A/N: Hi my loves! Took me a lil to write it, but I enjoyed writing every second of it; at first i struggled a bit but then i entered full flow state bro i couldn’t stop writing. Beware babes, it’s LONG but i promise you i think it’s the best chapter yet. ENJOY! <3
w.c: 20.4k
The night dragged slower than usual.
Not because Rainbow was empty. It never really was. But because Charlotte kept glancing at the clock every ten minutes like she had somewhere else to be.
Which she absolutely did not.
Obviously.
The bar pulsed around her in waves of music and cigarette smoke, bodies close beneath dim neon lights while some old Motley song blasted from the speakers. Glasses clinked non stop. Old men laughed too hard, girls giggled around the pool tables as they let guys "teach" them how to play. Another guy was already drunk enough to flirt with the jukebox.
Yeah, average night.
Charlotte moved quickly behind the counter anyway, sliding drinks across polished wood with practiced ease.
"Whiskey sour."
She shoved the glass towards a waiting customer.
"Two beers."
Already grabbing them.
"Sweetheart, can I get another-"
"You can wait your turn," she replied fatly without even looking up.
The older man laughed instead of getting offended. "Damn, lil' lady."
"She gets it from me."
Rocky appeared beside her, carrying a crate of liquor bottles like it weighted nothing, dark shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. He set it down behind the counter with a grunt before nudging her lightly with his shoulder. "You're scaring my customers away."
Charlotte snorted softly, "Please. Your customers are alcoholics and failed musicians. Give me a break."
"Exactly. sensitive group."
She rolled her eyes, reaching up to grab another glass from the rack above her head. Rocky watched her for a second before his expression shifted slightly. He smirked, knowingly. "Why you keep staring at the clock?"
"Im working, Rocky."
"Mhm."
"I am."
Rocky dried off a glass slowly, smirking to himself. "Redhead late yet?"
Charlotte almost dropped the bottle in her hand. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, c'mon, sugar." He grinned. "You've been turning to wipe the same spot on that counter for twenty minutes. Its like you're stuck like those fuckin' zoo animals." he laughed dryly.
"I clean when i'm stressed."
"You stressed often around pretty boys?"
She pointed at him immediately. "Don't start."
Rocky barked out a laugh. "Why? it's cute."
"It's not anything, shush."
"Mhm."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're annoying."
"And you're nervous." he leaned closer "You fixed your hair three times in the span of five minutes."
She scoffed, "humidity, duh."
"Sure, sweetheart. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Charlotte grabbed a bar towel and threw it directly at his chest.
He laughed harder.
The rush started dying down around nine thirty, the crowd thinning little by little until Rainbow finally settled into that slower late night haze. Staff wiped tables, stacked stools, counted registers.
Charlotte tied her hair up messily as she cleaned glasses behind the bar, humming a song under her breath.
Then the front door opened.
Cold air slipped in first.
Then him.
Leather jacket, messy red hair. That same lazy walk like he didn't care if anyone looked at him, which only made people look more.
Axl spotted her immediately. Of course he did.
She didn't look up right away, continuing to wipe down the counter like she hadn't noticed him standing there.
He smirked, his voice sliding easily through the noise "Ignoring people isn't your finest skill."
She looked up slowly. "Showing up on time isn't your finest skill."
He glanced towards the clock dramatically as he hopped onto one of the bar stools. "It's thirty minutes."
"You're late."
He chuckled "You sound like somebody's wife already. Chill."
Charlotte narrowed her eyes, shooting him a look. "Shut it." she muttered. Though her warm cheeks gave her away.
And he noticed immediately.
"You blush easily." he murmured
"I hate you."
He leaned his elbows against the counter, cigarette hanging between his fingers as he looked at her for a second too long. Like he was studying something. Which was annoying, mostly because Charlotte could feel it.
"No, you don't."
The answer came easy- too easy.
She rolled her eyes immediately, turning away before he cold notice the tiny smile threating to show on her mouth. "God, you're so full of yourself."
"Says the girl that made me wait a whole day to see pictures of myself."
Axl let out a quiet laugh through his nose, watching her move around the bar while she cleaned. She worked fast, efficient. Barely thinking about it anymore. One hand wiping the counter while the other stacked glasses automatically.
She got pretty hands. Ring catching dim light when she moved, clinking against the glass cups she'd wash, wipe.
He noticed weird shit around her. It was annoying.
Like the way she bit the inside of her cheek when she concentrated. Or how she tucked her loose curls behind her ear with the back of her wrist when her hands were wet.
Like how pretty she is. How she didn't seem to know what to do with it, she didn't lean into attention. Didn't fish for it.
Made him want to look more, which was dangerous.
"What's with you and staring at people?"
He smirked "Only at interesting ones."
Charlotte looked at him for half a second longer than necessary before shaking her head softly, reaching beneath the counter for her bag. "C'mon, before I change my mind."
The hallway behind Rainbow was quieter. The muffled bass from the club thumped faintly through the walls while Charlotte led him towards the back rooms, keys spinning around her fingers.
"You got a whole secret laboratory back here, or wha?" Axl asked.
"It's a darkroom."
"Sounds serial killer-ish."
"You watch too many movies."
"Like it's a bad thing."
She unlocked the door finally, pushing it open before flicking on the dim red safety light, and the room glowed instantly. Axl paused slightly as he stepped inside. It smelled like chemicals, film. The space was small enough that he could easily reach out and touch her if he wanted to. Which immediately became a problem.
Charlotte set her camera bag down carefully before turning toward him. "Ground rules."
Axl leaned against the wall lazily. "Uh oh."
"You don't touch anything."
"Alright."
"You don't distract me."
"That one might be harder."
She shot him a look.
He grinned.
Charlotte rolled her eyes, though she was fighting a smile now as she started pulling film carefully from her camera, Axl watching her quietly for a minute.
It was cute how different she looked. Softer, more focused. Like this was one of the places she fully relaxed in.
"You really love this shit, huh?" he asked eventually.
Charlotte glanced up briefly while clipping negatives ‘’Yeah."
He nodded slowly, understanding. Music was the only thing that ever shut his brain up long enough to breathe. Maybe photography did that for her. "You gonna tell me what you're thinking or just stare like a creep?" she asked.
His mouth twitched. "Maybe both."
"Jesus Christ."
She moved around him to reach another tray and he caught the smell of her shampoo for half a second, his eyes closing for as he breathed in.
Charlotte slid one of the photographs slowly into the chemicals while Axl stepped closer instinctively, eyes dropping towards the paper, seeing a picture of him mid-song and sweaty. He stared at it quietly, "It's so weird seeing yourself the way somebody else does."
Charlotte turned her gaze at it, a tiny smile on her face. "You looked..." she paused briefly, searching for the word. "Different. Up there, i mean."
"How?"
She shrugged lightly, though her voice softened. "Like you weren't pretending. You also looked all cool and bad."
He chuckled, turning his gaze at her "All cool and bad?"
She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hide a smile creeping on her face. "Shut up."
He shook his head a little, amused; looking at her, finding her little embarrassment cute. He noticed how the red light caught against her eyes strangely, softening sharp expressions. Loose curls framed her face messily now after hours of work.
Such a pretty girl.
With a mean mouth.
He was absolutely fucked.
She sighed softly, turning her gaze up towards him "you planning on standing here looking at photographs all night?"
"Depends."
"On?"
"You hungry?"
She looked up immediately, caught off guard by the question. "What?"
"There's a diner nearby."
"At, like, midnight?"
"Less full. More food for us."
She frowned ‘’You trying to fatten me up, or what?"
Axl laughed quietly under his breath.
And that's when Charlotte realized, that she liked making him laugh. Like, really liked.
Which was probably her biggest problem so far.
The diner was nearly empty.
Neon lights buzzed softly overhead while some old Elvis song played low from the jukebox. Charlotte sat curled against the booth in Rocky's oversized leather jacket while Axl sat across from her.
"Coffee?" the waitress asked tiredly.
"Yes, please." Charlotte answered immediately, before looking out the the diner windows, LA glowing blurry and half asleep.
Axl traced his thumb against the side of his mug, before looking at her, deciding to jump straight to it.
"What's your story?"
She freezed for a second, before turning her head slowly towards him.
"You don't have to tell me yet, if you don't wanna." he said as he lit up a cigarette.
She looked at him lighting his cigarette, thinking for a few seconds, before sighing softly, placing her hands on each side of the hot mug in front of her. "Born and raised in New York. Left at 16, my family sucked."
He looked at her for a second, before snorting softly. "Yeah, that usually does it."
She smiled faintly at that before looking down at the table. "Yeah. They wanted me married by eighteen."
His brows furrowed immediately. "To who?"
"Some rich asshole's son." she shrugged. "Both a religious and business thing."
"That's insane."
"Tell me about it."
Her fingers toyed with one of her rings while she spoke.
"They already had my life planned out." she said quieter now. "Who my friends were, what i'd do in my free time. What i'd wear, what music i'd listen to. What i'd say, who i'd marry."
Axl stayed quiet. Listening, Which somehow made it easier to keep talking.
"I couldn't stand it anymore, i felt suffocated. So I left."
His jaw clenched, his voice lower. "Yeah, I know how that's like. I'm sorry to hear.’’ he looked down at his fingers, before turning his gaze back at her. ‘’you were just sixteen."
She smiled faintly into her coffee. "You sound like Rocky."
Axl's lips twitched slightly.
Then she looked up at him properly. "What about you?"
The question lingered in the air for a second, before he leaned back slowly in the booth. "Born and raised in Indiana. My parents where also fucked up. Especially my stepdad, he was the real asshole."
'He used to hit my mom." Axl added eventually, gaze fixated somewhere past the table now. "Me and my siblings too."
She didn't interrupt, letting him talk without feeling the need to pity, making it easier for him to keep talking.
"Whatever, a lot of shit happened." he brushed it off slightly, not wanting to burden her with all the details. "Left at seventeen, which was fuckin' tough. Sometimes I wonder how I made it out alive."
Charlotte looked at him carefully, cause right now he wasn't Axl the frontman, not the loud cocky asshole. Just him.
"You ever miss Indiana?" she asked quietly.
Axl laughed once under his breath. "Hell no."
That made her smile again, and there it was. That feeling.
Like they'd slipped into something more honest without realizing it.
They talked for hours, about nothing and everything. Her telling dumb rebellious shit she'd do back in New York, how life was back there, telling him about rocky, life in LA, about her pursuing arts. He'd shoot back with even dumber shit he'd done when he was her age and younger, making her laugh so hard she'd choke on her coffee, but nothing topped the stories he told about shit he'd done with the band.
Neither noticed how late it got until the waitress refilled their coffee for the third time and muttered, "You two know it's almost four, right?"
Charlotte blinked hard. "Oh my god."
Axl laughed quietly, glancing toward the windows for a second "We should probably get you home before Rocky sends out a search party."
Charlotte groaned immediately, sliding further down in the booth. "Kill me. he's gonna be insufferable."
"He already is."
"You have NO idea."
Axl smirked faintly as he tossed a few bills onto the table as he stood up, stretching slightly. Charlotte grabbed her stuff before following him outside, the cold night air hitting her instantly.
LA felt weirdly quiet at this hour; empty sidewalks, neon signs still buzzing softly. Drunks singing as they fought sleep, and a random couple arguing somewhere outside a liquor store.
For a second, neither of them spoke, until:
"You know," Axl muttered suddenly, "you're different than I thought you'd be."
Charlotte glanced over immediately. "Sounds mean."
"It ain't."
"Then explain."
He shrugged slightly, hands shoved into his pockets. "First night at Rainbow, I thought you were gonna be one of those girls."
"One of what girls?"
"The kinda girls that are too full of themselves. Like, they know they're pretty and then make it everyone's problem."
She narrowed her eyes, before letting a short laugh through her nose. "Right. Charming."
"I'm being' serious."
"That's worse."
Axl smirked faintly, eyes forward as they kept walking. "You had that whole look goin' on."
"What look?"
He gestured vaguely toward her with his cigarette. “The attitude. The staring. Like you were judging everybody in the room.”
"I was judging everybody in the room."
"Yeah, see?" he smirked.
Charlotte grinned a little to herself, shoulder brushing his briefly as they walked on the sidewalk.
"And now?" she asked.
Axl glanced sideways at her for a second before looking ahead again. "Now I think you're just kinda weird."
She gasped dramatically. "Oh, fuck you."
"You carry around charcoal in your purse."
"That called being prepared."
"You got paint on your hand right now."
Charlotte immediately looked down at her fingers. "That's from yesterday."
"Exactly. Oh, and you wanted to dip your burger in your milkshake."
"HEY!" she giggled, "Don't judge a book by it's cover. It was actually quite good."
He fake shivered, making her laugh. "Criminal."
She rolled her eyes, trying not to smile again. "You better shut up, dingus. You chew tobacco. Ew."
"That's different."
"How?"
Axl opened his mouth. Paused
"’Kay, i’ll give you that one."
"Oh, and you think you're so mysterious."
Axl snorted "I am mysterious."
She points at him dramatically.
He rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Oh, fuck off."
She smiled as he accepted defeated. "Bite me."
He smirked, looking at the smug look on her face, it amusing him. When they finally got to the car, he opened her door, closing it carefully.
The inside smelled like cigarettes, old leather, and faint gasoline. Cassette tapes littered everywhere, along with crumpled receipts and papers where lyrics he didn’t like where written. Charlotte picked up one of the tapes curiously.
"You ever clean this thing?"
"Nope."
"Shocking."
Axl slid into the driver's sear beside her, one arm stretching behind her headrest briefly as he looked out the back window, reversing, and making Charlotte suddenly became very aware of how close he was.
The car rumbled onto the street while some low rock station crackled quietly through the speakers, and for a minute neither of them spoke. But i wasn't awkward, just tired now. Charlotte leaned her head lightly against the window, watching blurry neon lights slide past outside while Axl drove one-handed beside her.
4:30 in the morning.
"You tired?" he asked eventually.
She nodded, looking out the window as she answered, voice small. "A little."
"Sleep. We got a bit of a drive to Rocky's."
Charlotte then looked sideways at him. "What if you kidnap me?"
Axl snorted. "No thanks, you'd be an exhausting hostage."
"I would survive just to piss you off."
"That I believe."
Charlotte smiled faintly to herself after that, eyes drifting shut for only a second before opening them again, trying to stay awake.
Axl glanced over briefly. There was mascara smudged faintly beneath her eyes now, her curls slightly messier. She looked tired.
Still pretty enough to make him stupid apparently.
Which was starting to become a issue.
By the time they pulled into Rocky's neighborhood, the sky had started turning that beautiful mix of dark blue and orange right before sunrise. Charlotte sat up straighter, rubbing at one eye tiredly. "Rocky's definetly awake."
"Yeah?"
"I can already see him. On the couch. With a drink in his hand." she said, tiredly, before turning to him dramatically "Help."
Axl smiled slightly at that, pulling into the driveway carefully before killing the engine.
She sighed, seeing the light in the living room glowing. Yep. Rocky.
Neither moved right away, until Charlotte unbuckled slowly, reaching for her camera bag and purse before pausing halfway, looking over at him suddenly.
"You got a pen?"
"Why?"
"Do you or not?"
He smirked faintly digging one out from the mess near the dashboard before handing her one. "Bossy, much?"
Charlotte ignored that, grabbing his hand before he could react properly, turning it palm-down, making him freeze for half a second.
Her fingers were warm, soft. And too comfortable with touching him already.
Charlotte scribbled something quickly across the back of his hand, tongue pressing briefly against the inside of her cheek as she concentrated, and Axl couldn't help but watch her the entire time, completely distracted.
"There."
He looked down. A phone number.
Her phone number.
Axl barked out a quiet laugh through his nose, eyes flicking back up to hers. “That smooth shit work on everybody?”
Charlotte immediately opened the car door before he could see the smile threatening her face. “Relax.” she muttered, stepping out onto the driveway. “It’s not a marriage proposal.”
Axl leaned his arm against the open window, still looking down at the ink on his hand like he found the whole thing way too entertaining. "Mm."
Charlotte narrowed her eyes instantly. “What’s with the attitude?”
"Nothin'."
"That's a lie."
She rolled her eyes, "Look, Rocky's your manager now, and i'll probably see you guys around a lot, so, y'know." she looked at his hand and then back at him "Professional reasons."
There was exactly one second of silence before Axl started laughing.
Not mean.. Worse. Genuinely amused.
Charlotte frowned immediately. "What?"
“Professional reasons?” he repeated, grinning now.
"Yes."
"Cherry."
"Don't Cherry me."Charlotte crossed her arms defensively while he kept looking way too pleased with himself.
"I think you're full of shit."
Her jaw dropped slightly. "Excuse you?"
Axl juts tilted his head, watching her like he had all the time in the world. "You heard me."
She scoffed, taking a step back from the car, arms crossed. "You're an asshole."
"Mhm," he hummed, glancing down at the number on his hand again, dragging his thumb lightly over it to make sure it won't smudge.
"Call or don't call," she cut in quickly, but there was a smile fighting her the whole time now. "I don't care."
"Yeah?" he said, leaning a little closer to the open window, voice dropping just enough to mess with her. "You waited by the clock all day."
Her expression betrayed her for half a second, and that was all he needed.
"Night, Charlotte."
She blinked. Recovered fast.
"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight." she muttered, already turning away before he could catch anything else on her face. "Drive safe."
Axl didn't move right away. "Go inside."
She glanced back at him, eyebrows lifting slightly. "What, you my babysitter now?"
"Humor me."
He waited. Watched her unlock the door, step inside, and only when the door closed behind her did he finally lean back into his seat, exhaling slowly through his nose. His fingers brushed over her number written on his hand once more, slower this time. Like checking if it was real.
"...Jesus christ," he muttered under his breath.
Then, without really thinking about it, he reached over to copy it down on a crumpled receipt, slower than he'd ever admit to. Cause if it washed off?
Yeah. No.
He threw the pen somewhere in the car, his head tipped back against the seat, eyes closing for a second.
And he knew he was done for.
Her laugh wouldn't shut off. The way she looked at him. The way she didn't look away.
"Fuck," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
In a household of vigilantes, detectives and former assassins, there exists a collection of well-loved plushies that nobody talks about but everyone knows exists.
Dick's Zitka
Dick Grayson's most prized possession is a worn grey elephant plush with one ear slightly more floppy than the other. Named Zitka after his favorite circus elephant, this plushie has survived countless moves from the circus to Wayne Manor to Blüdhaven and back. The trunk is frayed at the end from years of Dick absently rubbing it while reading case files, and one of the button eyes has been replaced three times. Alfred has quietly repaired Zitka so many times that he keeps grey thread specifically for this purpose in his sewing kit.
"Hey, don't judge," Dick once told Jason when he caught him with Zitka perched on his pillow. "She's seen me through my Robin days, my Nightwing transition, and every terrible haircut in between."
What nobody mentions is how Bruce made sure to grab Zitka first when the manor caught fire that one time.
Jason's Nero
Long before Jason became Robin, before he was stealing tires off the Batmobile, little Jason Todd had "acquired" a plush black cat from somewhere. The story changes depending on who asks and what mood Jason's in: sometimes he says it was his mom's, sometimes he claims he saved it from being thrown away, once he told Tim he stole it from a department store.
The truth, which only Alfred knows, is that Catherine Todd had seen little Jason staring longingly at the plush cat in a store window for weeks. She had saved up and finally bought it for him on one of her better days. Jason named it Nero and slept with it every night.
When Bruce found Jason after his resurrection, the boy was clutching a ragged black cat plushie that no one remembered him packing when he left to find his birth mother. How it survived, nobody knows. Jason doesn't talk about it, but Tim once spotted Nero sitting next to Jason's guns on a shelf in his safehouse, carefully positioned to watch over him while he slept.
Tim's Detective Hopps
Tim Drake's stuffed bunny sits proudly on his bookshelf, wearing a tiny detective hat and magnifying glass that Tim made himself. He pretends it's ironic—a joke gift from Stephanie—but actually, he's had this bunny since he was four and used to stage elaborate mystery scenes for it to solve.
"Detective Hopps and I are consulting on this case," Tim will say with a completely straight face when someone catches him talking to the bunny at 3 AM during a particularly difficult investigation. The bunny has somehow acquired a tiny Red Robin cape that nobody admits to making.
Damian once kidnapped Detective Hopps during a prank war, only to return the bunny 24 hours later with a tiny ransom note and, oddly, a new miniature utility belt. Tim never mentioned it, but the utility belt stayed.
Duke's Champ
Duke Thomas has a well-loved teddy bear named Champ that his parents gave him when he was born. The bear has gone through every major life event with him, including the move to Wayne Manor. Duke doesn't hide Champ, but he doesn't broadcast his existence either.
Champ sits on a chair in Duke's room, usually wearing whatever team jersey Duke is supporting that season. The bear has tiny reading glasses that Duke swears were a joke gift from Barbara, but actually, he made them himself because "Champ likes to read too."
Once during a thunderstorm, Damian found Duke reading aloud to Champ but instead of mocking him, simply sat down with his own plushie and listened to the story.
Damian's Army
Damian Wayne has an entire battalion of stuffed animals, meticulously arranged by species and size on shelves in his room. He claims they're "tactical training models" and has been known to use them to plan missions, giving each one a Justice League code name.
His favorite, though, is a small, slightly lopsided teddy bear that doesn't match the others. It's crudely stitched in places with visible seams, wearing a tiny red hood. Jason made it for him after Damian's resurrection, when the youngest Wayne admitted during a rare vulnerable moment that he sometimes felt alone even in a house full of people.
"This is ridiculous, Todd," Damian had said, accepting the bear with careful hands.
"Yeah, well, sometimes ridiculous things keep the nightmares away," Jason replied.
What nobody knows is that Damian named the bear Habibi and keeps it hidden under his pillow where only Alfred, who changes the sheets, knows about it.
Bruce's Ace
Bruce Wayne has a very old, very worn plush dog named Ace. The brown fur is nearly bare in spots, one ear is definitely hanging by threads, and the stuffing has been replaced at least twice. Bruce's parents gave it to him, and after their deaths, young Bruce carried it everywhere until Alfred gently suggested that perhaps Ace would be safer staying in bed.
Bruce doesn't acknowledge Ace's existence to anyone but Alfred. However, on the anniversary of his parents' deaths, the plush dog mysteriously migrates from its hiding place in Bruce's closet to his bed. The next morning, it's always back in the closet, and nobody mentions it.
Once, during a particularly bad bout of pneumonia, Dick found Bruce sleeping with Ace tucked under his arm. When Bruce woke up and saw Dick noticing, he simply said, "Tell anyone and I'll make you run the Gotham perimeter in January."
Dick just smiled and replied, "Your secret's safe with me, B. Zitka wouldn't want me to betray a fellow plushie guardian."
The real guardian of all these secrets is Alfred, who has photographic evidence of each family member with their respective plushie. These photos are kept in a secure folder labeled "Emergency Emotional Leverage." So far, he hasn't needed to use it, but it's nice to know it's there.
After the rather embarrassing misunderstanding between them (and a half-hearted apology from Zephyr after biting Uriel’s hand) the two quite awkwardly finished up the work in silence. Zephyr was chewing harshly on his bottom lip as he stared at the paper slips, not daring to look up for the fear of Uriel looking at him at the same time and the two making eye contact.
Uriel’s brows were furrowed as he hunched over his files, some strands of his fluffy white hair hanging around his face. His hand dully throbbed, as Zephyr’s bite had broken skin. ‘That mailman could be mean when he got angry,’ Uriel thought to himself, pressing his pencil to the paper with more force then necessary, the lead breaking with a small sound that was much louder than it should’ve been in the awkwardly quiet room. Uriel winced. Zephyr dared to take a split millisecond for his green eyes to dart over, take it in, and look back to his own paper.
Uriel tossed the pen into the garbage can by his side, which was already overflowing with papers, spam letters, and random junk; like snapped rubber bands, the plastic wrap he used for his sandwiches, some red plastic cups with some sticky leftover coffee in the bottoms. Uriel didn’t particularly enjoy coffee that much, but it kept him awake, so he was willing to drink it. If anything, he was pretty used to it now.
Zephyr coughed awkwardly, still not making eye contact. “Uh…ya don’t need to throw that away, y’know. Ya could still use it.”
Uriel narrowed his eyes, giving Zephyr a weirded look. “Literally what do you mean?”
Zephyr shrugged, fiddling with his own paper. “Well I dunno, ya could maybe maybe try sharpening your pencils when they break, instead of just throwing em’ away? That’s kinda a waste of perfectly fine-“
“They’re free.” Uriel cut in, giving Zephyr a side eye as Zephyr ducks his head, the black and white locks covering the sides of his face. “The Company gives them. Might as well take as advantage of their ‘generosity.’” He then went back to his files, grumbling under his breath, something about how ‘the [#%\*$&!] Company could give him unlimited pencils but not decent coffee.’
Zephyr rolled his eyes, suddenly not feeling awkward anymore as his usual attitude came back. “If the coffee here bothers ya so much, just don’t drink it. It’s better than hearing ya mouth run all the time, jeez- I dunno how ya even drink that rubbish on the regular. It can’t be good for ya.”
“Tch, leave me and my coffee alone. What do you know about what’s good for me or not, anyway? You probably live in a crumbling apartment and eat cold TV dinners for all your meals.” Uriel’s shoulders visibly tensed as he jabbed verbally at the Mailman.
Zephyr’s face reddened, and his whole body went rigid. “How [#%^#!$&] dare ya-“
Uriel smirked, seeing he had gotten under Zephyr’s skin as he waved a pale hand, cutting him off. “What? Gonna deny it? We both know it’s true. I mean, what are you going to do? Huh? Not like you can even reach the doorbell to complain to the Manager-“
“I’M GONNA-“
The loud buzzer suddenly sounded from the speakers, a sound which most knew that meant working hours were over and they could all go back to their homes. Some, who were in debt or having a long term contract, lived in the Company building, on one of the lower, underground floors. Uriel never really saw that class of Lightals outside. He didn’t think much about it, however.
Zephyr snapped his jaw shut, grinding his teeth together as he hopped off the stool, shoving the slips he had done carelessly over to Uriel. Then spinning on his heel, he walked out, his mailman’s cap pulled low over his eyes as he slammed the door behind him. Uriel guessed he was still mad. Made sense. The Mailman had issues.
Uriel sighed, standing up as he stretched, rolling his shoulders with a wince. He’d admit he wasn’t in the best shape, but then again, being hunched over eyesores for hours didn’t help anything, especially not his mentality. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, then proceeded to rub his eyes, smearing the bit of eyeliner once so carefully applied. That was another one of the Company’s strange laws in the contract, along with having to always wear some badge or imprint of the company’s symbol, wear a thick black eyeliner. They were weird conditions, but who cared, as long as he got paid. Zephyr had the same eyeliner, but his was much more intricately done, and neater.
Uriel grabbed his tattered briefcase and flipped off the lights of his office, not bothering cleaning up the mess. It could all wait. But for right now, he was tired and just wanted to get something to eat. He walked out, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Outside the building, everything was pretty normal. Tired Lightals making their way downtown, away from the town, to their houses, to the stores- they all had their own goals.
Uriel stuffed one hand in his pocket, the other carelessly swinging his briefcase back and forth in a swinging motion. Not looking forward to going back to his trashy place just to eat cold food, he decided to treat himself to the little cafe not too far down the road. He had earned it, after all, after having to put up with all his coworkers mischief, the attendant’s foolishness, and a certain mailman’s aggression with led to his hand being wrapped in a homemade bandage- it didn’t throb as much as it did, and merely ached a little.
Never the less, he turned down the correct road; walking slowly amongst all the other Lightals. Some were quite lively with others, and others quiet and by themselves, so the sidewalks were pretty busy. They usually were after all Lightals were let out from work, anyway.
As he walked, he surveyed his surroundings, the people, and the buildings. Most of the buildings were old, having crumbling brick as their walls instead of sleek multi-layer, like at the Company’s huge building. It was a bit queer. The Company’s building stuck out like a sore thumb among all the small shops and brick buildings, it’s sleek metal sides and clear glass windows serving as enough eye candy for anyone to gaze at it longingly after being in the dump for a while. Sure, many Lightal shop-owners would’ve loved to upgrade their shops, but did any of the Lightals have the creds to do so? Hardly. So many just left their old buildings be, so they could rot and crumble away from the inside, yet still look inviting from the out. They needed sales.
The Company’s glass windows looked untainted from afar.
i was high earlier and was on discord and had some THOUGHTS ok
just some fluffy gamer beomgyu <3
bf!beomgyu who, when you’re not spending the night together, always wants to talk with you because he’s so in love
bf!beomgyu who has a server with you and a bunch of friends but, more often than not, will put his acc in invisible mode so he can just have one-on-one vcs with you
bf!beomgyu who, when you two actually do get on the server vc, will get annoyed if anyone that isn’t you tried to backseat game - if it is you, however, he’ll do literally anything you tell him to
bf!beomgyu who will ask you what game you want to watch him play and stream it for you
bf!beomgyu who always lets you take control of character design or any other sort of customization
bf!beomgyu who is the reason you’ve downloaded so many games, just to play them with him
bf!beomgyu who will tell you to go to sleep when it’s obvious you’re falling asleep, and whenever the call ends, he’s all smiley and blushing because he’s so in love with you and loves your vcs together :)
