𖦹 your first meeting with choso, the tattooist next door. ⋮ fluff.
the first time Choso came into your bakery, you thought he was lost.
because nobody ever walked into your bakery looking like that.
messy hair, dark bags under his eyes like he'd never slept a day in his life, and his black hoodie zipped all the way to his chin. oh, and he was looking around like lost child.
he stood in front of the pastry display silently for so long.
"Hi, what can i get you?"
his gaze lifted toward you slowly.
"Can i get black coffee?" he asked quietly.
you nodded. "Yeah, sure," your hand reached for a cup. "Anything else?"
he stared at the pastry display again, brows slightly furrowed.
"Take your time," you said amusingly. "The pastries aren't going anywhere."
his eyes flicked toward you before landing back on the display. then he pointed.
you followed his finger and nearly scoffed.
a simple, plain croissant.
all that damn waiting just for him to choose a plain croissant.
you stare at him for a second before grabbing the tongs. "You know we sell other things, right?"
"Yet you picked a plain croissant."
"I love croissant, and it looks good."
you glanced down at the croissant. fair enough.
you slid the croissant into a paper bag before handing it over with his coffee. you saw his tattoos up close.
you couldn't help but be curious.
"You work nearby?" you asked casually.
"Really?" your brows lifted. "... the laundromat?"
he blinked. "... the tattoo shop."
you looked at him again, taking in his whole appearance. well, that made a lot more sense.
"Huh," you mumbled. "Thought you were just into black clothing."
you laughed softly under your breath while handing him the paper bag.
he took it carefully, fingers brushing the edge of yours barely a second before pulling away.
Choso adjusted the paper bag under his arm while balancing the coffee in his other hand, the rings on his fingers clinking softly.
you noticed the tattoos on his hands looked even more detailed. ink curling over his knuckles and disappearing beneath the sleeves of his hoodie.
"That tattoo shop next door is yours, or do you just work there?" you asked.
he glanced toward you, sipping his black coffee. "It's mine."
"That's actually cool," you admitted while reaching over to fix one of the pastry labels. "I always walk past your shop."
Choso looked faintly amused at that. "Well, it's pretty hard to miss."
"True," you shrugged. "The giant neon sign kind of catches people's attention."
he hummed quietly, taking another sip of his coffee before glancing toward the front windows.
the street was slowly starting to wake up. a few cars passed by, shops flickering their lights one by one while people hurried off to work.
Choso shifted the paper bag beneath his arm before checking the time on his watch.
you noticed his shoulders sank a little.
"Let me guess," you started. "You opening soon?"
"In ten minutes, yeah," he mumbled.
"Whoa," you looked at him properly again. "And you're already this tired?"
he blinked slowly before rubbing a hand over his face.
the corner of his mouth twitched faintly. was it a smile? you weren't sure..
for a second, neither of you said anything. just the soft hum of the coffee machine and the sound of cars passing outside.
suddenly, the bell above the door jingled as a customer stepped inside.
instinctively, you straighten up.
Choso shifted aside, making space near the counter while you greeted the customer.
you eyes flickered back toward him briefly as you grabbed a fresh tray behind the counter.
he adjusted his grip on his coffee and the paper bag, then nodded once toward you.
"I should get going," he said.
"Right, tattoo artist duties."
he hummed softly, already moving toward the door.
then he paused, hand resting against the handle.
"The coffee's good, by the way," he said without looking back. "I'll give you a review of your croissant tomorrow."
before you could respond, he disappeared toward the shop next door.
what a weird guy, really.
but you didn't realize you were smiling at the door like an idiot, completely forgetting that there was still a customer.
"Is that your boyfriend?"
the question hit you so suddenly you nearly dropped the tongs in your hand.
"What? No," you said quickly. "I don't even know his name."
the customer raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
you grabbed the pastries a little too aggressively, pretending to focus on the customer's order instead of the warmth creeping onto your face.
the customer only smiled while sliding their money across the counter.
"You should ask for his name tomorrow."
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