Chapter Text
How else was he supposed to have reacted?
He’d known this man for about two days- and sure, he knew more about him than other people would have at that stage, but no matter how much he knew about Grian, he didn't trust him enough yet to tell him. Tell him about her.
She had been..everything. His best friend, his lover, his only confidant, a shoulder to lean on. Loving her was so deep, so beautiful, so painful- every interaction they had had was like the most intimate thorn in his side. Tears would spring to his eyes when she would invade his head, taking over his dreams and casting her shadows across every inch of his brain. Weaving her tentacles around him, making him smile as she choked the life out of him. The love he gave pierced him through the middle, bending him over physically until he was dry-heaving over his floor. It was difficult to eat, drink when she was in his head. Dizzying when she was there. A constant buzz of worry in his very bloodstream that he wasn’t good enough for her, that he was a burden. A pit building up in his stomach that pushed his organs to the side to make space for- so much that he wanted to reach into his mouth and pull out his still bearing heart to give himself space to breathe. Something in him had explained it all away by cross referencing all the fairy tales where people would go mad for their lovers, and wasn’t this just a modernised version of that? But the love ate at him away from the inside, and when she couldn’t take it any longer, all the things he had shaken and cried over had come true. She had left. Now here he was, a healing, lovesick husk. Trying desperately to piece himself back together, even when she had left with half the puzzle.
“Your lunch time's nearly over, Scar.” Cleo’s soft accent pierced his wonderings.
“Oh,” he slowly switched back on, “is it?”
“Yes. It is.” They narrowed her eyes and Scar pulled himself together. It was just the two of them in the shop now. The afternoon light filtered through his dream catchers.
“Ok. Sorry, I kind of..”
“I know.”
“..thanks, Cleo.”
“No problem.”
He dragged himself round the counter once more. Robotically, he poured pre-made muffin mixture into cases and turned the oven dials that were worn off of any distinguishable temperature on. Taking deep drags from a mug filled with a stark black filter, he felt his body begin to come back to life with every sip. He sat on the counter waiting for the timer, which seemed to beep far too quickly and far too loud. Morning routine, lunchtime routine, evening routine. Why did he do this again? Another day passed by, as quickly as it had come, and after packing up, he traipsed upstairs and collapsed into bed, his mind ticking over every detail and every coffee order, keeping him up well into the night.
Scar jumped as something fluffy wound through his legs.
“Crap! Sorry, hold on-” he told the customer in front of him. Placing the cup on the counter, he shot downwards and grabbed at the cat that was running around his shoelaces.
“Come here, Jellie!”
Finally grasping the fuzzy creature, he straightened and trapped her in his arms. She mewled at him from her prison- clouds of fur went up like a dandelion releasing its seeds- and Scar registered the man in front of him.
“Jellie, I presume?”
“Grian!” Scar grinned over the writhing mass of fur at his friend, “sorry about this one.”
“No, not at all! She’s gorgeous.” Jellie wriggled her face between Scar’s two arms and Grian's eyes widened. “I take it back. I'm taking her home with me.”
“You don't want this trickster, trust me. This is the third time this month she’s gotten through her gate.”
“I've got two tricksters back home. She’d fit right in.” Grian smiled as Jellie stared with green eyes at this stranger. Slowly blinking, his smile softened when she inevitably blinked back. A calmness came over Jellie, and she stilled in Scar’s arms.
“You're good with cats.”
“I've actually managed to teach Pearl a few tricks! Maui is uncooperative, though.”
“Are they your cats?”
“Yes,” Grian chuckled, “they’re…well, they're cats.”
“I can relate.” Tightening his grip on the wriggling pompom in his arms, he motioned to the door to his apartment. “One second.”
Placing the loaf-like cat on the other side of the barrier he had set up, Scar frowned at her as she stared up at him angrily.
“You silly cat.” Jellie narrowed her eyes further. You silly human, she seemed to reply. He briefly wondered how smart Jellie actually was, and if the fluffy facade she put on was all a ruse to take over his shop. Then she stalked straight into the stair banister, and he scrapped that thought.
“Behave,” he sighed, “please.”
“How was your day?” He asked Grian once he'd punched the battered coffee machine enough to produce drinkable liquid, “I would've thought you'd be working this time of day.”
“Oh, no, I've got a day off of lectures every fortnight.” Scar scoffed.
“Fortnight.” He muttered.
“I'm sorry that I use articulate language, is it too…formal for you, Scar?” Grian smiled coyly.
“No, no…not at all,” Scar replied, words laced with an equal amount of sarcasm, “it simply-”
“What’s going on?” Just as Scar had started to worry Grian was going to bring up the 20 questions game, a voice broke through their bantering, and they turned as the scent of floral perfume reached their noses.
“Gem!”
The duo focused their attention on a woman with cropped ginger hair pinned back with flower hair clips, a flowing, gothic dress covered in lace draped to her ankles, who had butted through the queue and now stared pointedly up at the two of them. Grian recognised her instantly, embracing her.
“Hello!” He said enthusiastically. Scar watched over his shoulder, eyebrows knitting together. Who’s this?
“You must be Scar!” The woman- Gem- told him happily, “I've heard a lot about you.” Scar glanced at Grian, both of them blushing slightly.
“Uh- yeah! I'm Scar,” he confirmed, “it's a pleasure to meet you!” His head juddered a little as he tried to input all of the information she was giving off. Her dark eyeliner and equally imposing dress would have usually meant a cold greeting, but instead she was lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet with a wide smile and a bubbly voice that lilted over Grian’s.
“G, you didn't tell me he was handsome! I should have known you're putting yourself out here in the States.”
Scar’s blush deepened. At once, both him and Grian protested against this.
“We’re not-”
“It’s-”
“Well-”
Gem started to laugh, giggles as happy as her smile.
“You guys, take a joke, come on.” She gripped the counter and considered the board of drinks, eyebrows furrowing in over-exaggerated concentration. “I'll have an almond cappuccino, and Grian will have-”
“A black americano. I know.” Gem looked impressed.
“Damn, G, he even knows your coffee order. May I say ‘meant to be’?”
Before Grian could interject and deny it, Scar jumped in.
“If it's any consolation, I know everyone's coffee order.”
“Scar’s got an incredible memory.” Grian explained.
“Awesome.” She said in awe, looking up at Scar. “And could I have it in a takeaway cup? We're sitting in but I hate drinking out of a mug.” She skittered off to a booth without further comment, and Grian shrugged as he followed, Scar filing the details away. Not a relative, not another teacher…maybe just a friend? Really doesn’t care what other people think, but awesome style.
Sunlight dribbled through the windows onto Grian and Gem’s seat, and even though they were out of earshot, Scar occasionally caught Gem’s loud laugh or Grian’s cutting tone. Still in rush hour, he worked the coffee machine to death. Yet his eyes kept on being drawn over to their booth. They didn’t look like they would fit together particularly well- Grian sat upright in a slightly newer jumper than usual, and Gem lounged along the whole seat like nobody’s business, the fabric of her dress covering the chair with black satin. Heck, it was difficult to even think about them in anything but a rather oxymoronic sentence! Nevertheless, there they sat, their conversation flowing like a river for a whole hour. One time, Scar looked up, and they were both bent over a large book (it was more of a tome- not quite old enough to be one, though) and argued for a solid 15 minutes about one page, which from what Scar could see was covered in dense lettering and a large caricature of a prison mugshot. Watching them idly, the doomed employee let himself dream once again as he robotically prepared coffee after coffee after coffee.
They left soon after- and the light went with them. Rain spat against the café’s windows, the crowd dissipating not long after. A biting breeze flew through the shop, and Scar shivered under his apron. It’s almost my lunch break, anyways.Watching the world become washed out and grey, and the last customer leaving, he switched the open sign around to close, shutting the windows and letting himself warm up. He pulled on a hoodie, glancing at the messy tables and deciding against cleaning them, and pouring himself a hot chocolate. Preparing to go back upstairs and put on his records for the next hour, he turned towards the door leading to his rooms and started towards them. It was only as he heard a quiet knock at the door that he stopped. Through the rain-covered windows he spotted a familiar figure in a damp red sweater.
“Grian!” He said, opening the door and ushering the man inside.
“Hey, Scar.” Looking a little like a soggy cat, he glanced around the shop. “There it is!” He bent over and retrieved the book Scar had seen earlier. “I knew we had left something behind.”
“Ooh, what is it?”
“It’s a criminal psychology book. Gem and I are massive true crime nuts and occasionally we go out for coffee and look over these old cases- it’s been a while since we’ve been in the same city, so when I first came here, I called her almost instantly.”
“Oh awesome! I’ll be honest- horror and crime is not my bag at all…” grinning sheepishly, he added, “I’d much rather watch Star Wars and Disney all day.”
“Even as a huge fanatic, I can agree. It’s some dark stuff- definitely a once- a- month kinda thing.”
“Your friend seems like she knows a lot about dark… how’d you meet her?”
“Oh- Gem? I met her when I went travelling.” Grian chuckled at the memory. “She’s a little quirky, to say the least, but she’s the event organiser at the museum, so I think that’s what got her the job.”
“I knew it was something in art!” They both laughed.
“Anyways…thanks for letting me in. I’m a little late for my next lecture, but I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
“I look forward to it!” Scar smiled softly. “See ya!”
When he went back upstairs and started flicking through his vinyls, his stomach began to flutter.