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The most beautiful person he’d ever seen.
Franky had been ruminating on this notion since seeing them, running the concept over and over in his head until it was smooth and faultless. Until his conclusion was sound, and he was entirely certain.
They were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He couldn’t remember there ever being a time he’d ever been so immediately affected just by the sight of someone. They were graceful and thoughtful and patient, so immediately his opposite that he couldn’t deny his attraction.
They had been in front of him in line at the coffee shop. The person behind the counter was colossally slow. Even he was getting annoyed, arms crossed and head bowed, chewing on his own spit. It was all the more annoying because he was only getting a large fountain pop, which would only take mere seconds for the overwhelmed barista to get to him.
But the person in front of him just smiled through it all, a sort of expression that was a little distant, a quiet thing that alluded to unimaginable depth. It was amazing to him how understated they were, despite being so deeply lovely. Their drink ended up taking long enough that eventually they retrieved a small notepad from their patchwork purse, and began drawing. He would’ve loved to say he gave them their privacy, allowed them to exist without his prying eyes, but he was just too enamored. Besides, he was tall enough that to fully avoid getting a look at their doodles he would have to completely look the other way.
They drew a small portrait of the stressed out barista, complete with wobbly spirals around their head, and a few hash marks for the blush coloring their face. It was childish; round shapes and disproportionate features.
Franky was positively endeared.
By the time the stranger’s drink was delivered to them, Franky had decided that he was in love with them. They didn’t say anything about the wait, or the frazzled demeanor of the barista, or even about the state of their drink (there was quite a bit of the drink on the outside of the cup). They just paid, and thanked the person. They took a napkin and used it to protect their hand as they took their drink, and then they turned around.
“Oh,” they said as they raised their eyes to look up at Franky. “You’re very tall,” they noted.
Franky couldn’t say anything. He just laughed, a weird, breathy thing, as though the sound was squeezed from his lungs by their long, slender fingers.
“Excuse me,” they hummed after a beat, with an apologetic smile. They stepped around him, and out of the way. Franky stared after them regardless, not moving up in line, too frozen by that interaction.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, something that usually required quite a bit of caffeine to achieve.
A goofy smile was stuck on his features even as the sour old woman behind him snapped him from his daze with a rather rude comment.
He continued to think about the interaction long after the moment had passed. He thought about it so much that he barely registered the day as it passed. The ice in his fountain pop melted before he remembered to drink it, and that never happened. He was grimacing after too big of a sip when he heard a small voice speak up.
“Is this scalpel actually sharp?”
Franky looked down to the source, surprised to see a short young man wearing a bright red top hat, pointing at a doctor themed toy set in the case between them.
“Well,” he began, setting his styrofoam cup down, “that all depends on your imagination,” he said with a smile.
The boy just looked at him, expression blank yet decidedly unamused.
“This is important for my career.”
“Oh,” Franky said. “Right.”
He dutifully retrieved the set in question, setting it on the counter in front of the boy. He went on his toes to peek into the case. He lifted wide brown eyes to look up at Franky, silently asking for permission. Franky gestured to it with one large hand, taking a step back as he crossed his arms. The boy smiled, standing on the very tips of his toes now, anchoring his elbows on the edge of the counter to look into the box. He inspected each of the hard plastic tools, giving the bright yellow and decidedly child-safe scalpel a sidelong look. He held up the blue reflex hammer, testing the weight of it in his hand. He looked up at Franky again, with only some suspicion now.
“Do you sell a lot of these?” he asked. Franky pinched his chin in his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully.
“Not usually to kids your age,” he said.
“My mom won’t buy me a real set,” he replied with a begrudging expression, which was an exceedingly funny look to see on a child’s face.
“I see,” he said with a sage nod. “Well, I can attest that this set is the most super realistic that I have in stock.”
“Really?” he asked, setting the hammer down. “Have you gotten a check up from someone using it?”
“Well, no—“
“Then, how can you attest ?”
Franky blinked.
“I guess I can’t.”
“Wouldn’t you like to be able to?”
“Of course!”
Ten minutes later had the pair giggling uncontrollably at the way Franky’s knobby knees involuntarily kicked out when hammered. Franky’s face was adorned with multiple neon colored bandaids, one across his forehead, two in an x on one cheek, another along the angle of his jaw. His normally perfect pompadour was currently being manipulated by a large bandage, squashing the stiff hair against his forehead.
Chopper—the young man’s name, Franky had learned—gently tapped his knee again, and his foot kicked out. He laughed, a loud, rasping thing, and Chopper laughed too, a much more pure yet shrill sound.
“You’re cool,” he suddenly said. “You’re good to hang out with.”
Franky looked at him, struck by the earnesty of the young man’s words. He blinked a few times, a wobbly smile coming onto his face as tears filled his eyes. He sniffed hard, squeezing his eyes shut.
“No one’s ever called me c-cool before!” he exclaimed, voice breaking halfway through.
“Hey!! Don’t cry!” Chopper protested, putting a hand on Franky’s bicep, his voice reflecting his own distress.
Giggling had turned to sniffling, the two caught up in the emotion of making a new friend after a lonely spell, the significance not lost on either. Both were so distracted that they didn’t hear the distant bing-bong announcing the arrival of another patron, and Franky was wiping tears from his eyes when he spotted them.
They were standing beside a display, observing the two, a fond smile on their face. Their arms were crossed over their chest, body language reserved but expression so open. Franky was immediately lost in it, still wet eyes going wide, flushed face only getting redder.
Chopper eventually turned to where he was looking, brightening immediately. He waved with his hammer, wiping tears on the shoulder of his tee shirt, sending his top hat a little lopsided.
“Hey, Robin,” he said brightly.
“Hello, Chopper. Have you made a new friend?” they asked, their voice even and lovely.
“Yeah! This is Franky,” Chopper said, gesturing with his hammer. Franky waved, suddenly feeling very sheepish, and only made more so when they— Robin —waved back.
“I see,” they hummed. “I appreciate you helping Chopper test out one of your fine products,” they spoke to him directly, making enough eye contact that the hair on the back of Franky’s neck stood up.
“Of course,” he finally said, voice quiet, gentler than it normally came. “Always important to know exactly what you’re getting.”
“Is it?” Robin asked, raising one eyebrow, smile quirking just enough to squint their eyes.
Franky was in love.
“Yeah,” Chopper spoke up, bonking Franky’s knee once more. His foot kicked out. “Obviously.”
Robin laughed.
It was a weird sound, similar in essence to his own but so, so different, unlike anything Franky had ever heard and ever would again. It was a halting little giggle, odd in a completely unique way, odd in a completely wonderful way. Franky couldn’t help but laugh then too, joy bubbling up in him in such a profound way that it just had to come out. Chopper laughed too, putting a hand on his forehead as he leaned back, sending peals of giggles up towards the tall ceilings of the toy store.
Franky remembered thinking that he just couldn’t never have a moment like that one again.
“Alright, Chopper, it is about that time,” Robin said after their laughter had died down a bit. They held out a hand to him, and he took it, hand small in theirs. Their smile was so fond as they looked at Chopper, and when they turned it on Franky, the expression didn’t change.
“We’d like to buy the set.”
“ Really?! ” Chopper beamed, looking excitedly between the two, still holding his hammer tightly in one fist.
“Of course! You were satisfied with your test, were you not?” Robin asked, and of course Chopper nodded, with so much exuberance that his hat shifted a little on his head.
The two looked up at Franky then, once again bringing him into their moment, that realization of inclusion making his throat catch, a growing lump making it hard to swallow, hard to breathe.
“Would that be alright?” Robin asked softly, their words spoken so intentionally.
They could do anything and it would be alright.
“Super of course!” Franky practically barked, standing to his feet abruptly. Robin laughed again, but not unkindly. Even if it had been, Franky still would have just felt grateful to be able to hear their laugh at all.
He hurried behind the counter, the bandaid stuck to his forehead coming loose on one side and drooping into his line of sight. Instead of yanking it off, he simply smoothed it back into place, and then gave Robin a little smile as they stepped up to the cash register. Chopper was busy packing everything into his new case, proudly smiling at each of the brightly colored tools.
“Thank you,” Robin said as they retrieved their wallet from their purse. “We just moved here. It’s been difficult for him to make friends. He has to come here with me when I go to work, and I was so worried it would make him…” they paused, searching for their words, holding their wallet with both hands, “grow up too fast,” they finally concluded, looking up at Franky, brows knit and soft eyes so sad that once again his throat caught, and he cleared it hard, blinking a few times.
“He can super come by anytime he likes. I’m in the business of keeping kids… kids,” Franky said, gesturing to the toy shop around them. Robin smiled then, a slow, grateful thing.
“I’ll let him know. I hope to see more of you, Franky,” they said quietly, before setting a few bills on the counter between them. A red top hat bounded up to their side, and Chopper took their free hand.
“You too,” Franky finally said, giving them both a big smile, unashamed of how brightly he was blushing.
“It was good to meet you, Franky. Make sure you keep those reflexes in check!” Chopper spoke up, tone very serious. He nodded.
“I super will. Thank you, doctor.”
Chopper was so elated by the title that he practically floated away, Robin giving Franky a heart stopping grin over their shoulder as they left.
Franky continued to wave long after they exited the shop, so entangled with his own thoughts and hopes about love that he forgot about his own arm.
His pop was long past the point of drinkability, but at that moment, he didn’t need any outside substance to keep his heart racing.