#d*

it's 11pm and lucerys fiddles with the fucked up coffee maker before him. it sits there, producing an actual good cup of coffee every hour or so. he called in numerous times to get the machine fixed but to no avail, he took it upon himself to fix it. maybe he could find a part time solution. 

it was a cold and frustrating night, from angry customers to coffee spilling over the counter. lucerys has had enough but his shift wasn’t remotely close to over. the door swings open as he shakes his head and mutters curses. 

but he doesn’t move an inch until he hears the loud footsteps. the much taller man made his presence known. lucerys notices him inspecting the shelves but until he’s called, he’s not needed, so he continues checking over a few things. 

“have you heard about the recent string of murders?” the man asks.

the energy suddenly shifts. lucerys feels cold but he looks at him. 

now he’s nervous. 

“yeah, it’s been on the news.” he steadies his breath and keeps himself calm. 

he hates speaking about death. it always takes the ones he loves.