i cant believe im saying this. im kin with sara from genshin impact. as in the chef in monstadt. im being completely serious.
on a even funnier note, sometimes kaeya and lisa would come sit at the place and chat me up. that was always nice. i dont know how they had time to do that, especially kaeya. he was always so busy, and yet he and lisa always found time to visit and chat with me. i admire them. in my timeline today would be lisa's birthday. happy birthday lisa. i hope you and kaeya are doing well. <3
-your friend, sara, aka "madame chef"
Or, more accurately, Arakita doesn’t think domesticity could ever be his thing. He’s always thought he’s too rough around the edges, too abrasive, too prickly, too everything for it. It’s hard to imagine someone actually wanting all that romantic, sappy stuff from him. When Arakita looks in the mirror, he sees someone who's not meant to have a fairy tale ending. But it’s not like he’s throwing himself a pity party; facts of life aren’t something to get upset over. Water’s wet, he’s not built for romance. Whatever, he can live. It’s not like it’s ever been an issue before. He’s happy to be a warm body to someone, and for someone to be a warm body to him. That’s not going to change just because Kinjou’s interested in him.
Machimiya howls. He bangs his fist against the table, and laughs with his mouth so wide open that Arakita could see the chewed up bits of food inside.
“Shut up, you’re being too loud!” Arakita looks around the office lunch room. Thankfully no one had walked by the door. He didn’t want anyone to overhear them talking and get mistaken for a fan. Damn, why does Kinjou make him feel so self-conscious? “Besides, it’s not like I actually gave my number to him or anything.”
It was then Machimiya stops laughing.
“You didn’t? Why?”
Arakita shrugs. “First time I’ve ever really talked to the guy. I don’t know, felt weird.”
“The guy saves your life and you can’t even give him a few digits?”
Arakita leans back. “Can you please swallow your damn food before talkin’?”
“Whatever” - Machimiya swallows - “what I’m saying is that’s a pretty damn huge perk to have a superhero on speed dial and you say no. What happens to life attempt number five?”
“It’s not gonna happen if I’m careful.” Arakita points a finger at Machimiya when he opens his mouth again to speak. “And I’ve been more careful than I ever have been in my whole damn life.”
“Why do you have such a thing against this guy?”
“I don’t really,” Arakita says. At least not anymore. He stabs his chopsticks into his lunch. “I don’t know how I feel about him.”
Heels click into the lunch room as their co-worker walks in to have her break. Thankfully Machimiya has enough sense to know to stay quiet on the subject now it was no longer just the two of them, but he’s still giving Arakita a toothy grin.
Arakita grimaces, and shoves the rest of his lunch into his mouth to finish it.
“Anyway, I’m going back to my desk.” He looks at the clock on the microwave. “We got four more hours to go.”
Arakita covers his face with a pillow and groans. It’s almost midnight, and if he can’t sleep now he knows he’ll feel tired when he gets to work in the morning. But every time he closes his eyes he ends up cringing.
I should probably get back because of work and all.
Liar. You little – big – liar. It was a Friday. Arakita can only feel so lucky Kinjou didn’t call him out on his bluff when he could, once at the dinner table and the second time on the porch as he was leaving the house. Maybe he should have went in on the Saturday and put in his full eight hours so he wouldn’t feel like such a phony. He can’t believe this is the second time Kinjou has made him lose sleep.
He’s been left thinking about it still while eating breakfast, or typing away at his desk, and in instances like right now in line at the grocery store. His little basket of vegetables and ready-cooked meals and soft drinks, he wants to throw it into the air from frustration. Why does he always remember the stupid things? But he’s an adult, Arakita tells himself, he’ll keep his composure and eventually this weirdness will pass, hopefully after tonight when he stuffs himself full of his favourite foods and falls into a calorie induced sleep. What time is it anyway?
Arakita checks his phone. It’s not too late, there probably will still be sunlight when he gets home. He puts his phone back into the pocket of his trousers, and when the lady at the register greets him he looks up, says hello, and –
Shit.
He made eye contact with Kinjou in the other line again. Is it weird to look away right now? Crap. He did it a bit too fast to be considered casual. Now what will he do? Arakita fumbles with the change in his hand when he gives it to the lady, grabs his grocery bag, and makes haste for the exit. But then he stops at the sliding doors, takes the receipt he shoved into his pocket, and tries to flatten out the crumples. He’s still in his work clothes, maybe there’s a pen somewhere on him still. When he finds it he puts the receipt against the wall and wants to yell as he writes.
When Kinjou walks out the door Arakita gets right in his face.
“Here,” Arakita almost yells it. Almost. He deserves some points for self-restraint.
Kinjou takes a step back.
“What?”
Does he really have to say it out loud?
“It’s my number.” Arakita offers the crumpled receipt to Kinjou. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it anymore.”
Really, Arakita doesn’t know which would be the better option at this point.
Kinjou has recovered from his surprise, and his hand motions forward. He almost takes the slip of paper but hesitates before he can touch it.
“Are you sure?” Kinjou asks.
“I’m positive.”
“I don’t want to force you to do anything.”
“Take it.” Arakita grabs Kinjou’s wrist and drags it toward the receipt. Kinjou’s eyes grow wide. “Take it before I change my mind.”
When Arakita blinks the paper is gone and in Kinjou’s hand instead. His own hand is left outstretched still in the position as if it was holding onto something. Damn, that was fast.
“Thank you,” Kinjou says. He’s still wide-eyed.
“Don’t mention it.” Really. Please.
Arakita straps on his helmet and jumps on his bike. The weather is sure hot today, it’s not his cheeks burning. That wasn’t awkward at all. Now he can go home and have dinner. Really, it’s not like Kinjou is going to actually call him after that. Arakita starts to pedal away.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” Kinjou yells after him.
Arakita raises a hand in the air as a response so Kinjou can see that he heard him. He can’t bear to look back.
