𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘

Sitting down at the first table she saw in the cafe with available chairs, Ember sighed before taking a long sip of her drink. “Do you ever wonder if maybe people just.. y’know, all get together one night and decide ‘hey, I’m going to be an asshole tomorrow for absolutely no reason’? I.. I’m pretty sure they do, because today has been full of grumpy, grumpy people, they.. they definitely had an asshole meeting last night, and everyone was invited except me, apparently. I hate this day,” she rambled quickly, looking up to the other person. “Sorry. Ignore me. Go back to your drink, I can be quiet, I promise.”

@wilmingtonstarters​

Kieran wasn’t surprised by the sudden outburst from the woman who took an unexpected seat in front of him. He had been sipping on his drink, waiting for some kind of motivation to push him out of the chair and get the rest of his day going. He laughs, realizing just how much he agrees with her statement. “I think the same thing too, sometimes.” Kieran replies, pulling the straw from his lips. “Like, what makes you want to wake up in the morning and be an asshole to people?”

   At that remark, Jaime let his eyes flick up and down Kieran’s body, taking a guess at how much the artist could really weigh. “Honestly, yeah dude, I totally could,” came his flippant retort, and if Jaime wasn’t still pretty busted up in and in poor shape, he probably could give it a good effort. “Just a bad time for me. Broke my ribs,” Jaime’s words still had a slur to it, but still coherent enough. Then, he continued. Nothing special. That alone made Jaime blink slowly, as if the words made no sense to him. 

  Him? Nothing special? With the ego he packed, Jaime just couldn’t stand for that. “Now who is insultin’ who?” He scoffed, arms crossing. “Fine, you want a 15 minute break, I can do that. Wanna get some fresh air while you catch your breath?” More challenges, more teasing - but still layered with something else, a different energy than Jaime normally had. Maybe it was that brush with near death, or maybe he was just very drunk. “I don’t smoke. Do you smoke?” He was standing now, sloppily fitting his jacket over his body, struggling with the pain in his ribs, so that one arm couldn’t quite make it. “Help?”

“Nah, not much of a smoker either.” Kieran said, shrugging his shoulders. He was surprised he was still standing on two feet, coherent enough to form a thought or hold a conversation. But, here he was. And now, watching Jaime angrily flap his sleeve around, he can’t stop himself from chuckling. Not wanting to watch Jaime struggle any longer, he helps him by gently guiding his arm through the sleeve and over his shoulder. They don’t say a word to each other, but Kieran wants to ask the question he knows Jaime doesn’t want to answer. “There. Better?” Kieran smiles, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

Kieran leans against the wall for support, suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. “Shit. Wait--Yeah, I think it’s getting to me now.” He hadn’t drank like this in a while and he finally considers the idea that maybe he might have overdone it. “How the hell are you still fine?” Kieran asked, weirdly amazed at how well Jaime handled his alcohol.

   “Dude - yeah, it’s a whole, like, sub-style. I just can’t do it. Tattoos are bad-ass, not cutesy,” He laughed, shaking his head. Too many times had half-baked teens tumbled into the shop with intricate, cute designs and Jaime had to politely say not a chance thanks! Most of Jaime’s own work was more darker, playing with shades of gray, and intricate shading. He liked life-like work, or things that tricked the eye, anything but mainstream. On the outside, he didn’t look like a hipster, at least not as much as Kieran did; but deep down, the cliche fit. 

   An eyebrow spiked upwards. “Did I hurt your feelings?” Was his sassy remark - at this point, a bystander wouldn’t be able to predict a likely outcome from this. Would they fight, make-out, or end up passed out on the floor of the bar? “You’re losing, ‘cause I never tap-out,” Jameson promised, and held to his word, matching every shot that slid down Kieran’s throat until even he felt the full weight of a drunken state settle onto his senses. “I’ll give you this,” He slurred slightly, smirk still in place. “You make a good fight for yourself, but you better stop. I’m not dragging your ass home.”

“You couldn’t drag my ass home if you tried.” Kieran shot back, smirk just as visible as the sarcasm in his tone. Despite his drunken state, his slur was surprisingly invisible. Though, it did take him a moment to think up the words coming out of his mouth, making him sound more drunk than an actual slur would. “Guess we’ll be here all night because I’m not tapping out either.” After all the work he’d put in, there was no way he could give up now. No matter how much his body wanted him to.

It was a risky game they were playing, seeing how drunk the other could get. “I’ll give it to you, though. You got a good tolerance. But, it’s nothing special.” Kieran teases, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. Was he flirting? Could you even call it that? “Let’s give it about fifteen more minutes and see how both of us fair.”

   “Really? Why?” Jaime asked quickly, surprised to hear it - never before had someone said they wished they’d gone into that as a career. Most people who wanted to… just did. Hell, he’d even met doctors who trained as part-time apprentices, just for the hell of it. “Nothing is stopping you. Hell, I’d teach you, even,” Jaime added, but couldn’t help but smirk when Kieran summarized his current career so blandly. “You’d be good at those kawaii tattoos. I’ve had clients bring in some stuff, and I’m like… man, I can’t do such pretty, nice things. Tattooing frills and lace and sparkles - shit, I can’t do it,” He was laughing now, feeling the warmth of alcohol heating his body temperature. 

   Maintaining eye contact, Jaime downed his last shot, only proving his words were a challenge even more. “Do you though? You look to me like a light weight,” Jaime teased, his eyes glinting with mischief - one may even take it as flirting, though it was just his default personality. The charm turned way up whenever alcohol got involved. Needless to say, Vera was forgotten by now, and Jaime leaned in slightly. “Prove it. Order us another round.”

If the opportunity ever arose again, he might consider a career switch. But, he was comfortable. He had a good salary, good people to work around, and an easy schedule that fit his life and something he had fallen into. You can’t easily break something like that. “Kawaii? That’s what you call it?” Kieran asked with a laugh. He had to admit, Jaime had a style all his own. It was interesting, though, and exactly what made Kieran gravitate toward him. 

Jaime watches him intently, and Kieran returns the eye contact. The tension is there and the challenge is accepted. He isn’t going to let someone like Jaime show him up. They were similar in height and stature, but Jaime clearly had more experience. “Are you insulting me, right now?” Kieran asked with a laugh, slightly offended. He’d never been questioned in such a way before. It only made him more interested in proving himself--not that it was a good idea, but Kieran was still down for it. “Fine. First one to tap out loses.” And thus, a messy game began. He ordered the first round of shots, took them fine. Another couple, Kieran was starting to feel the buzz. By the six round of shots, Kieran was sure he was a goner. He couldn’t tell how well Jaime was fairing, but it had to be better than him.

Arlo would probably always feel guilty for getting Keiran into this situation, no matter who told her it wasn’t her fault or how many times she was told. She looked as he placed the blanket over her and she shook her head, pushing it to him. “I have my jacket. You need something.” She said and looked around at the area they were in. She was hoping that someone would come, anybody. She needed to hold on to the hope that they would be rescued and make it out of this because if she started to think otherwise, then she may find herself slipping into a bad headspace. “Please…Just..take the blanket..okay?” She said softly and closed her eyes.

“I’m so sorry..Keiran. This is my fault.” Arlo said, turning to look over to him, water rising further as time went on. It finally stopped at their shoulders. She had stopped trying to open the door or bang the window open once that happened, knowing there would be no use then. “Maybe the backseat leads to the trunk? I don’t know…”

“Fine.” Kieran finally gives in, grabbing the blanket. He wasn’t going to fight with Arlo, knowing it wouldn’t do either of them any good. This wasn’t either of their fault and it was best to keep a level head about the situation. He looks, searches, hoping that his mind would suddenly come up with an idea on how to get out of the car, but nothing ever happens. They sit in silence, shivering and cold. Kieran is sure he’ll end up in the hospital after this, the water creeping up higher and higher.

He doesn’t remember when help arrived, but it was a long while after. He was sure they weren’t going to make it, but miracles do happen. He’s separated from Arlo almost immediately, not even getting the chance to check on her before being driven away in the ambulance. Does he apologize? Should he check on her? He hasn’t even been able to assess his own injuries yet, but all he can think about is Arlo’s safety. Kieran only hopes she made it out as easily and as quickly as he did.

   “Little bit,” Jaime grinned with a shrug, no hostility in his voice as he joked back. At least Kieran seemed to be a good sport about things, but Jaime remembered that from their lengthy tattoo session previously. “You’re not alone. I think everyone suffers the ink addiction, even if they don’t yet realize it,” He chuckled, pleased to see Kieran already getting another round for them. Well, he sure got lucky, didn’t he? Before answering, Jaime knocked back his second shot - proving he was serious about getting drunk. “Professionally? A few years now. But I’ve been doing it for way longer than that. I was about 15, I think, first time?” Jaime gave a nod as he thought back, thoughts hazy already. “Something like that. Got my first apprentice gig when I was 21. Almost four years ago.” Impressed with himself, and the realization he’d been doing tattoos for nearly a decade now, Jaime smiled wide and knocked back the third shot with ease. “Been drinking for about as long, too,” He added with a charming smile, leaning in like it was a secret. “Think you can keep up?” 

“I wish I would’ve gotten into tattooing.” Kieran says randomly, downing another couple shots. He was hoping to reach the point of incoherent as well, seeing as he didn’t drive here in the first place. He could get drunk, uber home, enjoy the rest of his night. It seemed pretty straight-forward and simple. “But nah, I teach a bunch of teenagers all day and then go home to draw cute cartoons until my hands feeling like they’re bleeding.” He wasn’t complaining, he loved his profession. It did have it’s pros and cons, though. “Anyways--” Kieran laughs slightly, knowing that once he opened his mouth, there was no way of stopping what came out of it.

“Keep up?” Kieran asks, slightly offended. “Are you kidding?” Was it a challenge? It sure did feel like it and Kieran wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity for some much needed entertainment. “Trust me, I know how to handle myself.” He was lying through his teeth, but he wasn’t going to let down that front for Jaime. He didn’t know much about the guy, but he seemed like fun. He threw back the last shot before raising an eyebrow, silently asking the question of--more?

  After Markus, Jaime had yet to really find himself in the position of lusting for another man - sure, he’d had sex plenty of times since but those companions were all quite feminine. Truthfully, sexuality was still not something Jaime had a definitive answer on, and lately, he’d been a little busy barely recovering from the car accident and spending every waking second either drunk or well on the way to it. “Hell yeah, that’s what I like to hear. Make sure you come in after a month, get some touch-ups, alright?” Jaime hoped he’d be back in working order by then, ready to get some ink flowing. Even now, his bruised chest and sides ached despite the warmth of the liquor. “Honestly? I’m looking to get drunk. Didn’t plan ahead much outside of that. I was kinda thinking you’re after the same thing?” He gestured to the shots before knocking his back with a pop of his lips, ready for more. 

“Stupid question, right?” Kieran asks, laughing at himself. It was his feeble attempt at making conversation, not sure how to mellow things out after everything people had recently been through. His stay in the hospital was short, but others weren’t as lucky. He orders a few more rounds, just to be safe, and lines them up for himself and Jaime. “I’ll definitely be stopping by again. Can’t seem to keep myself away once I start up again.” The tattoos, he means. He never realized how addicting they were until he got his first, and then another, and then five more after that. “I never got around to asking during my session, but how long have you been tattooing?” Friendly conversation, wanting to know more about Jaime--it was a bit of both, Kieran couldn’t help himself.

  No doctor had told Jaime not to drink; only to be careful with his painkillers and alcohol consumption, so he’d made a decision to choose one over the other, and that choice was an easy, obvious one to make. With as brutal a reminder of his own mortality as the crash had been, throwing Jaime’s headspace for a loop, drinking was the best remedy as far as he was concerned, so at the bar was the best place to find him most nights, even among the wreckage of Wilmington from the hurricane. 

   However, within a night or two of that, Jaime was definitely more broke than he was before, even with Vera’s generosity of getting him a couple of drinks when they first arrived. He was quickly losing his buzz, fighting off a bad mood, sitting at the bar while Vera was off elsewhere. “Oh, hey,” Jaime smiled, turning towards the voice, placing the other man’s face as a former customer he’d had just before the disaster of the hurricane hit. “I’d never say to an offer like that. How’s the tat doing?” 

“Uh, fine--really good, actually.” Kieran had been through his fair share of tattoo healing experiences, he was practically a professional at this point. “I thought I was going to have a hard time finding a new artist, but I guess I got lucky.” He adds, his grin turning into a faint smirk. Should he be buying him drinks? Was this weird? Regardless, Kieran doesn’t listen to his thoughts, throwing caution aside. Having already finished his first beer, he settles on a couple shots, passing one over to--Jaime, the name finally strikes him. He didn’t want to seem like a total asshole, having already forget his name. “So, what brings you out?” Kieran asks curiously. He was a difficult guy to read, Kieran would give him that. But, he couldn’t help but want to learn more, even if that meant prodding a bit. “I was tired of being cooped up in my apartment especially after everything.”

Kieran was a stranger to flirting with men he found attractive, it was quite a regular occurrence for him. But, he just wanted someone to talk to tonight--why not a cute guy? He approaches the man once his friend, a tall female, disappears into the crowd, trying his best not to look like he was seeking him out. He didn’t know what he was trying for, but it had been so long since he found himself in this setting--in this kind of situation. “Uh, hey. Looks like you’ve had a rough week--let me buy you a drink?” Kieran asks, hoping he wasn’t embarrassing himself.

@jamesoncastello​

Arlo had no clue how fast a situation could change until they changed quick. She looked over and shook her head, sighing. She had hoped his phone would work since hers was drowned in water but no such luck and now they were truly stuck. She reached in the back above the seat and grabbed a jacket, holding it out to Kieran. “Here, this is all I have. I don’t think there is anything in here to break a window.” She said as she tried to push the window out to no avail. She continued to bang on the window as hard she could, wincing as her arm started to hurt and she stopped the banging.

The water was rising quickly and she shivered as it came up her body. Arlo looked back over at Kieran, scared about what their fate would be. “Someone will come for us. We just have to wait until then…” She said, trying to sound at least a little bit hopeful, not sure who she was trying to convince more, Kieran or herself. She wrapped her arms back around her chest as she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Kieran didn’t know when or if help was going to come. He’d never been in such a life-threatening situation. He’d been safe, most of his life. Kieran had made it a priority to never put himself in harms way, for situations like this. Helping Arlo had been a harmless decision, but now they were here--and no, he wasn’t upset with Arlow. If anything, he was just as worried for her as he was for himself. When she hands him the blanket, he immediately covers Arlo with it. He didn’t need the cover, but he could tell by how badly Arlo was shivering that she wouldn’t last much longer without some kind of cover to help keep her body temperature regulated.

“It’s for you, Arlo.” Kieran laughs sligtly, despite their situation. “You need to stay warm just as much as I need to.” It was a waiting game now, whether someone would come or not. “We’re going to need to come up with a plan eventually, if no one ever does.”

Arlo knew the storm was going to get worse quick and judging by the pace that water was flooding the car, they wouldn’t have long before the water rose even more. She looked up to the sunroof and shook her head. “That’s not going to work. That has been screwed into place since I’ve had the car because it wouldn’t stay closed and I couldn’t afford to fix it so I had it permanently shut…” She leaned back against the seat, trying to think of anything that she could do to get them out of the situation they were in. She looked over to Kieran. “I’m so sorry that I got you into this. I should have gone by myself. Then you would have been safe.”

The guilt started to creep in almost immediately for getting the other trapped out in the hurricane and she wished she could go back and not drag him out in this weather. She kept trying to push the door open but there was no luck and she could feel the water against her shins, shivering slightly as she leaned down, trying to fish her phone, needing to see if it still worked. She finally found it and pulled it up, frowning as water drained from it and it failed to turn on. She was trying her best to hold the panic back.

The wind howled outside of the car and Arlo could barely see things flying by the car window. She frowned, hoping nothing would hit the window as the flood waters continued to creep into the car. They must have been just outside of Masonboro by now, which of course was one of the flooded areas, which only meant bad news for the two of them. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to give herself comfort.

Kieran didn’t want to give up on forcing the sunroof open, but he did. There was no use. He didn’t realize how they got into this mess, but things were going downhill quickly. He’s never been one to panic quickly, but his heart was racing. He had no idea what to do. Kieran sighed heavily, pulling his phone out of his pocket. No bars, no signal--how could they have screwed themselves over this fast?

“I would say I could call for help, but that doesn’t look likely.” He says, faking amusement as he flashed his phone to her. He was glad he’d worn a sweater, knowing the cold winds would reach settle in eventually. “You don’t have an extra coat in here? Or a blanket?” He asks, wishing he could help. The two look ridiculous, curled up in their seats. “We’re going to have to smash a window or something. We can’t stay in here, Arlo. We’ll get pneumonia or die. I’m sure neither of us want that.”

WHEN: During the hurricane WHERE: the streets of Downtown WHO: @kieranhales​

One of the first thoughts about the hurricane had been the animals who were currently at the clinic and making sure they were safe and that thought led to the animals that were outside in the hurricane themselves and she knew she had to do something. She had contacted Kieran, unsure if he had already left or not. She knew it wasn’t smart to go off on her own in this weather and she knew she needed to leave, now, well, more like when the evacuation had been ordered but there she was. When he had agreed to go check on the animals with her, she was relieved, although a little concerned about why he hadn’t left either. 

They had agreed to meet somewhere in between the two and Arlo waited for him in her car, smiling as he got in. “Glad you got here alright. I didn’t think it was going to be this bad.” She said as she started the car and carefully made their way over to the clinic, running in quickly with him. She looked at all the animals and made sure they were up as high as they could go, knowing there was no way they could get them all out of the clinic. She made sure they all had food and water before she turned towards Kieran. “We gotta get out of here, maybe we can still get out of town.” She said as she eyed the door to spot a dog running past the clinic. She knew that it wasn’t one of the clinic dogs which meant it was either a stray or it belonged to someone. She ran out after it, looking around for it, wondering how many animals there were out in this weather.

“We gotta help him.” Arlo said, immediately changing her mind on trying to leave and instead deciding to try and help as many of the animals that were tapped out here as she could. She waited for Kieran to get into the car before starting it and taking off as carefully as possible in the direction the dog had run. Visibility was low and the water seemed to have risen since they were in the clinic and she slowed down, wondering what to do next when she felt the car sputter to a stop, water rising quickly as it seeped through the car, flooding it as the water was at their ankles. “Shit..” She said quickly as the water continued to rise quickly. She took her phone out only to drop it in the water and she frowned. Of course she would drop her phone, of course. She looked over at Kieran as she tried to open her door but the pressure of the rising water kept the door shut tightly. “What do we do now?” She asked, a hint of panic in her voice as she realized they were trapped and the water was very cold and rising quickly. 

Kieran didn’t do well with storms. He hated the rain, the wind, the impending bad mood that came along with it. Everyone was either panicking or fleeing the city, he had done neither though, so far. The call from Arlo had relieved him, knowing he wasn’t the only one still in Wilmington. He was procrastinating, to afraid to leave his belongings behind. He didn’t want to lose any of it, especially since there was no insurance coverage. If it was lost in the storm, it was lost forever. He eagerly agrees to meet up, driving her way and arriving there in about half an hour--it would have been quicker but the weather was a cause for concern. The rain hadn’t caused serious flooding yet, but it was getting worse by the minute.

He knew how much Arlo loved animals, so it didn’t surprise him when she asked for his help. The little things were so helpless and had nowhere to go, Arlo was hoping to find them a safe place to ride out the storm. She always had a good heart. When he arrived, she’d managed to give them a safe place to take shelter with the help of Kieran. They made sure to leave ample amounts of food and water for the critters before going on their way, in hopes of maybe being able to rescue a few more animals.

But within a few minutes, the weather got tremendously worse. What was just a slight shower turned into a downpour, making visibility low. When they drive into the deep pool of water, they don’t even realize until the engine cuts out. The water finds it way in quickly. “Shit.” He curses, curling his legs up toward his chest. They had no way to escape, the pressure of the water keeping their doors securely closed. “Uh, the sunroof, maybe?” Kieran suggests in a panic. “We’ll have to pry it open with our fingers, though.” It seemed like the safest idea. The water wasn’t above the car, but it was enough to find it’s way inside. He didn’t want to be stuck inside any longer.

The man who approaches the desk is nothing like he expects, short in stature like himself and an eclectic style to match his own. He had good taste, Kieran couldn’t deny that. “Uh, hey--I’m Kieran. We talked over the phone last week.” He didn’t understand why he sounded so awkward, maybe it was the fact that he hated first greetings--or the fact that this guy was insanely attractive.

@jamesoncastello​

Jasper let out a laugh as the other spoke to him. “He thinks everything anyone says is funny. He’s in that stage. He makes me feel like I could be a stand up comedian,” she let out a laugh. She returned the hug, feeling the warm embrace that hadn’t felt in years. “It’s been so long. I’m so sorry I kind of just dropped off the face of the planet. There was just so much going on with my family and we kind of just abruptly left,” she attempted to explain herself. “How have you been though? Are you working? Did you ever leave Wilmington or did you just end up sticking it out here?”

“Oh wow. What are you making?” she glanced over at the other’s papers. “I promised Jasper some sorbet after we went to the park. You’re more than welcome to join us if you like.” Back in Colorado, the thought of bringing Jasper out in public with another male terrified her. It was the questions that she would get from people in town, asking her if that was the child’s father. It was a new beginning here and she enjoyed that about Wilmington.

“Never left.” Kieran replies. He had been in Wilmington his entire left, saw friends come and go, but he stayed behind. He loved Wilmington, it was the only place that really felt like home. Sure, he had visited other places before, but he’d never uproot himself and move--he couldn’t even imagine it. “I’m working at the high school now, as an art teacher. Surprising, I know.” He’d always been the art kid--drawing, painting, messing with anything he could get his hands on and making into his own. It was what made Kieran feel himself. “I do some illustrating on the side, but not a whole lot.”

“It’s just a few designs for my client.” Kieran explains, pointing toward the book. “Nothing solid yet, but I’ll get there.” Sometimes it took a while for an idea to strike but when it did, he was unstoppable. “Uh sure, I can join. It’d be nice to catch up, anyways.” 

To say that Carmen had not been having a great time that whole week would’ve been an understatement. It seemed that whenever something good happened to her, something equally terrible had to come out as well and remind her that she truly couldn’t have it all in life. Not that that wasn’t already a constant reminder. Her nerves were a lot higher that particular morning than they ever were and she was a far cry from her normal smiling self. 

Coffee was surely going to help fix her mood and set a more pleasant tone for the rest of her day, without giving a second thought, she reached out for the cup which had her name sprawled on it and stood besides his. “Shit.” The word left her mouth as if on instinct when both of the cups went crashing down onto the floor, the brown liquid inside splattering onto her brand new pair of sneakers. For a moment, Carmen thinks she could almost cry but his words bring her back. It isn’t his fault and she definitely doesn’t want him to feel like it is. 

“It’s okay, don’t — uh, you don’t have to call yourself an idiot.” The brunette told him, picking up a couple of napkins and helping him to clean up the remains of the coffee off the floor. “You don’t have to buy me anything, you’re probably already late…” She gestured to his outfit and the items he carried with him which were a clear symbol that he had some sort of job that required him to be on time. An important one.  

“It’s a habit, I guess.” Kieran jokes. He was constantly self-deprecating and making fun of himself, so it wasn’t meant to be a negative shot at himself. “I really don’t mind, though. I have to buy myself another, so I should replace yours too.” Kieran says, gesturing to the spilled drinks on the ground. He watched her as she examine his attire--sure, he was quite dressed up and looking more professional than his daily attire. “I got about an hour until I need to be act work, actually. I like to leave early. It gives me time to not feel so rushed.” He explains.

“God, I’m sorry about your sneakers.” Kieran apologizes, “That like, physically hurts my heart because I know those have to be new.” He laughs somberly, holding a hand to his chest. He didn’t ruin just one person’s morning, but two.

    “Oh… okay,” Gray nodded, feeling unsure how to react in that situation. It wasn’t often he was openly flirted with or hit on, especially when he was running on 24-hours of being awake, and since he was almost always single, this was the first time he’d ever really needed to swerve someone. It felt.. strange. Grayson worried he was coming across as rude, when really, it was that persistent social anxiety that seemed to rule him, even now. When Kieran extended his hand, Gray slowly moved to shake it, a tiny smile now on his face. “Uh, I’m Gray. So you- you come here often, then? I don’t. I mean, usually.” 

“I do, actually. Every weekday, at least.” He explains. Gray didn’t seem like too much of a regular, but Kieran couldn’t really know that either. “Uh, sorry I made things weird.” Kieran laughs, knowing all too well. He didn’t have a good filter when it came to flirting, he said what he felt rather than keeping it to himself. It had never failed him, until now.  He didn’t want to say it was humbling, but it was nice that someone didn’t take his approach negatively and instead nicely turned him down. “I should really let you get out of here instead of bothering you with some boring conversation.” They were two strangers, no sense in starting up a friendship in the middle of a coffee shop. “If we ever run into each other again, let’s hope I don’t ruin your morning like I just did.” He jokes, flashing a smile at the taller male.

“Are you sure?” Abby glanced back at the counter. She had, on more than one occasion, completely slammed into people while trying to back out of the tight cafe crowd, her drink or food spilling everywhere. The baristas were always friendly, offering to help clean up and replace whatever had been damaged. Still, if he wanted to buy himself another drink Abby was not about to stop him. “No, really, it’s fine. I mean, it’s only hot chocolate. At least the pastry wasn’t sacrificed.” She tucked the paper bag close to her. Croissants were very important to her morning routine. Sometimes she would get tea, sometimes hot chocolate, but the croissant was always part of the deal. If they didn’t have any, she would panic and order something that she would just throw away. “That’s very kind of you, thank you.”

She stepped in line next to him, peering up at the menu. She already knew what she wanted, and she was sure that anyone who had watched them collide would know that she was replacing her drink. Abby didn’t have time to think about that. Her anxiety would eventually swallow her whole if she tried. “Abby. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve saved my morning, considering you’re preventing me from spending extra money I really don’t need to spend.”

“If I don’t have my morning breakfast and drink, the rest of the day is ruined.” Kieran admits with a chuckle. It was like a ritual, he’d never missed a morning meal. He was sure if he did, then all hell would freeze over. Bespoke was a daily stop, he was a regular--so making a fool of himself so early in the morning, not ideal. “It’s fine, the least I can do is replace what I destroyed.” He crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for the drinks to finish. Kieran knows he won’t be late, but a slight misstep in his morning has him anxious. He attempts to push the thought aside, hoping the girl was as friendly as he was.

“Their drinks are pretty reasonable, anyways.” He shrugs slightly, a slight grin of his face. “I have to get my morning coffee, otherwise dealing with the kids I teach is nearly impossible.” Dealing with teenager everyday has only strengthened his belief in never wanting kids of his own, he didn’t think he had the mental capacity for it.