat to speak up-
"Hey, I'm late I know but-" Hakeem's throat hitched with loneliness as the imaginary figure of his best friend pushed through the door with his usual carelessness and energy. The brunette grabbed onto the back of a chair and turned it to face the woman's table, sitting down on it all as one fluid motion.
"You didn't order for me? That's cold, princess." Leaning back in his seat comfortably, the athletic man let his eyes settle on his partner's irritable face. She hated nicknames like that.
"I didn't know what you'd like." Her excuse was poor, by now she'd have to know his habits, his routines. It would be impossible, they all knew, to trudge through the barren wilderness searching for Jelorent, to coup up in that stuffy airship together, to spend days recovering on sunset beachy shores relearning to walk without learning the most intimate of things about each other.
He still remembered the worn leather notebook Nashi keep close to her chest in case she fell in battle. "So they'd find my music, whoever found me," she'd murmured when he'd asked why. Her voice was always soft and low but that time it'd sounded fierce as she'd explained to him, "To be remembered for my songs, not my battles."
The memory of dark determined eyes sent a cool wave through him and he forced himself to look away from the gray world beyond the glass windows, certain it was the reason behind his quiet melancholy today. The ghosts vanished from their seats.
A snack would help him restore his spirits, he was sure. No one was here, customers or coworkers, so he padded back to the back room to retrieve his unfinished dinner from earlier. The heat from his curry was enough to rouse him from his sleepy state of mind momentarily but the heavy scent of coffee dragged him back down and he ate in a quiet resignation.
'I miss them,' Vibrant aquamarine eyes glanced down at his lunch, remembering the miserable meal they'd shared that cold day on the way to Haegun as the frost bit at their sides and winds threatened to slam them down from the mountainside.
"There's a cave down there behind that wall." At that point, they'd all stopped questioning just how Ferro could possibly know so much and learned a strong sense of gratitude for his never ending flow of knowledge. One by one, they'd climbed unstably towards the dark little cavern, lit later by a fire provided by one of the cyborg's spells.
"Watch your step." He spoke with little emotion but offered a hand out to help Karteley down. It was odd. They'd noticed his lack of empathy and speech but it was little motions like these that convinced them Ferro was simply shy rather than abnormal. They could not fault him for not being vocal.
Rations circulated and the small fire flickered across their faces, the exhaustion weighing blatantly on some of them. Jelorent was still far away somewhere, deep in Morcast they were guessing, and there were still many miles to go.
Judal leaned his head against the back of Rurik's stronger muscular frame with a weak vulnerability, mumbling something no one else could hear, and the conman let out a chuckle, wrapping a bandaged arm around the smaller boy.
"Naw, there's only one part of me you c'n eat, squirt." The teal man cracked a teasing grin, poking the boy's stomach, and the pastel mage jumped back in embarrassed anger though Rurik's arm kept him stuck snug in place. That's what he got for always talking about eating his brain or lungs or whatever he fancied at the time. Grumpy and mad as hell, Judal screwed up his face in annoyance, the mood already low in the room, no one expected it- no one expected him to make them laugh.
"I'm not hungry anymore. *****]
The door swung open and startled Hakeem out of his amused daydream, missing out on the playful fight afterwards and he scrambled to tuck his notebooks out of sight below the counter. Peeking up at the newcomer, he could not help but feel a soaring sense of hope that just maybe it was one of-
"What's gotten in you? Not usually so happy to get the newspapers." An old bearded man with dark skin carried a stack of papers inside. The boy blushed and mumbled something about the day's specials, offering the delivery man a discount for his hard work.
"Please don't tell my boss I was studying." A nervous whine came through his voice.
"Yeah yeah. Just pay more attention next time. Never know who's gonna come in here." The man shook his head gruffly at Hakeem, scolding him for his blissful ignorance. Places got robbed around here if people weren't careful. It'd be a shame for a kid to get mixed up in it. A lazy wave and he was off again, the cold morning air drifting back in as the door swung behind him.
Every morning was cold here.
Before he'd left the desert he'd thought nothing of it. Days were hot and nights were chilly. It was so natural to a boy of the sands and he'd grown accustomed to the extreme temperatures, liking the contrast even. It was hard to imagine living anywhere else without the cool mystery of night and the burning passion of the sun every day.
It'd taken the grassy hills of Prycrest and a pair of warm sepia eyes to change that.
Sepia. Like the color of the wooden floor laid out in here. Everything about this place dragged the nostalgia out of him. But he couldn't say he wouldn't drag their faces out of everything at any other job. He could not help but feel a sense of intense self pity for the dull ever-present aching for his friends. Gripping his hands, he wondered though if this was normal. Every teen missed his home and friends after leaving them for college after all, this was not special. Or was it?
How did you go back to the world after saving it?
The clock ticked to 6 and a jingle of exotic chimes played to alert him of the time. Gemma would be just finishing up her morning exercise at this time, he mused. The blonde still kept in touch with him fairly regularly. Not that the others didn't but the athlete was keen on checking in on him. She seemed to know before he had just how hard it would be for him to return to Kanipanaj apart from them. It made sense, he supposed after all he'd told her, that she'd know more about himself than he did. He trusted her and opened up in ways he didn't usually. There was something sisterly or motherly about her and the shy way she texted him routinely just to say goodnight.
"You haven't told them yet, have you?" Her long blonde hair draped down into view as she leaned next to him at the counter. She did not smile at the sight of him but knit her brow in worry, nodding her head back to the ghosts talking loudly in the front of the cafe. When had they...
"It's hard to tell that kind of stuff." Damien stood on the other side of him, arms wrapped nonchalantly behind his head. His eyes fixated on the lavender lady with a bitter sense of longing to them that flared up a heated jealousy in the bottom of the barista's stomach despite his attempts to calm it. The lycanthrope had felt the sting of that frostbite firsthand, he knew from experience how courting the noble had gone.
"He should still try." Gemma gave them both a reproachful look. "And you should call more often." Her eyes softened into a shyer sentimental expression before she flicked her finger at Hakeem's forehead. He let out a chuckle and reached to try and take her hand but grasped at nothing. It was impossible to hold onto something that wasn't really there. Damien let out a snort at his mistake and vanished first. He was too busy to ever stay long in Hakeem's mind, with so much to do for his girlfriend.
Gemma kissed his cheek and told him she'd be by soon once her schedule cleared up before disappearing as well. It was how she ended every email. It didn't surprise him that his subconscious would mention it in these haunting encounters at work.
His eyes drifted back to that table where haughty dialogue and rough annoyance ricocheted back and forth.
"H-hey, you two." Swallowing nervously, bright eyes jumped from face to face as they turned to look at him finally. He'd taken on beasts twice their size and made it through alive. He'd battled Jelorent's armies and survived to this day. It was amazing how easy those tasks seemed in comparison to this.
"You know I l-love you, right?"
"Course you do, man."
Blue eyes simply rolled in response. "Always so sentimental, Hawk."
"No! I mean like-"
The first silver rays of sunlight crept through the windows as the sun rose behind the clouds, passing over them and they faded instantly before he could finish. It seemed they were going through this more and more often these days. The first pedestrian of the morning passed by with a brisk step and he let out a small groan of exasperation.
These graveyard shifts were killing him.
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