Chapter Text
There was something puzzling about time.
Sometimes days passed so fast, galloping until all one could do was head home after a tiresome journey of eight or even more hours of work or study, and after taking a shower and eating, only a few minutes of awake time would remain.
But other times, days would pass so lazily. The minutes seemed to not tick away. The sun would hold high up in the sky and even what was supposed to be 7 PM would look like an eternal morning.
Nonetheless, time was passing and Rosinante was feeling it in his skin, his bones, his very core.
He no longer held that stamina his younger version had; waking up early to deal with a handful of energetic children was taking a toll on him. Not that he wanted to admit it.
His lungs were complaining more and more of the tobacco, but he couldn't stop. Didn't want to. There was nothing else to relax his aching mind and body after all those days, months and years of the same routine.
Because almost nothing had changed since his teenagehood and he recognized it as adulthood. After all, he had followed the steps of studying, getting a job, a home, and that was that. Nothing else to get. At least not something that was achievable.
Rosinante had given up on dating and anything resembling a love life years ago, when he was around 30. All he had were either disappointments or bonds that broke peacefully, but left a wound either way, and now, at 40, he sure as hell had no more patience to give love another chance.
He was old and tired and facing another heartbreak wasn't on his priorities.
It was fun enough to go out here and there to sit with a few friends to chat, risk some drunk moves on the dance floor, before heading back home.
Sometimes something akin to loneliness would hit him and it hurt seeing couples walking around. Sometimes he'd envy what his married friends had. A bitter sensation would linger on his mouth, but it wasn't like he was unhappy. He just didn't have such a strong connection to anyone.
The companionship. The care. The camaraderie. The love and kisses and hugs and plans for a better future.
Maybe those were what Rosinante truly envied.
But he was fine. He had settled. He was aging and there was nothing he expected from life anymore.
It was autumn, close to Halloween, and with it, many coffee shops opened a special menu containing absolutely wonderful options (with some being a bit odd too), but Rosinante loved to try the pumpkins and sandwiches in the format of bats, bloody fingers or gorey eyes.
Made him feel like a real depraved, but that was the intention, right? Autumn was for fun, to let your inner child roam free, or so they said.
While waiting for his special drink of apple and cinnamon with touches of what was being called blood, but was clearly syrup, Rosinante approached the bakery case, eyeing the muffins and cupcakes all lined up tentatively.
One in particular held his attention. It was imitating a little orange monster, but the flavor seemed pretty good.
Well, another little treat wouldn't be too much, right?
As it was the last one, Rosinante hurriedly tried to pick it. Tried. Because someone else reached for the muffin at the same time and their hands awkwardly, but naturally intertwined. Fingers slipping into each other while precariously holding the big sized muffin.
Speechless and still not fully aware of what had just happened, the blonde looked to his side and found a tall man with gray eyes and a beard.
He wore a hat. One that Rosinante would never mistake no matter where he went or how much time had passed.
"L-Law?"
