Melody. {B-52 x MA}
A/N: Bifty just,,,, needs to be protected okay, he’s baby ;A;
Fandom: Food Fantasy Pairing: B-52 x MA/Reader
B-52 is seemingly aloof. Whether it be out of his own accord or simply unaware of what the world does without him, he tends to lose focus until some outside force draws him back in. Those forces typically rope him in for their own gain, but moments like these are the sweetest; When MA draws him back to reality, it’s always calming, careful, something about it felt warmer than the fire that followed behind him.
Their voice sounded heavenly this time around, instantly bringing his eyes back into focus as he stared at the empty shelf in front of him. A quick glance around reminded him of his previous task—stocking the top shelf for MA to avoid the need for them to climb up and hurt themselves. MA’s voice faintly hit his ears once again, causing him to leave his responsibilities to follow the sound.
It was... melodic. Beautiful and just a tad raspy in places—were they talking? B-52 couldn’t make out any solid words, but their tone rose and fell with grace and he wanted to witness the waves they produced in person.
He rounded corners, weaved through the bustling kitchen, only semi-politely moving customers out of his way in the dining area as he followed their voice. It wrapped around him; the melody felt physically compelling—it evoked such a vast mixture of emotions that B-52 couldn’t comprehend.
Poking his head through the doorway to their room, he watched as they spun around gracefully, moving to tie their apron on and return to work. Their face was so relaxed, calm, yet so passionate as they sang the words to their favourite song; Master Attendant was truly in their own world, unaware of how they have been blessing those across their restaurant with the beauty of their voice.
The sight was something ethereal. The light that danced in from the window moved alongside them, creating such a heavenly glow that mirrored their melody.
The creak of the floorboards beneath his feet caught MA’s attention, causing them to jump and immediately flush out of embarrassment. They scratched the back of their neck, their smile showing how nervous they’ve become.
“O..oh! B-52! I didn’t see you come in,” they tripped over their words.
“Master Attendant,” he moved towards them, “Why did you stop?”
“Um... stop.. Stop what?”
“What you were doing with your voice. What was it? Why did you stop?”
“You mean singing?”
“Singing? So changing your voice to fit a certain... What is it called...”
“Key?”
“Key. That’s what singing is?”
“Well, yes.”
“Why did you stop?”
They laughed, avoiding B-52's gaze, and question, which confused him. Carefully, he brought his hands to their face, caressing it gently to bring their eyes back to his own. The darker tone to their face was a nice change of pace, he thought, though he didn’t quite understand why.
“I think your... singing... is very nice,” he put lightly, “Will you do it again for me?”
