@cfsteel DISCUSSED FOR A STARTER.
Exhausted eyes on settled on the bright screen in front of him, fingers jabbing at the keyboards before he’d move his left hand towards the wireless mouse, tabs switching to confirm his research before he’s back to typing. He is unsure how long he has been at it, his attention having turned only because his blonde friend was setting a mug of piping hot coffee next to him. At the sight of this, he’s grateful, and it shows clear on his face. He doesn’t allow the drink to cool down much before he’s taking a drink of the coffee, curious gaze turning once more to the other boy that now seems to be looming over him – concern written on his physiques and stance.
“Eren, you should take a break. At least thirty-minutes. It’ll do you some good.”
He knew he’d be met with some resistance, but he’d give it a try. Eren had to leave for a week, out of town emergency. By the time he was back, he had fallen behind in all his classes. Given he never missed class, and had fairly good grades, he was given the opportunity to catch up and keep his grades where they were if he got all his work in by their dead line. So, it’s been days now since he’s been working nonstop, taking a nap here and there before he’d load up on coffee, energy drinks and even sugar water to try and stay awake. Showers to wake himself weren’t working much anymore, having been sure he took a nap in the shower at one point.
His lips pinch, and he shakes his head, eyes flickering at the time at the lower right side of the screen. “I have to be at work in an hour, anyways. I might as well get as much done as possible.” He had off work the following day, anyways, so he’d make sure to get an actual good night’s sleep. His words are brushed off with a nod, mostly because the bell above the door goes off to indicate a new customer is entering the café.
Left alone to his work, he eventually finishes the coffee cold, quickly running the mug up to the counter. Laptop is slammed shut and tucked into his bag, notebooks, textbooks and a couple stray pens are also thrown into the mix. Hastily throwing it over his shoulder, he’s bolting for the door, not even realizing he had five minutes now to get to the store, change into his uniform, punch in and be at the very first register that was also a large, rounded off table. Luckily, the uniform isn’t too hard to pull on. He just changes his shirt, and runs his fingers through his hair to tuck as many brown locks back into place as possible, enough to make himself look presentable.
He makes it just in time, clocking in right on the dot. The corner of his lip tugs into a smug smile, and he turns from the backroom to head towards the counter upfront, plopping himself into the rolling chair provided since during the day, the managers had access to the computers that were covered by the counter. He’s in charge of cigarettes, liquor, phone calls… everything, really. He doesn’t mind. He takes care of everything within the hour. That way, once the other cashier leaves, he’s free to do as he pleases unless a customer just happens to stop by. Didn’t happen often, usually only happened for emergency buys.
Faint music plays in the back, and he catches himself repeatedly spinning in the chair, legs tucked under him; head tilted back. A groan comes from him, and he’s aching for morning to come. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s exhausted, but it is an exceptionally boring night. He had even tried to get some work done, but he’s unable to focus.
By now, his legs had untucked, and he’s pushing himself back and forth between the space he had, coming to a sudden stop when he heard the small alert go off that someone had entered. He sits up, and he suddenly appears awake and ready to work. Curious eyes had gone to the door, wondering if it was someone he knew, or someone new. Given not many came so late, he was already familiar with some of the regulars. But no – he could tell whoever had entered was new. He was usually greeted by his first name and a wave before they’d wander off to purchase what they came for.
A shrug pulls over his shoulders, knowing he’d soon find out. Fingers are tapping against the surface of the counter, and he’s only able to hold his fake enthusiasm for work for so long. By now his lips are pinched into a thin line, eyes slightly hooded, head resting in his left hand.
