Notes: sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I did not double check this đ€ also this is very much leaning towards Scaramoucheâs personality over Wanderers. I very much wrote him like a brat here so it isnât 100% in character.
Akademiya Wanderer who leaves his little house at the exact same time every morning to go to the academy. Only for the barista worker to ALWAYS come out of the local coffee shop at the exact same time, without fail, to put out a sign.
And every morning, she gives him that same, annoyingly sweet smile.
His walk to the academy is peaceful and quiet, except for that one moment. Sheâs a nuisance. A stain on his morning. Why does she have to look at him like that? And heaven forbid she decides to wave too and he instinctively hunches his shoulders to hide the way his ears are turning a soft red color. What a bothersome woman.
Well one morning, heâs late.
Itâs an unusual thing for him to be, so he is already irritable. But at least he wonât have to see her give him that same, grossly familiar smile.
He steps out the front door, making his way down the stone pathway towards the sidewalk. And out of the corner of his eye, the coffee shop door opens. There she is, carrying the annoyingly decorated sign that pointed towards the shop.
The Wanderer is unable to hide the pure shock and indignation on his face. How could this be? It wasnât even six oâclock. He was late by six minutes? What are the odds that she still comes out at the same time as him?
He keeps walking, shoulders hunched as he stares forward. But he really canât help himself and as he turns his gaze, he meets her eyes. Her lips softly curve upwards in that same, familiar smile that sets his head (and heart) ablaze.
He should have just kept walking. He was already late to his first class. And yet, he stopâs, eyebrows furrowed and fists clenched.
âWhat the hell was that?â He snapped, staring through narrowed eyes at the barista worker.
âWhat?â A look of pure confusion and bewilderment crosses her face just as she goes to step back inside the shop.
âThat!â He motioned at the sign and at her, letting out a frustrated huff. âAre you watching me or something? Itâs six minutes past the time you usually your sign out- Do you think this is some type of joke?â
What makes him even more ticked off is the way the barista just stares at him like his hair has set on fire. His cheeks are burning and he just knows they are probably flushed an annoying red.
âWell? Whatâs your excuse for this- this strange behavior?â He snapped, watching as her face contorted from one of shock to one of embarrassment.
âIâm sorry, I wasnât trying to- I just noticed you had come out and realized Iâd like time get away from me. Iâm so used to just using your routine as a clock, since you always come out at six.â
The Wanderer stared back at her, his mind attempting to poke holes or be angry at her explanation. But he couldnât. Which only made him even more furious and embarrassed. His ears felt hot and he hunched his shoulders up, hands flying to the rim of his hat and pulling it further down on his head as if he could hide himself.
He wanted to speak, to reply with some kind of snapping insult or cruel remark towards her lack of awareness. But he couldnât, he could only stand there, practically sputtering.
âWell- donât let it happen again.â He snapped suddenly, turning his face away, a puff of air leaving his down turned lips as he averted his gaze. âIâm not your alarm clock.â
The barista worker stared at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as she observed his haughty display. Then suddenly, her face relaxed and she let out a laugh. Her lips curved upwards into that familiar smile, the one that never failed to make his heart jump in his chest.
He froze, hands practically shaking. Why was she laughing? Was she laughing at him? What was so funny?
âYouâre laughing?! What- why are you laughing?â He squawked, his foot raising off the sidewalk before stomping back down against the concrete. âDo I have something on my face? Whatâs so funny?â
The baristaâs eyes closed for a moment as she laughed, her smile slowly softening into something almost fond looking. âIâm sorry-.â She breathed, eyes opening up to once again meet his.
âYouâre just so expressive.â
Expressive? Expressive? Expressive!?