harlem

Always comforting to assume there is a secret behind what torments you.

“That one is going to be… $10,75, please.” Victoria grinned, while making sure the book cover was perfect.

“oh, alright,” he said, pulling out a the bills from his wallet and saying his share of thanks. “i was looking for this in the library -- thank god, you have anne carson’s works here.”

“I don’t know what was in that drink, but I could definitely use another. I seriously can’t stop dancing.”

“oh, god, you’re not feeling nauseaus or dizzy, are you? do you -- do you think someone might have, uhm, put something in your drink?”

“did you just compliment me?” nate couldn’t help but chuckle, still surprised at how nice of a guy kyle actually was. it was like looking at a puppy that needed some attention but was too afraid to ask for it. “i will only wear that at the hospital so… i’d prefer to be something else for halloween for once. oh those videos are awesome. i always feel bad for the kids but it’s way too funny when they say they took all their candy.” looking through the glass, he tried to figure out what flavours he wanted to try. nate was more the type to always try something different every time he came here so that one day, he’s tried them all. “just try something different. take a little risk. i’m sure everything here is pretty great. i’m more into the fruity flavours and i can tell you, they’ve never disappointed me.” he could tell that kyle was having a hard time with choosing something which made him shake his head. there was just something odd about him but that just made him unique. “oh come on, just try it. mango can’t be that bad. unless you’re allergic. if you want to try something else just say it, i’m sure they won’t mind since they haven’t started scooping yet.” looking back at the flavours, nate decided on lemon, melon and cocunet. A weird combination but he didn’t care.

kyle stood watch towering over gleeful little children with pastel sugar-coated smiles; the clerk did not even ask him what cone he wanted, but he kept it all still and steady over passing humour. “i’m pretty sure i compliment the jacket and not you.” he had already given his share of niceties with his friend before - and he would surely give more, but he felt it in him appropriate do so still, continuing with a question of how nate would feel if his own little girl - kira, the light he was yet to meet - was the one being taken candy from. over the counter, he reached for his cone with dubious anticipation, for true enough, there was chocolate, vanilla, and mango on the very top scoop. as he was just about to taste his ice cream, he saw the clerk give nate his own cone and grimaced. “that is the weirdest and most colorful scoops of ice cream i had ever seen.” his chuckle light and amused.  he said his thanks to the clerck and gave out crisp bills from his jacket pocket; and when he did try the flavor his eyes widened - haywire of bright, bright summer. he commented how good as they made their way out of the ice cream parlour. “so, arcade, man?”

Lily raised an eyebrow at his slight stuttering and blushing before a large grin formed on her lips, “ahh the olden days of Batman and his spandex.. but no, it was the Joker. Also the word meant mistake during the silver ages, not what you’re blushing about.”

“oh, oh! it’s not!” quick with the furrow and the smile, kyle huffed and let his shoulders drop in mid-chuckle. “i guess my mind’s not very nsfw-friendly. -- but, wow, i didn’t know they had that kind of slang. what year was that?”

“Whoever said ranch dressing doesn’t tastes good on everything is a lying liar who lies.”

“ranch dressing is beyond everything. it’s my ultimate guilty pleasure -- and try to stay away from it because it always enables me to break my diet.”

“I did not just fall. Nope. You didn’t see a thing.” She let out a sigh, starting to get up from the ground.

“but - oh god -” his arms reaching vines yet nimble still, heart large with school of thought of kindness so dampened it had became normal. “are you sure you’re not hurt? -- jeez, stupid question. please, let me help you.”

“It’s been two years! two! and I STILL can’t get pass saying the sentence ‘I’m worried about the boner he’s readying for you’ without laughing…. I swear I’m a professional voice actor”

his chuckles be haggard with his steady blooming blush, flush on the cheeks and down to his chest -- warm, warm, secondhand embarrassment. of course he had read about the summarily of human bodily functions ( seen it quite often enough to not be startled every morning );  yet to be put into words -- “guess,uhm, lycra isn’t the best material for costumes. i mean -- it’s batman who’s having the, uhm, thing, right? ”  this was his evolving humour under the veneer of years recluse. “

“Milk tea? Nah. Hot chocolate is a good drink or like an ice cold coke.” Luka shrugged thinking if he liked other drinks. Water was alright and chocolate milk was good, maybe a coffee that tasted more like ice cream than coffee. He was a real baby when it came to eating or drinking things he wasn’t used to. Luka tried to listen harder but eventually he finally heard the music and nodded. Raising an eyebrow he listened to the other. “You write? That’s awesome.” He smiled but thought a moment. “I dunno. Depends what kind of story you’re gonna write.” 

“oh god, i can’t even remember the last time i had soda.” untrue -- it was senior year high school and he had more rolls on his arms and belly than slices of pullman bread; burning his throat down raw with cheetos and mango yogurt. “does it still go best with cheeseburgers?” it was light and warm in his seat and nostalgia hit him with the old storylines he had yet to find words to. “well, there’s this one story about a man who can hear everyone’s thoughts. i don’t know what else to do about  it, but he becomes king and wins the lottery and passes all his exams. -- must be lonely up in his head when he can’t hear himself, don’t you think?

“Don’t strain yourself, slick.” There was a hint of amusement in her tone, he was a very entertaining human being. She appreciated his company, and that meant a lot coming from someone like her. Emilia’s fingers drummed rhythmically to the sounds of Frank Sinatra at his finest, bobbing her head slightly to the beat and humming along softly to the melody. Her father would certainly be proud of her at that moment. Her mother? Not so much. She loved Nancy Sinatra, if anything. “I’m not holding back, per se. I’m just… Not being so blunt? I’m trying to be sure you’re just as comfortable as I am. Don’t want to scare you off now, do I?” It was fun to tease him. He had some kind of innocence about him, one she lost long before she even graduated high school. “We’ll work on your nervousness and this jittery behavior of yours, but for now you’re perfectly fine. Just relax down a bit, will ya?”

he touched leather, he touched wood; his back warm from the seat and the heat on his face --hospitality over two cubes of sugar and sinatra he wondered, then, if his palms were too, and that if he tried to hide his cheeks and smile, they would all still be pink. “i won’t -- i won’t be scared off. my friends -- “ ryan, jamil, lawrence and cruz “ -- they’re like wells of great profanities. i think they uhh, they invent new once every year and inaugurate it even.” he had to learn how to stop folding himself small someday, but maybe for today, offering waffles for late breakfast would be enough -- relax, relax, tea leaves steeped in metal tea pots. “so, uhm, chocolate or strawberry? for your waffles i mean?” -- ah, now how was he to call on the busy waitress? shit.

“It tastes fucking delicious. I have no idea what it’s supposed to taste like, but it’s fantastic,” Rory responded, suddenly making herself wish she hadn’t thrown her bottle of Glacier Freeze away earlier when the douchebag had made her mad. “Water flavor? Are you–hang on, was that a joke? I’m so confused right now.”

“oh, oh -- um!” his hand was behind his necks, scratch light hair with his head hanging low. “i guess it is? i mean, a joke, but uhh -- sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to confuse you.” his lips, when not chapped, were bruised from too much biting -- words and apologize, hide and seek. “i guess i’ll try it then. can’t be that bad if you, uh, if you recommend it. but really, i prefer water. i don’t think there’s anything i drink other than water, tea, wine, and gatorade. -- coffee on occasions.” his fingers found the hem of his shirt, and it was only a matter of time before the threads start to shred. “so, uhm, you go on runs?”

Even with his surrounding threatening to distance him from the developing storyline before him she managed to ignore the distractions, but it was quickly growing dull. All that was left was begging and Alice constantly shutting Ralph down like the anti energizer bunny she was. It was almost pitiful to watch at this point. Kyle was the one to save the day with his trivial question about Alice’s salad. At first, a grin infectiously spread across his face, then his lips parted to make way for the hearty laugh that was preparing to be released. “I think it was a Caesar, but I really don’t know. Hey, bro…” He waved down the guy that just got his heart consistently smash for over half an hour. “What kind of salad did you girlfr– Excuse me… Ex-girlfriend order?”

blood had never rushed so fast into his cheeks and drowned the sound in his ears -- even when he was running, even when he was falling, even when he was -- oh god, oh god, oh god! “no, hey! hey! don’t!” he tried to reach for the man’s shirt, but the hem slipped through his fingers in cold coarse cotton. “dude!” he panted, he ached, he stood and walked. ralph was pale and pink with tears streaming down his face.  “he-hey, man,” he said, pulling up his pant legs to crouch next to him. “are you okay? don’t mind my, uhh, my friend over there. you, uhh -- “ ralph had his fists into his sweater, digging deep and raw.  love that had ended was always beautiful. “oh, no!” he turned back to jude and mouthed. “help me.” on a plastic plate, the salad had too many croutons.

benson was startled by the large (but certainly not imposing) figure that stood in his store. the bruv was fucking built. benson won’t lie, he got more than a bit turned on. he tugs on his collar a couple times, attempting to cool himself down. if this man was benson’s soulmate, he would not be apposed to the prospect. okay, benson, he thought, be professional. you’ve experienced hot guys before, deal with it like an adult. but lord, was this man attractive.

his polite smiles did not stagger nor did his words, but his feet did. there were social queues he had learned for moments like this, wrote them in little stationary notebooks when he was young, but he never really did know when to pick up anything and turn it to something that was more than what it really was. he said his thanks, his head hanging low and smile all courteous and small. the receiving room was light, the mirrors clear and telling him to stop blushing, stop blushing.  his palms were damp with sweat, but when was it ever not?