As Kazic sits in the stairwell leading to his apartment in the garage, the workplace is finally peaceful, and he has a visitor.
"Busy day?" At the bottom of the stairwell was Sophie, her hands folded behind her back. Flower bouquets, cards, boxes of chocolates, and the like, she expected Kazic to be swarmed with them days leading up to and on the day of St. Valentine.
The holiday was outside her understanding, unless there were orders or her sisters reminding her of it; Martha mused on what her boyfriend would gift her, and Lettie, similarly to Kazic (and even Martha before dating), was inundated by gifts.
Did Sophie end up empty-handed on the holiday? Well, no. Embarrassingly, there were several proposals at work, in her mailbox, or more informal meeting points, but nothing that compared to the "American sweetheart" fresh out of Arkham. Goodness, he definitely obtained more than the "American nightmare" who should be wisely spending his time with his girlfriend.
Up the stairs she goes. She runs her hands over her skirt, tucking it behind her, and takes a cramped seat beside Kazic. At the forefront of the mind, it was simple. Uncolorful and unrevealing thoughts, a disposition that she carries around him, a natural irritation for someone who desperately wanted to hear them. All except for one repeated phrase: Don't always think early."
Both hands were resting on her lap, looking straightforward into the garage. Don't always think early.
Her voice drags as she begins, "Are you...?" Her gaze meets his. Don't always think early.
"Doing anything later tonight?" She raises her hand, clearing her throat. However, she covers her hand with her hand, feeling the sweat building on the back of her neck.
Valentines day, a holiday you honestly found to be more tiring and exhausting than any other holiday on the calendar year. A day you always called "I'm not interested in you" day, given how often you found yourself catching the eyes of so many people. The same seemed to ring true even being a mechanic. You were hoping it would be different compared to how bothersome it would be when you were a barista. It was part of your job to be charming, here you could just be friendly. Yet you seemed to always be cursed to be swarmed by men, women and those in between, no matter where you worked.
Even today, you got a lot of offers and even a few confessions wrapped up in chocolates. It only reinforced your nickname for today. How often you had to go through this song and dance made you feel mechanic, practiced and ingenuine even when you were being honest. The motions played the same, just as you did for years in Yorkshire, Arkham, and now Midgard. A sympathetic smile would be over your lips, a timid chuckle, your hand going to scratch at the back of your neck. You'd say you were flattered and of course, you would politely decline. Most of the people you had to deny only knew you through a few minute exchange every few days, no deep conversations, not even certain if either of could even be friends, and yet they wanted to jump right into romance, with you of all people. You just weren't interested in any of that. It might have been tiring seeing some of them tear up when you rejected them. It wasn't your fault you couldn't think of people you considered strangers any other way than maybe acquaintances. Besides, you only had eyes for someone else anyway.
And so the day continued forward, yourself receiving a few handful of gifts you didn't decline or plan to toss out outright after your shift. Toni had bought you sweets and cinnamon swirl cookies, Rev made you a surprisingly sweet card your that read "happy valentines you bitch. Love you- Rev" and lastly, you got a home made can of chocolate from Unnur. Of course, you felt bad enough for not getting them anything, but they weren't expecting much other than a smile and a thank you. You'd do your part to pay them back.
Time passed, leading to after your shift. Yourself catching your breath after such an energy wasting shift. You weren't able to get anything productive done and thought your sister would tear you a new one. But she just shrugged, glad to have the actual garage all sorted out and two hours earlier too to boot. It seemed everyone wanted to get out earlier tonight, wanting to enjoy their evenings. It surprised you how many of your co workers were actually married even. It made sense why they'd want to get home. Probably to freshen up and get presentable for reserved dinner dates.
You took an exhale, removing your gloves. looking down to remember who had gifted you such a comfortable pair in the first place. Sophie had made them for you and insisted you wear them to avoid "dying of frostbite". With a chuckle, you looked down at that gift, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Shortly after, you went to dig into you pocket, grabbing the lighter snug deep at the bottom along with the carton of cigarettes. Like clockwork, the same repetitive motions and after work routine as you put the cigarette between your lips and brought light to the end, leaning back against another step right below the top of the stair case where you stayed, allowing yourself to peel the mask you had worn all day off. revealing how lethargic and empty you felt right now.
You zoned out, picturing how nice it would have been if you could have tried to do something nice for her. Maybe you could have invited her over for dinner and a sit in movie. Maybe you could have tried to have reserved dinner at a fancy restaurant in the rich district, dressed up, maybe even faked being a couple to get into a sweethearts ball like you both did a few times in what felt like a past life. If only. You scared her, you broke the trust you both had, and you had no right to her feelings, not after what you did. Not after all the lies you spun, you couldn't even remember who the real you was anymore. Even if things had been better than ever, even if you two had grown so much closer, it was too selfish to want anything more than you already had. You could have your romantic daydreams, but that's all they'd remain, dreams. That was your punishment for being a coward.
You took a drag and glanced at the pile at your feet, remembering the stack of gifts surrounding you , ones you separated from the few you wanted to keep from friends and family, up at the end of the stairs. Even when you denied so many of the clients affections, a number of them insisted you take the gifts anyway. You didn't want to, but you didn't want to hurt them anymore, so you took them and made plans to discard all the pointless boxes, letters and bouquets up in your apartment. It'd be easier to spare them that way.
You exhaled, pulling the stick from your lips for a moment before plopping it back into your mouth, spotting one bouquet, one that made you think of Sophie right away. Bluebells and carnations. You reached for the card, a puzzled expression as you looked over the note attached.
What the? You squinted at the card, a little confused. Had someone slipped a gift in among the other flock of confessions when you weren't looking ,for YOU to give to someone? The emphasis on her made it clear enough that this was from someone that knew you. Knew you too well even. Were you making your feelings too obvious? Was it someone in the shop- It had to be. You spent most of your time home, in the garage or the offices. Now you were curious. Even if you knew you had no chance, that everything you wanted would always be out of your reach, you still wanted to know who the hell tried to set this up? You lifted the card up into the light above you, noticing the familiar business logo and signature. Unnur. So, whoever got this for you went to her shop, but you had seen enough of her hand writing through the years and even recently whenever you snooped through Sophie's belongings. They were pen pals growing up, they definitely knew what flowers she liked- hell you did too. But that wasn't Unnur's handwriting. So who?
The timing couldn't be any better. Complete Sarcasm.
You knew that tone anywhere. She always seemed to keep her thoughts blank whenever she came out lately, making it all the more difficult for you to prepare for her arrival. You swiftly pulled the bouquet at your side behind you, in the pile that would not go right to the trash. You had to act calm, cool, in control of the situation. It would be easier to keep her attention away if you weren't flustered.
You took a long drag, down to the filter before twisting the bud against the concrete step, flicking it down into the trashcan's ashtray by the bottom of the stair case-ready to grab it mentally if you missed aiming it into the desired spot. Thankfully, you had practiced enough that you nailed it on your first try.
"--You have no idea," You ran a hand through your hair before slumping back against the top step, shoving the pile you were ready to discard to the innermost part of the wall with the foot of your boot, already expecting the Hatter to eventually make her way up the staircase. It was stupid of you to think you wouldn't see her today. After all, the two of you would always seem to join together for a good hour or so after work. Talking about the day, sometimes making dinner at one another's home (usually yours since she liked the kitchen layout) the usual between two good friends.
And then she took a seat, cramped and snug right next to you. You couldn't lie that her action made your heart skip a beat. Focus Kazic, its not like she didn't do this all the time already.
'Don't always think early.'
You really wished she would stop with those mantras of hers-this one being very oddly specific, even if it was to protect her thoughts from being heard by you, you were getting tired of hearing them back to back every time she didn't want to reveal something early. And given her schedule and life style, you doubted she cared about what today was anyway. What could she possibly have to hide from you? You watched her view go looking over the open garage, the rays of the sunset setting over her freckled face.
'Don't always think early.'
You were about to ask her why she needed to think that but then she started another question.
Her gaze met your own, before she thought of that god damn phrase again. 'Don't always think early.' You were about to ask if something was wrong but then she popped a question, one that surprised you.
"--Doing anything later tonight?"
You watched the tense red head clear her throat, covering her hand with her other as if to still her nerves. You weren't sure what to say, hell you probably looked so dumbfounded with your eyes widening as you blinked and tilted your head to the side. "--Why would I be? It's not like I'm seeing anyone. Why? "you tried to make light of the situation, smirking as you teased her,"--You trying to sneak into another sweetheart ball for work?"
But when she didn't budge, her eyes still looking into yours so intensely, you eased back, "--I'm kidding," a softer smile over your features. Your hand raised to gently start rubbing her shoulder, "--No, I'm not doing anything tonight. Why, what'd you have in mind?"
Whatever she had planned, she refused to allow you even a small glimpse into her mind, so you were at a standstill, having to wait for her to state her intentions. You wouldn't be surprised if it ended up with her asking to stay the night to evade some loud neighbors or the overwhelming feeling of seeing other couples constantly. Must have been nice for them.
Either or, you were all ears, you'd always clear your plans for Sophie, always. Besides, you still had a gift to give her anyways.
