๐ป๐๐๐ ๐' ๐ป๐๐ค๐
Note - heyy guys this is my FIRST ACTUAL one shot and uhhh I hope you can't tell that idk what I'm doing :p anyways, make sure to request some MH/EMH/Creepypasta content!!
๐๐๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ - ๐๐ช๐ฎ ๐๐ณ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต/๐๐ข๐ด๐ฌ๐บ ๐น ๐๐ฆ๐ฎ!๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ
๐๐๐ ๐ฌ - ๐๐ญ๐ถ๐ง๐ง (?), ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ง ๐ด๐ฆ๐น๐ถ๐ข๐ญ ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ด๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ, ๐ง๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ช๐ฆ๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด, ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฌ ๐ฑ๐ข๐ณ๐ต๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด
๐๐๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ - ๐๐ฆ๐น๐ถ๐ข๐ญ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ข๐ญ ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ด๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ, ๐๐ธ๐ง๐ถ๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ข๐ญ๐ฐ๐จ๐ถ๐ฆ, ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฌ ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ท๐บ ๐๐ช๐ฎ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ
๐๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐ฒ - ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฎ๐ช๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐๐ช๐ฎ ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐จ๐ณ๐ถ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ...๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ช๐ต'๐ด ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ ๐๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ง๐ช๐น.
!๐ต๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
!, !๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐!
The mission was far; farther than usual. The rusty navy blue truck could only take so much, just like your rumbling stomach. The groans of the engine luckily covered your hungry tummy, but it couldn't cover the hungry complaints that spewed from your mouth every so often.
Tim was hesitant, his eyes stiffly focused on the road ahead, but eventually his own hunger for cheap diner food made him cave in; that, and you claiming you would pay for both meals.
You both opened the creaky doors of the truck and stepped out, the pebbles of the shitty parking lot crunching under your steps. It was sad outside, gloomy and melancholic with grey clouds filling the dull blue sky as the sun made no effort to light up the earth below. The weather was so dim it almost made your forget it was 10:40 in the morning.
You were both silent as you walked across the parking lot. He opened the door and walked in before you, a little bell at the top of the doorway ringing quietly with your arrival. Tims lips pursed at the noise.
The booth you sat at next to the window was cushiony and the leather would creak under your weight with every turn. The waitress, a middle aged woman with sagging eyes, greeted you happily and handed you two laminated and stained menus before tilting her head in question.
"Any drinks for you two?" The corners of her lips were upturned, almost wildly, like she was playing this 'customer service' act a little too much.
"Coffee." Tim muttered gruffly, his eyes already skimming across the menu. She looked to you next.
"I'll also have a coffee." She nodded curtly and scrambled away back into the kitchen where clatters of trays and voices were heard
Your eyes landed on the menu once she left. It was...a little underwhelming, but what could you expect? It was a practically run-down, all-american diner that only had a few booths full with tired mom's or old couples. You sighed and shut your menu, sliding it to the edge of the counter.
"What are you getting? I'll have whatever you get."
"Waffles." His menu was already shut and on top of yours as he looked at you. A rather charming decision, you thought; this big and tough proxy, munching on sickeningly sweet waffles.
"I prefer French toast, but waffles work for me." You responded with a short, thin lipped smile. The comment about your sweet breakfast preference was an attempt at conversation, but knowing your awkwardness and Tim's silent nature, it didn't really do much. His eyebrow did twitch a little at your comment, whatever that meant.
You listened to the classic rock songs that hummed from the retro jukebox for a bit until the waitress came back with two worn-out ivory mugs filled almost to the brim with cheap coffee. She set them down and pulled out her little notepad and pen, questioning Tim first.
"Now what would you like?" She grinned down at him, pearly and crooked whites shining through at him as he stared blankly.
"French toast. For both of us." He blinked once, briefly glancing at you as she scribbled it down on her paper. He gave a quick, 'thats all' and she took her leave with the two menus under her arm.
You raised a brow at him, pouring a few packets of sugar into your dark coffee.
"No waffles?" You spoke while your fingers crumpled the little paper wrappers into balls.
"You said you preferred French toast." He responded into his mug. He took a long sip, clearly holding back a grimace at the taste.
"I figured that comment meant you wanted that instead." Liar. The glance out the window he while he spoke gave it away. Unbeknownst to you, he ordered that instead just to please you. Of course, he would never admit that, but deep down he knew it.
You looked at him, a glint of amusement adorning your expression. You took a sip, eyes on him the whole time.
"Well, thank you." You held back a tiny smile.
"Mhm." He hummed as he took another sip, his eyes also following you.
A little bit went by. Maybe ten minutes of silently tapping your index finger in the side of your mug as you both waited. Tim was less antsy than you, all stiff as his eyes were focused out the window at the tiny parking lot. You took this as an opportunity to...observe. He almost always had that stupid mask on, that psychological cover up that he beared like a shield. But obviously he wasn't going to wear it in public.
His skin was smooth looking, shockingly so. His lips were tensed in a purse, almost like he was always thinking just a little too hard. His hair was a little messy, but his side burns were well groomed and fitting. He looked like the perfect amount of gruff and pretty, if that was the right word to use.
You were so caught up in your stares that you didn't even notice his continuous suspicious glances.
"What?" He slightly raised a tired brow at you. "Your staring like there's a problem."
You shook your head a little, awkwardly sipping your coffee in a sad attempt at downplaying your obvious gawking.
"No, nothing." You looked down at the swirling umber liquid with a nonchalant shrug. He gave you a curious look, shaking his head a tad.
As if on cue, the zany waitress came over with two stacks of warm French toast. She'd get a good tip for saving you like that, you thought.
She encouraged you to stay awhile and enjoy, and Tim eyed the food for a moment. Two thick and buttery slices of cinnamon bread, doused in syrup and berries, with three dollops of whipped cream spread throughout. Soon enough, he unwrapped his fork from his napkin and dug in, as did you.
He swallowed his first bite, chewing harshly like his teeth were iron.
"Decent. Not too bad." Though he seemed casual about the sweet food, his actions of a starved man said otherwise.
You ate too, agreeing with him at the taste of them. You are slower than him, silently observing him chow down. Your eyes landed on his plate; identical to yours, but he had more strawberries.
"You have more strawberries, I have more blueberries." You mused quietly, talking more to yourself than him. He paused and looked up at you, then your plate.
"Yeah. So?" He quirked a brow as he chewed another bite, syrup sticking to his bottom lip.
"Just an observation." You shrugged once. His tongue darted out to sweep the maple mixture off his mouth. He leaned back and looked at you with a sigh.
"You'd prefer mine, huh?" "Yeah." So easy to catch you, he thought smugly.
He waited for you to set your fork down on the plate before moving into action. He gripped the edge of your plate as well as his and slide them around.
"Now you have more strawberries, and I have more blueberries." A tiny, barely noticeable smirk creeped up onto his lips. You looked at him with pursed lips and eyes a fraction wider than usual. You hadn't actually expected him to swap.
He felt smug, not because of his sudden switch, no, but it was the fact that you had his fork and he had yours. It was small, such a simple little thing that he got some sort of perverted pleasure from.
You lifted the fork, his fork, and plucked a plump half of a strawberry with it before sliding it into your mouth, your eyes on him the whole time.
It's not like you could taste him, but the thought of having his spit in your mouth made a little rush burst through your chest.
He did the same, lifting his fork and popping a blueberry in, letting the fork linger past his lips for just a little too long as you locked eyes.
Right before you allowed a small smirk to poke through at Tim, the waitress came over with the bill, ruining the tense moment completely. That tip would be going down now, you thought.
Five minutes flew by, both of your minds lingering on the brief moment shared as you finished your mid-morning meal. He gave you a smug look, reminding you of your previous deal. You payed, he ate. Right.
You grimaced and lazily snatched the bill. $23.45.
You reached into your bag, digging in to retrieve you old leather wallet. You flipped the wallet open only to find $23.45 that you didn't have. You only had a few tickets from an old arcade you forgot to throw away and a gas station gift card with only $5 on it.
You gulped silently, sucking in an awkward breath as you shut your wallet and tossed it back into your bag.
A subtle, yet shockingly real, smirk appeared on his lips.
Uhhh hey guys, I did a lil too much for my first one shot ever but I really hope you liked it (: reblog, like, and comment if you liked it, and if you REALLY liked it, follow and request for more (;
