Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

DAY ONE: MAKKARI

Makkari is thankful to have her job at the Eternal Coffee House. Not only does it help her pay off her student debt, but she gets to work alongside her best-friends, Sersi and Kingo. But, a well-known fact within the customer service field is having to deal with rude customers. Trying to tell a hysterical 40 year old woman that they can’t refund her almost-finished latte because she didn’t like the taste, and having to shut down another customer's negotiation attempts to lessen the price from ten dollars to four, all while plastering on a smile.

Makkari has to do all this without being able to hear their complaints. Sure, she can lips well, but sometimes they look away or talk so fast that even she can’t keep up.

So when a solemn-looking man with a bowl cut (how does he make it look so good?), clad in black walks in, she rolls back her shoulders and takes a deep breath. She makes sure her “Served by Deaf Barista” sign is by the register.

He walks in and stops in front of the register, scanning the menu above her head for his order. Once he seems to have found the drink he wants, he looks down at her and his sharp features seem to soften, as if he had just noticed her. He stays frozen like that, for the briefest moment, before he shakes his head slightly and coughs. He sees her sign by the register, and adjusts himself to make sure he’s fully facing her. Makkari clearly reads, cappuccino to go, please.

She smiles and nods her head eagerly, wanting to express her gratitude for his kind manners. She pulls up a notepad that has the words “anything else?” He shakes his head and takes his wallet out. That’s when Makkari notices his leather jacket. She quickly flips to the next page on her notepad, and writes I like your jacket!. By the time he looks back up, she’s already holding it out in front of her. She smiles fondly, thinking back to all the times Sersi and Kingo have been freaked out by how fast she could be sometimes.

He looks at it, a little startled that she’s showing him something. As he reads it, Makkari swears his eyes light up for a second.

“Thank you,” he says. “What’s the sign for 'jacket'?”

Makkari’s smile widens. She turns her head to the side to see if there’s anyone behind him in the line, and there’s no one. They have a bit of time. She places both hands near her shoulders, and moves both hands downwards and inwards, as if pulling on a jacket. He repeats the motion once she’s done. When they make eye contact, the corners of his lips are curling up.

“What’s your name?” he asks. When she taps at her nametag clearly stating it, she earns a half-laugh from him. Immediately, the urge to make him fully smile or laugh fills her senses, but she calms herself down. She gives him a look of what do you mean, then?

“How to sign your name, I mean.” His demeanor is cocky, but his shy half-smile indicates otherwise.

Makkari’s heart bursts. And so, she shows him her name sign once. Then again, but this time slower. He studies her for a moment, then brings his dominant hand to his ear, and replicates it. Makkari writes wow, you catch on fast!

His smile grows just a bit more. “My name’s Druig.”

She immediately shapes her fingers to spell it out. She goes through it once, and then takes the time to show him each letter individually. While he takes a moment to practice it, Makkari moves quickly to brew his order. By the time she’s back, he’s on his phone, and his money is on the table.

She passes Druig his cup, and before he takes it he looks up at her and signs thank you. She beams at him and signs back, you’re welcome.

As she watches him walk out of the store she feels overjoyed, hoping to whoever’s up there that there’s a chance he might come back.

______________________________________

DAY ONE: DRUIG

Druig forces himself not to look back at the vision who just served him the cup he’s holding now. Only when he’s out of the store and sure there was no one around, did he let go of the restraint he had on his smile. His face burst into emotion, dimples and all.

All he knows is that he has to come back tomorrow.

And tomorrow couldn’t come faster.

Chapter Text

DAY TWO: MAKKARI

“C’mon! What did he look like?” Kingo signs and says at the same time. Him and Makkari are in the storage room of the cafe, at Sersi’s request. She said it was to “make sure there were enough pastries for the day,” but Makkari knows it was just so Kingo could pester information out of her.

Like any other guy, she signs as she rolls her eyes at him. She and Kingo had grown up together, with their mothers being married, and all. She was a year older than him, so their moms had begun teaching him sign language since before he could walk. She met Sersi when she had put out ASL tutoring flyers around campus as a way to get extra cash. She is grateful to have them both, even if she doesn’t feel like it at the moment.

“‘Kari, please!” He continues. “You blushed when you mentioned a certain customer to us! And you never blush.”

Shut up, she signs back, willing herself to not blush at both his comment and her mind re-playing yesterday’s events.

“Just give me one hint.” He finalizes his statement by giving her the biggest puppy eyes known to man.

Fine! She concedes. He has these… blue eyes. Piercing.

“Piercing, huh?” He ponders for a moment. “I’ll take it. You can go back now.”

Makkari smiles playfully at him and pats him on the shoulder as she walks past him. She heads towards the register, and sees Sersi already serving someone. She moves to stand by her, and ignores the teasing look Sersi throws her way as she passes her the next customer's order. While she makes it, she lets her mind drift to a “certain customer,” as Kingo put it. She wonders if he’ll come back. She puts the completed order on the counter, and feels her braids swing back as she turns to look at Sersi.

“I’ll never understand how you’re so good at this. You’ve got to be the fastest coffee maker in the world.” Sersi says, and Makkari grins.

Practice makes perfect, she signs as she gives her a mischievous look.

“Well, whatever, I’m g—” Makkari can’t see the rest of what she says, because her head turns and her hands fall as the door opens. Upon seeing who it is, Makkari has to immediately school her face in a nonchalant manner to uphold her dignity. But ever the empath, when Sersi looks at Makkari’s face she doesn’t even try to hold back her knowing smile. “What I was gonna say was, I’m gonna go… check on those pastries.”

Sersi opens the door to the backroom and almost bumps into Kingo. He freezes in his tracks and looks between the man who has now reached the register and Makkari. His eyes flit to both of them for a second, and his eyes widen in recognition. He starts signing and speaking frantically.

“Piercing! They’re piercing! Is that him, Makkari? Oh my God, is that him?” He tries to step forward, but Sersi immediately grabs ahold of his upper arm and drags him behind her as she walks to the storage room. Makkari mentally thanks her as she tries to ready herself to face the man in front of her. Druig, his name is Druig. As if she could have forgotten.

She finds him waiting patiently with his hands behind his back. He looks… nervous? It’s hard to tell, but for some reason Makkari notices his usual stoic persona is a little off today, having a sort of anxious air surrounding it. He looks into her eyes for a moment too long, then shakes his head and takes a deep breath, as if to steady himself.

Goodmorning, he signs in careful, practiced strokes. Another cappuccino, please.

Makkari’s face splits into a wide, open-mouthed smile. She stands there, stunned for a moment. Her mind is too busy racing to write his order down, or even fully process it. Did he look up how to sign his order? Yes, he totally did. Against her will, Makkari’s mind quickly conjures up images of Druig sitting down and searching the signs up, practicing in the mirror until he gets it right. She blinks once. Then twice.

He’s standing there expectantly, lips quirked, clearly pleased with the reaction he’s getting. So, Makkari closes her mouth.

Coming right up, she writes in her notepad, and passes it to him. He gives her a thumbs up, and gets his wallet out. As she finishes writing down his order, she’s about to ask him if it’s for here or to go. Hoping that it’s for here, and trying to not blush at the thought of her wanting him to say it’s for here, someone hurriedly places a hand on her shoulder. On both Sersi’s lips and hands, Makkari reads: I’m so sorry, I tried to hold him off as long as I could.

Immediately, Makkari feels a familiar presence behind her, followed by a familiar arm slung around her shoulders. As Sersi grabs Druig’s order and scampers off in a mixture of shame and amusement to fulfill it, Makarri sees Druig stiffen up. His shoulders square, and the eyes that had looked softly at her just moments ago are now hard.

Kingo is talking to him, but she’s being held at an angle where she can't read them. She flicks her eyes back to Druig, panicking and trying to get any hint of what he said to him.

“I met her yesterday, actually,” she reads. Her mind scrambles to fill in the question, and knowing Kingo it was probably something along the lines of “so how do you know our dear Makkari?”

She sees something flash in Druig’s eyes. It was there one moment, and then it was gone, but… had she imaged it? Was that… jealousy? Even though she won’t allow herself to believe it, she can feel a blush creeping up her neck.

_______________________________________

DAY TWO: DRUIG

Druig tries to get ahold of his sanity, watching the beautiful barista blushing under the arm of another man. He reminds himself that they just met, and he doesn’t have any right to get jealous over that. Jealous? He’s not jealous. He’s too mature for that. His jaw definitely doesn’t clench as he watches the man squeeze her tighter.

Makkari elbows the man in his side, and makes a shooing motion. They converse in sign language, but Druig isn’t that far in his studies to understand what they are saying yet. He had just started yesterday, a spur of motivation flaring in his stomach as he stayed up all night watching YouTube videos and taking notes.

So, whatever. It’s not like his heart felt like it had been stabbed clean through when Druig saw the affectionate eyes behind the pissed-off face Makkari was giving the man. And it’s not like it resurrected and skipped a beat when she turned back to face him.

She gave him an exasperated smile, as if to say she’s sorry. He knows that if he doesn’t ask now, he’ll never find out, and if he never finds out, he’ll never take a chance to be with the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. So, he spits it out:

“That’s your boyfriend?” He asks, trying to seem casual about it. Makkari gives him a bewildered look and lets out a laugh. She grabs her notepad and starts scribbling quickly, as if she couldn’t clear this up faster, and holds it out for him. He reads: No! He’s my brother. That would be incest, Druig.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Brother, huh? They don’t look alike, but who was he to question someone’s family? And he felt like Makkari wouldn’t lie to him. In his relief, he didn’t allow himself to be caught up in how pretty his name looked in her handwriting.

“Oh, okay,” he says, making sure that she can see his lips. She smiles brightly at him for a second, until her co-worker passes her his coffee. He swears he sees her co-worker wink at her before she heads toward the backroom. Makkari then passes him his order, and he responds with the same sign he had hurriedly looked up yesterday, in this same spot. Thank you, he signs.

Or so he thought. Makarri erupts in laughter before him once again, and he finds himself almost laughing along too. He settles for trying to hide his smile by taking a sip of his coffee, but every aspect of her is just so contagious. When she calms down, he lowers his cup.

“What’s so funny?”

You just cussed at me, she writes with a barely-contained smile. He feels a slight heat rush to his cheeks. Oh, God.

“What? What did I say?”

She gives him the middle finger, and gestures toward it with her other hand. He tries to not be mesmerized by the amused look in her eyes. She hurriedly puts it down, obviously hoping no one else saw.

“How do I say ‘thank you’ then?”

Same motion, but your hand is higher up, she writes. Druig nods, and he repeats the motion, placing his fingers higher this time instead. He can tell he did something wrong again, because Makkari’s taunting behavior is immediately overcome by her slightly widened eyes and slightly reddened cheeks.

“What did I say this time?” Druig asks tentatively.

You just blew me a kiss.

Oh. Oh.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Druig replies shyly, feeling the blood rush to his face and reaching to scratch the back of his head. He pauses mid-air. Why is he acting so flustered? No one ever broke through Druig’s cold demeanor, and he made sure of that. What kind of effect is this girl having on him? He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, and ignores the thump, thump, thump of his heart.

He hears the door open behind him. His mind is torn between being relieved because he didn’t know what he was going to say next, or being upset because his time with her is over. He settles for somewhere in the middle, gives her a kind nod, and walks over to the seating area.

He can feel her gaze lingering on him for a beat longer, and when he turns to sit down, she's beaming at him. All his worries about their previous conversation suddenly evaporate. Before the next customer can reach the register, Druig decides to make a move before he can change his mind.

He holds up his middle finger, giving her a sly look and tilting his chin up.

She sneakily returns it, also tilting her chin up with a smug smile on her face, returning his challenge.

They have an inside joke, now. Who would've thought?

Chapter Text

DAY THREE: MAKKARI

Usually Makkari loved her days off. She got to stay home, read, catch up on any work, and even occasionally go out to shop. Now, walking through the market she frequents and admiring the liveliness of the people around her, she can’t help but feel a bit… off.

She finds herself missing a pair of blue eyes, accompanied by a pair of steady hands.

As she passes a store offering salt lamps, she feels her phone vibrate from her back pocket. She pulls it out to see Kingo is spamming the Barista Buddies group chat, (affectionately named by Sersi).

Kingo: CODE RED CODE RED

Kingo: MAKKARI YOUR LOVERBOY IS HERE

Kingo: SERSI IS SERVING HIM RIGHT NOW AS WE SPEAK

Kingo: HE LOOKS SO DEPRESSED HELPPP

Kingo: HE PROBABLY THOUGHT U WOULD BE HERE

Makkari’s heart stutters.

Kingo: should i tell him ur on a date with someone rn

Kingo: i’m gonna do it

Makkari starts frantically writing a response:

Makkari: DON’T

Makkari: kingo don’t do it

Makkari: i’ll tell moms that u were the one who broke their precious merlot bottle

Sersi: can u guys stop spamming the chat for the love of god

Sersi: he asked for his cup to go but i’m making it for here so kari u better get ur ass over here FAST

At that, Makkari locks her phone and slips it into her back pocket. Thanking her younger self’s passion for track and cross country, she speeds over to her bike and pedals faster than she thinks she ever has before.

She makes it there in record time, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. She almost bursts in, but realizes she doesn’t want to make a scene, so she takes a deep breath before opening the door. She enters, and her eyes immediately scan for a man with a bowl cut, no doubt covered in black.

And there he is, wearing a black Henley and sullenly sipping his coffee.

Surrounded by girls.

He's sitting at a booth, obviously closed off from whatever is happening around him. The nearer Makkari gets, the clearer their body language becomes. While Druig is simply staring ahead, the four girls around him are trying to get him to engage in their conversation. One has her arm draped across the booth’s wall directly behind him, and another is going as far as to lean over the table in an effort to get closer to him.

Makkari sees his lips move in curt responses, and can feel the aggravated energy radiating off him, but it seems the girls don’t. She makes her way behind the register, and pulls Sersi aside.

What are they saying? she asks. Sersi looks over to them and furrows her brow.

They're asking him what he’s doing here and if he was at their party last week. They keep complimenting him on his hair, muscles and all that. Earlier the girl leaning on his table made a move to feel his arm, but he flinched away. They don’t seem to have caught on and keep trying to get him to talk to them, Sersi summarizes. Kingo sees her and hurries over.

It cannot be more clear that he is so uninterested, he comments. Then, with a mischievous look on his face, he adds: Because the apple of his eye is you.

Makkari snorts at that and swats his hands away. Should she go over and help him? How could she? What if this is some game he’s playing, playing hard to get for these girls?

No, she doesn’t feel like he would do that.

As if hearing her internal dilemma, both Sersi and Kingo start pushing her in his direction.

Go save the poor guy, Sersi insists.

And give him a kiss while you’re at it, Kingo puckers his lips and raises his eyebrows twice.

Makkari rolls her eyes, but embarks on her mission. What should she do? It’s not like she can tell them to go away. Maybe she can give them a good, intense stare. The one Kingo made her practice to scare off bullies as a kid. But if she glared at them, wouldn’t that be awkward? Couldn’t they just laugh it off?

Her time for deliberating her next move is cut short, because she’s already standing a few inches behind the girl farthest away from Druig. She’s about to tap her on the shoulder, with no plan in mind, when Druig notices her. His eyes immediately light up, and his lips quirk. For a moment, the girl in front of her thinks the look is meant for her, but her expression turns sour when he gets up and brushes past her.

Druig is now standing at Makkari’s side, and she’s wondering if she should do anything. She feels warmth drape across her shoulders, and she realizes Druig has his arm around her.

Druig has his arm around her.

________________________________________

DAY THREE: DRUIG

Makkari looks up at him with the prettiest surprised look that he has ever seen. He would be trying to savor it, if he wasn’t currently trying to shoo off a horde of women. Did they have no social perception? He couldn’t have made it more obvious that he was indifferent to them.

Besides, the person he had come looking for is now snug under his arm, and it’s taking everything in him to not express the euphoric state he’s in. He wasn’t going to give these girls the satisfaction of seeing him smile. That look was reserved for one person, and one person only.

But, facing these girls, Druig realises that he doesn’t have a plan any further than this. Maybe he got so caught up in the opportunity of touching Makkari, his brain seemed to stop functioning beyond that point, having reached his goal. And so, feeling a bit of pressure, he says the first thing that comes to mind:

“My girlfriend’s here, so you can stop bothering me now,” he says, making sure he meets each of their gazes with the coldest look he can manage. Each girl’s jaw drops at varying measurements. The girl who was leaning over the table steps forward, and Druig suddenly feels wildly protective of Makkari. Sure enough, she stops in front of her.

“Really?” She asks, extending her hand out as if to touch her. “Her—”

She doesn’t get the chance to finish, because the hand that was reaching towards Makkari is swiftly grabbed. Makkari has her fingers around the girl’s wrist, and shoves it away with a bored expression on her face.

Is it too early for Druig to think he's in love?

Makkari looks the girl up and down, and as if deciding she isn’t worth her time, she grabs Druig’s hand and leads him to a separate seating section. When she lets go of it, he has to tell himself he does not already miss the feel of her hand in his. Sitting across from each other at another booth, they watch the girls trail out of the store one by one.

Druig feels a surge of pride when he sees the girl pathetically massaging her wrist, pouting. He turns to Makkari. She starts signing, but then thinks better of it and starts getting up, presumably to go get a pen and paper.

“No, no,” he waves his hand to get her attention. He pulls out his own notepad, brought specifically for this reason. He passes it to her along with a pen, and she starts scribbling away. Druig notices how effortlessly straight her posture is, as if she was royalty in another life.

She taps the table, trying to pull him out of his thoughts. He reads, I didn’t even grab her that hard.

To this, he lets out a laugh. Her lips curl up in response. She starts writing again.

What did you even tell them, anyway?

Druig’s laugh subsides, and he finds himself feeling sheepish.

“I… I told them you were my girlfriend,” he states, maintaining eye contact. Her eyebrows raise and a light blush dusts her cheeks. “Just to… get them off my back.”

Oh, she writes.

Is that okay? he signs. Instantly, the all-nighters he pulled with cramped hands and headaches, from taking notes and being glued to his computer, are completely worth it. All for the smile plastered on Makkari’s face. She nods her head slowly, as if still reeling from the small phrase Druig just signed, and takes her fist to respond with, yes.

Druig lets out a sigh of relief. He was worried he had crossed some sort of boundary between… whatever this was. They both look to the side when one of Makkari’s co-workers brings over a frappuccino, topped with a mountain of whipped cream.

The girls converse for a few moments, and eventually Makkari begrudgingly signs thank you. The woman flicks Makkari's nose, and heads back behind the counter. Makkari goes to write something down in his notepad, but pauses. She looks up, and Druig doesn’t know if he can handle being this close to her intense, focused stare.

She points at him, and brings her hand to her ear, acting like she's on the phone. Phone! Druig hastily pulls his out. Why didn’t he think of this sooner? It would be so much easier than writing back and forth.

Upon seeing his phone, Makkari smiles. When he gives her a questioning look, she shakes her head and holds up her hand, telling him to wait. She grabs it, quickly types in her number, and sends herself a text. She bites her lip as she does all this, and Druig has to force himself to look away before she can notice.

She gives his phone back, and it dings in his hand. Of course your phone is black, he reads. He clicks on the number attached to the message, and saves it as a contact.

Druig: What’s that supposed to mean?

Makkari: it’s just so on brand for you. makes sense that everything you wear AND use is black

Druig: Oh, really? And what does your red phone say about you?

Makkari: that it’s my favourite color, obviously.

Makkari takes a sip from her mocha frappuccino and looks up at him, a twinkle in her eyes. His phone dings again, but it's not from her this time.

Phastos: Dude, where are you?? You were supposed to be at the library 15 mins ago.

Druig groans and inwardly curses at himself for choosing the worst time to be Phastos' partner on a stupid, mandatory engineering project. Makkari notices his frown and nudges his phone with hers.

Makkari: what's wrong?
Druig: I have to go. School thing.
Makkari: oh, okay. i can finish that drink for you if you'd like

Druig smirks at that.

Druig: I think you have enough already.

He chugs the rest of his coffee, and Makkari seems to take this as a challenge. She takes a big gulp of her drink, trying to show how not-full she is, but only succeeds in getting whipped cream on the corner of her mouth.

Druig suppresses the urge to kiss it away.

He settles for wiping it with his thumb, and he pops it in his mouth. He winks at her as he gets up, and she looks at him incredulously. She playfully rolls her eyes, and brings her hands up to sign.

Goodbye, Duig.

He makes sure to sign dramatically: Farewell, Makkari.

When he's out of the café and well on his way to the library, he receives another ding. It's from his favorite barista.

It's a picture of an empty frappuccino cup, accompanied by a middle finger.

He can't help the affectionate smile that consumes his face.

Chapter Text

DAY FOUR: MAKKARI

Makkari is having a bad day. Last night, she couldn't work up the courage to text Druig again, and this morning her alarm didn’t go off. She had to change her shirt twice because she got coffee on the first one, and toothpaste on the second. And to top it all off, neither Sersi nor Kingo could come to work today. Sersi is off visiting museums, and Kingo is at an audition. Sure, Makkari’s happy for them pursuing their passions, but not at the expense of leaving her in a busy cafe with a lazy co-worker.

Ikaris was never called in at work for this specific reason. He would either relentlessly flirt with Sersi, or go to the bathroom or storage room with no intention of coming back. That left Makkari, during rush hour, trying to fulfill the needs of too many people in too little time.

So when a certain customer enters the store, Makkari welcomes the brief feeling of thrill that overrides her stress for a moment.

Her eyes don’t spend a moment too long looking at his grey, sleeveless shirt. Or, more specifically, his arms.

He walks in, seems to notice how busy she is, and how long the line is, so he opts to stand near the seating section.

Makkari works through the next six customers (at a “freakishly fast pace” according to Kingo and Sersi’s usual comments), throwing a look at Druig’s leaning frame whenever she needs a surge of energy. When everyone’s drinks have been served and there’s no one else in line, Makkari gets to work on making a cappuccino.

Once she’s done, she walks over to Druig and holds it in front of him. He looks up in surprise, and one side of his mouth curves up. He signs thank you (properly this time), and she has to grab his hands to stop him from pulling out his wallet.

Her heart races at the warm feeling that runs from their point of contact through her veins.

On the house, she signs. Druig must get the gist of what she’s saying, because he thanks her again. Not sure of how much ASL he knows, Makkari tugs on his shirt with a quizzical look on her face. She figures he wouldn’t understand what she meant if she signed what’s up with the tank top?

Opposed to how she was feeling earlier, she’s suddenly so glad that Kingo isn’t here to tease her about this. With her hand so close to his bare skin, she would never live it down.

He gives her a small smile and pulls out his phone, with an already typed: Can we hangout for a bit?

She looks around to make sure no one is near the register, and nods. He lets her choose a corner booth that she can easily see the door from, and sits down in front of her. She pulls out her phone.

Makkari: so??
Druig: I had to prove to you not everything I wear is black
Druig: Also, I just came from the gym

Makkari fights hard at the blush that threatens her face from the image of him thinking of her while picking out this shirt to wear, and him actually working out in it. She pushes both thoughts away.

Druig: I was working out with my older sister, Thena.
Makkari: oh, nice! i didn’t know you had a sister
Druig: Yeah. I have an older sister, and a younger sibling. Their name is Sprite
Makkari: that’s cool! i just have kingo and our moms

Makkari looks up, and Druig is already gazing at her. It feels like they’ve already fallen into a routine of orbiting around each other.

“Where are the others?” he asks. She sends him a quick text summarizing how Sersi often loves visiting museums because she feels a connection to the old art and the ancient artifacts (not to mention how her boyfriend works at the one she’s visiting today), and how Kingo truly believes he will one day become a famous actor.

“Kingo, the movie star,” Druig states, half pensive and half taunting. Makkari can’t help but notice the way his lips move, and how different it looks from when Kingo gives himself that same title. She’s been noticing how different his words look, but has never gotten the chance to ask.

Makkari: do you have an accent?

Druig smirks. He tilts his chin down, nodding.

Makkari: what is it?

I’m from Ireland, he signs. Makkari’s eyes crinkle as she smiles at his hands. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over the way her stomach flutters everytime he signs something.

Makkari: say something for me in irish

He takes a deep breath and sets his phone down, so Makkari does the same. He meets her eyes, and holds them. Suddenly, the energy between them doesn’t feel the same as a minute ago. Looking into his eyes, the moment feels more intimate, more intense. Makkari is sure that if she had the will to tear her eyes away from his and look around, everyone else would have disappeared. She sinks into the moment, and grabs onto it with both hands.

Time is moving so impossibly slow, and Makkari is hyper-aware of everything going on around her. Druig bites the inside of his cheek in thought, and then decides what he’s going to say.

“Mo Makkari álainn, álainn,” he says softly, with meaning and a gentleness in his eyes. They both stay there, staring into each other, unable to move until Makkari realizes he said her name.

What does that mean? she asks, and he must read the question on her face because he smirks and looks away. Whatever spell was on them seems to have broken, but Makkari isn’t upset with the mood that replaces it.

She reaches over the table and tugs on his shirt for the second time that day. She doesn’t get distracted by the sight of his arms this time, because she’s too focused on her goal.

She gives him a pleading look, and he sheepishly turns away.

Makkari tosses him a half-smile, lips slightly parted, as she grabs her phone and sits back in her seat with a hmph.

Makkari: what does it mean???

Now that she’s not invading his personal space, his bashful manner has withdrawn, switched out for a cocky one. He gives her a smug look.

“I guess you’ll just have to learn Irish, then,” he shrugs. She gives him a good-humored, disbelieving look and stands up. She rushes over to his side and pokes him on the shoulder.

Tell me! she begs.

“Nope,” he replies, bringing up his hands to “lock” his lips for emphasis. Makkari notices the playful glint in his eye, and can’t help but smile. Sometimes it feels like that’s all she can do around him.

She blinks once and the humor in his eyes is gone. In fact, it seems as if his face is now devoid of all positive emotion, and Makkari wonders if she did something wrong. But his glare isn’t aimed at her.

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DAY FOUR: DRUIG

Behind Makkari, a man looms over her. He has a scraggly beard, and a drink clutched in his hand. His eyes dart to her as she turns around to face him. Druig has dealt with enough obnoxious, entitled people to know that this man falls into that category.

Noticing his disdainful look, Druig stands up behind Makkari to offer her support. Turns out he’s taller than the man, and Druig enjoys the brief flash of insecurity behind the man's eyes.

His focus turns back to Makkari.

“You. You’re the one who made this drink?” he demands, and Makkari nods. She scans every nearby surface for any piece of paper to write on, but the man has backed her and Druig into a corner. She seems less worried about the fact that the customer has trapped her, and more worried that there’s no accessible way for her to communicate with him.

She shifts to get her phone out, but Druig grabs her hand to stop her. He can already tell the man is upset with her. Makkari looks up at him, confused. What if he loses his temper and decides to take it out on your phone?, he tries to relay with his eyes. She seems to send a message back with her own, and as if he was suddenly granted the power to read minds, he knew what she just asked him to do.

She turns back to the man and starts signing. He looks at her with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

“Look, lady. I don’t have time for jokes right now,” he points an accusing finger at her. It’s a parallel of the scene from yesterday, but this time Makkari can’t physically defend herself or she’ll get fired. It’s Druig’s turn to stand up for her.

He steps forward and places a warning hand on the man’s shoulder, pushing him back. Druig places himself in between the two, with his hands menacingly folded in front of him, to allow Makkari her space. He can practically feel the gratitude radiating off of her.

“She’s deaf, didn’t you see the sign?” he asks in a condescending tone. He hopes he didn’t misunderstand Makkari’s earlier message when he says: “I’m her interpreter.”

He feels a light touch of her hand to the back of his shoulder, where the customer can’t see. Reassurance. Confirmation.

The man looks between the two suspiciously. “Alright then. Tell her—”

“Actually you can tell her,” Druig interrupts. “She’s perfectly fine with reading lips.”

“Fine,” he spits out. “I asked for whipped cream on this.”

“Don’t look at me,” Druig instructs. “Be respectful. Look at her.”

The man reluctantly obliges, with a dramatic sigh.

Makkari starts signing, so Druig puts his mind to work. If he were a barista, what would he say? Scratch that— what would Makkari say as a barista? He looks at her signs, faking his attention as his brain grasps for any sort of politeness he can offer this man who doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t want to get Makkari fired, after all. Once she’s done, the man is looking expectantly at him. Druig clears his throat, and Makkari throws him an encouraging look.

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, sir,” Druig all but cringes through his teeth. “It’s been a really busy day and I’ve been flooded with orders, so that request must have gotten lost somewhere along the way.”

A genuine smile slips through Makkari’s professional mask, and Druig has to remind himself that someone else is present in order to not melt under it. Under the fact that it’s just for him. It makes all the fake pleasantries coming out of his mouth worth it.

“Yeah, well—” the man says, facing Druig. Druig tsks and nods his head towards Makkari. The man grumbles under his breath, aggravated. He turns to Makkari and gives her a patronizing look.

“I wanted whipped cream on this. I deserve a refund.”

More signs from Makkari, more improvising on Druig’s part.

“I’m so sorry sir, but you’ve already drunk half the drink. I am more than happy to add some now, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to refund you for anything.” Druig mentally pats himself on the back for not sneering.

“Look, lady. It’s simple. I wanted whipped cream. I asked for whipped cream. I didn’t get whipped cream. So now, I want my money back. Are you that stupid?” He looks at and speaks to her as if she’s a child, and Druig’s blood curdles.

He goes to take a step forward, but Makkari’s hand wraps around his wrist. He looks back at her, and she gives him the slightest shake of her head. Even though Druig’s fist is already clenching, and the only thing on his mind is making this man hurt, he stops. If Makkari asked him to do or not to do something, he would listen. He suddenly comes to the realization that that extended for anything, punching related or not.

So, he takes a deep breath and Makkari gives his wrist a gentle squeeze before she goes back to signing. As Druig is in the middle of calming himself down and trying to think of a response, he notices a certain gesture.

A certain gesture he once accidentally used.

Now, actually paying attention to what Makkari is saying, he recognizes a few things. Namely, a few cuss words. Although she’s signing politely with a smile on her face, the videos on how to sign cusses Druig has binged show him what she’s really saying.

Makkari's cursing the guy out. She's retaliating in her own, clever, let's-not-get-fired way.

Druig grins at the realization, and almost lets out a laugh. Once she stops, she winks at Druig and he tells himself he doesn’t have time to swoon.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience sir, but it’s against store policy to refund any drink that has been more than half-way drunk,” Druig replies, having no idea if it’s true. “So unless your drink was made in such a way that you had a severe allergic reaction, I’m going to have to ask you to either go back to your seat or leave the store.”

The man looks from Druig to Makkari, and sputters.

“What? You can’t do that!” He points a finger at Makkari, again. Druig steps closer, and this time Makkari lets him.

“Do you really want to argue with her right now?” Druig asks, and the man gets the implied message because he looks down at Druig’s now folded arms. He grinds his teeth, as if weighing his odds, and after a moment he finally swallows.

“No.” He mutters, defeated. He glances at Makkari one last time, and walks away in frustration. Druig and Makkari both watch as he practically stomps out of the store.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, Makkari throws her arms around Druig. In her embrace, he can feel the heat crawl up his neck and towards his face. When she finally releases him, awe is painted all over her face.

Thank you, thank you, thank you! she signs excitedly. You did amazing!

“Thank you,” he smiles coyly, and he regains his composure. “It was nothing. Plus, what you did was even cooler.”

She blushes, but her eyes quickly take on a more serious tone.

No, really. Thank you, Druig, she signs, finalizing the statement with an unfamiliar sign at the end. She mouthed his name when she did it, so…

“Did you just give me a name sign?” he asks breathily. A smile splits his face.

Yes, she answers, and repeats the motion. She brings her hand to the side of her eye, four fingers flat across her thumb. Then, she extends them, almost like a flower blooming. Druig doesn’t think his name has ever looked better. Because you’re so smart, and you can understand me even when you can’t… if that makes sense.

Druig nods. He smiles so hard he can feel the indent his dimple is leaving on his cheek. Her face mirrors his joy. He wants to capture this moment, and somehow frame his name-sign. He wants it plastered on every wall.

He’s about to lean in—to either say something or do something, he hasn’t decided yet—when the door opens. Makkari’s eyes dart to the new customer, and she gives him an apologetic look.

Go, he signs, nodding towards the register. I have to go, too, anyway.

She beams at him, and Druig is tempted to wrap his arms around her, to keep her from leaving him. He tosses that feeling aside as she affectionately squeezes his shoulder before returning to her station.

Once she’s behind the counter she signs, Goodbye, Druig.

Goodbye, he replies. But, as much as he wants to, he doesn’t dare sign the words he said earlier:

My beautiful, beautiful Makkari.

Chapter Text

DAY FIVE: MAKKARI

Makkari read somewhere that it takes 30 days to form a habit, but it seems as if it only took five for her. While serving her seventh customer of the day his drink, her eyes are already searching for a man with signature bangs.

It’s gotten so bad, everytime she notices the front door opening, her head snaps to see who’s entering. She doesn’t know at what point her focus started to shift to him every time she has a free moment to think, but she also doesn’t remember a time when it didn’t.

Sersi and Kingo have been teasing her relentlessly over it.

She has nothing left to lose, so when Druig finally steps into the cafe, she doesn’t even try to hide her excitement. She hasn’t taken her eyes off him, but she knows that somewhere off to her side, Kingo and Sersi are giving each other an amused look.

She doesn’t care. He’s here! He’s here with… someone else?

As Druig walks in, hands in his pockets, another man trails behind him. He looks a bit more timid, more skeptical in a way, as if he’s looking for something. The deep blue shirt he’s wearing heavily compliments his dark skin. He follows Druig to the register.

Goodmorning, he signs, clearly in a bad mood. Two cappuccinos, please.

The man next to him stares at Druig’s hands, shocked.

Who’s this? Makkari asks.

A… Druig pauses, like he’s unsure of how to describe the man next to him. Friend. He’s a friend, I guess.

His friend keeps turning back and forth, looking between Druig and Makkari, unsure of who to focus on. He decides on Druig.

“When did you learn sign language?” He asks in disbelief. “Is this what you’ve been staying up late for?”

Druig panics and tries to both shove and move in front of his friend to block what he’s saying from Makkari, but it’s too late. She’s already tightening her mouth to try and contain her smile. Druig notices, and the corner of his lips curl up in the slightest way. The man beside him sees this and his jaw drops.

“Are you smiling? What’s up with you, man? Are you okay? Do you have a fever?” he asks as he hurriedly places the back of his palm on his forehead, but Druig swats it away, annoyed.

“I’m fine,” he huffs. He passes Makkari the exact amount of money for their order and walks over to a booth against the store’s wall. His friend pauses for a moment, looking dumbfoundedly at Makkari, still processing what just happened.

When she gives him a small smile and a wave, he seems to snap out of it and briefly wave back before he walks over to sit across from Druig. Makkari feels a warm hand on her shoulder, and turns to see Sersi.

“You can go give them their drinks, I can handle the next few customers,” she offers, and moves her aside to start on the next person. Makkari gives her a pat on the back as a thanks, and brews two cappuccinos.

She walks over to their table, and sets both cups down. The man, seemingly always in a state of disbelief, looks at the cup placed in front of Druig. He gives him a confused glance.

“Don’t you hat—” he starts, but he suddenly lets out a grunt of pain. Makkari whirls to face an innocent looking Druig, and lightly punches him in the shoulder.

Don’t kick your friend! she signs, and Druig reacts with a playful smirk.

He deserved it, he replies, and Makkari tsks.

That reminds me, what did you say yesterday? she asks. It had been gnawing at her, eating her up last night. Her mind kept replaying how soft his eyes had looked, how much significance they had held. How much emotion.

And it had something to do with her name.

I don’t remember, he smirks, shrugging one shoulder. Makkari pokes him and tugs on the sleeve of his shirt.

Yes you do! Just tell me!

Never, a warm, slight blush settles itself on his cheeks. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she can see his friend shift a bit in his seat and she catches a bit of his lips moving. Druig’s expression turns somber, irritated. Not even embarrassed at his friend catching him in such a vulnerable state, just upset that he interrupted it.

Makkari’s heart beats a little faster at that realization.

She turns to his friend.

“So, what is this? Is this new?” he asks, as Druig tugs on her sleeve. She faces him again.

This is Phastos, he clarifies for her. She nods.

Hi, Phastos. I’m Makkari, she introduces herself, knowing Druig will translate for her.

“Hi, Makkari,” he says hesitantly. “Is he always like this?”

She shrugs, a smile forming and heat gathering in her face.

“I’m just confused…” Phastos shakes his head, as if trying and failing to comprehend the scene before him. “I’ve known Druig for four years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Or be happy. Or even feel any emotion other than annoyance or hatred.”

Really? Makkari signs in disbelief, and spins to look at Druig incredulously. Her eyes drink up his bashful, pink look and he ducks his head to try and hide it.

“I am… so lost right now,” Phastos says, stunned. He starts looking around, feeling the space around him and pinching himself. “I am in Hell? Did I die?”

No, Makkari signs helplessly, shaking her head. She smiles at him and then at Druig.

Her heart is beating so fast and so hard, she worries it might burst. He isn’t normally like this? With anyone? So, was this a side of himself he’s only shown her? Makkari takes a deep breath to calm herself down, because she can’t jump to conclusions… can she? From what she could tell, whenever he’s interacted with anyone else, he's always turned cold and disconnected. But with her…

With her, he never fails to ignite the butterflies in her stomach. She’s earned countless easy smiles and laughs from him in just the past five days, and she’s just met him. Is it crazy to think that this is some sort of attitude he reserves just for her?

Her mind, swirling with thoughts, is interrupted as Druig tugs on her sleeve again. Makkari tries not to think about how affectionate the gesture feels. They’ve gotten so used to always touching each other in some way.

“I think if you get Phastos something to distract him with, he’ll calm down quicker,” he suggests. “Or he'll at least make less of a scene. So can I order a slice of cake?”

Makkari nods and smiles eagerly at him. Then his attention shifts from her eyes, to a table close by them. There’s a man that’s trying to wave her down, calling her closer.

He has short, wavy hair and an air of self importance around him. She nods at Druig again, and heads over.

“Hello, darling,” he greets, and Makkari internally cringes. They are positioned in such a way that she can see Druig sitting at his booth behind the man, and she can see the way his eyes flash with something in them again. This time, she’s too far away to decipher it.

Makkari gives the customer a practiced smile in response, hands clasped in front of her. She realizes she has her notepad and pen in the pocket of her barista apron, so she takes them out. She doesn’t want to put the burden of improvising a translation on Druig again, and this situation isn’t nearly as tense as the one from yesterday.

“Do you guys serve sandwiches?” he asks, and Makkari nods. She can tell he has an accent, but she’s not intrigued by it the way she is with Druig’s. “Wonderful! I’ll have the simple grilled ham and cheese, then. My name’s Eros, by the way. In case you needed it for the order.”

He winks at the end of his sentence, as if she would need or want his name for anything else. She forces her lips to turn up, and writes: Anything else?

Seeing the way he noticeably eyes Makkari up and down, she immediately regrets asking. She can see his tongue press against his cheek as he meets her eyes again.

“A piece of you,” he suggests, going for a flirtatious tone. She fights hard at the urge to roll her eyes at him, but since comments like these aren’t uncommon at her job, she’s well-trained on how to react. Usually, she and Sersi blow it off and laugh about it once they have a moment to spare.

But for some reason, she instinctively looks up at Druig. He’s staring directly at Eros with a murderous look on his face, and his fists clenching. Makkari’s pulse races at the sight and she can feel her blush grow so big that even her ears heat up a bit.

_________________________________

DAY FIVE: DRUIG

Makkari blushing is a sight that Druig is always happy to see. Especially if he’s the cause, but this time it seems as if it's directed towards someone else. He realizes his knuckles are turning white so he releases them from the tight position they were in.

“Dude… are you okay?” Phastos asks. “Like seriously, what’s up with you?”

“I already told you,” Druig grumbles, already out of patience. “I’m fine, Phastos.”

“So… from what I gather she’s the one who’s been distracting you lately?”

“What?” His gaze momentarily moves from Makkari walking towards the counter, to the man in front of him.

“Oh, c’mon, man. While you’re usually on top of all your studies, you’ve been falling behind lately. Even though I see you taking notes all the time. And it’s so obvious you’ve been acting differently. Like you’re more relaxed. The other day, when Dane bumped into you in the halls you just nodded at him and kept walking. No icy glare or menacing look. We both stood there in shock.”

Druig takes a moment to process this. It’s true that he’s felt a little different these past few days, but he didn’t know he had been outwardly expressing it.

It’s almost as if Makkari’s light has rubbed off on him. Like she has unknowingly lifted an invisible weight off his shoulders, just by being herself.

He feels a sudden presence above him, but he somehow knows it’s not Makkari. It’s the guy who was flirting with her earlier, Eros.

He looks down at Druig and taps his fingers on the table absentmindedly. He blows out a breath.

“So… that barista, huh?” he remarks, and Druig wonders how much time he’ll spend in jail if he punches him.

“What about her?” Druig mutters. He’s in the perfect position for an uppercut, but he doesn’t let himself dwell too long on that thought.

“I saw her acting friendly over here earlier so I have to make sure, is she yours?” he has the audacity to ask.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“Oh! So you’re not together?”

“No, and even if we were, I wouldn’t own her.” Druig clarifies, his chest tightening with anger. Phastos shoots him a warning glance.

“Well. I guess she’s coming home with me today, then.” His lips form into a self-satisfied smirk.

She’s off-limits, Druig thinks, and almost says, but who is he to feel possessive over her? After all, he's only known her for five days. Even if it feels like they've known each other for longer, much longer.

Apparently that thought isn’t enough to stop him, because he finds himself getting to his feet. But before he has the chance to complete his action, a gentle hand brushes his shoulder, and a figure swoops in between the two men.

Makkari puts down a slice of cake on the table, and passes it to a frozen Phastos. She turns to Eros, and shoves a sandwich his way.

“Thank you, doll,” he says, and Makkari discreetly reaches her foot backwards to tap Druig’s. The gesture warms him, anchors him. He sits back down.

Either oblivious or uncaring to Druig’s previous aggressive stance, Eros asks, “when’s your break, babe?”

Makkari looks at the clock and grabs her notepad. Behind her, before she shows it to Eros, Druig can see the words: Right now. Go to your table, I’ll go put my apron away.

Eros nods, and Makkari walks away. Before turning around and following her orders, Eros gives Druig a wink. Phastos must sense the violent scenes Druig is playing out in his head, because he passes him his carrot cake.

In order to stop his hands from doing worse to the man sitting a few feet from them, Druig takes the fork and shoves it into the slice.

A moment later he sees Makkari walking towards the seating section without her apron, and her notepad in hand. She’s taking a path right in the middle of his and Eros’ table, but Druig doesn’t doubt her. Even if for some reason she ended up sitting at the other table, he wouldn’t be upset with her. Just with Eros and his behavior. But, again, Druig doesn’t doubt her.

When she gets to a point where she must face one table or the other in order to walk towards it, she faces Eros’. She pauses, looks him up and down, and gives him a smile.

Then she’s sitting next to Druig. In the blink of an eye, she grabs his arm, places it around her shoulders, and steals the fork out of his other hand. She smiles daintily as she eats the bite meant for Druig, and gives the fork back.

Eros gawks at her, and takes a frustrated bite out of his sandwich. Both Druig and Phastos just gape at her. She scribbles in her notepad.

What? I never said I would spend it with him.

After a beat, Druig laughs. He laughs whole-heartedly and his hold around Makkari’s shoulders involuntarily tightens in the slightest way. When he looks down at her, she’s giving him a deep, genuine smile.

He’s about to lean in—for the second time this week—when Phastos gasps abruptly. Druig looks up at him, and he’s looking at his phone.

“I have to tell Thena about this!” he exclaims, and Druig’s eyes widen.

“Don’t,” Druig states, but he can already see Phastos’ fingers flying across his phone’s keyboard.

“Okay, hold on. I gotta take this,” Phastos says as his phone starts ringing, and he slides out of their booth. “This is, uh… totally not Thena related.”

“Oh, God,” Druig mutters, and slouches in his seat a bit. Once Phastos is gone, Makkari turns to face him fully.

What was that about? she asks. He bites his lip as he realizes what’s most likely about to happen.

“Phastos is telling my sister about you.”

What about me? she signs, and he doesn’t know how to tell her that Phastos probably realized Druig’s feelings before he built up the courage to actually face them himself.

So he doesn’t.

“He just went out to talk to someone on the phone, and it was 100% Thena. And if Thena called him, that means that she’s asking for directions to the shop right now. So that means… She's on her way here. Right now.”

Makkari’s face is blank as she processes what he just said.

Oh, she signs. But then her head shakes slightly, and it’s like her face restarts. She now wears a mischievous smile. In the meantime, you can tell me what you said yesterday.

“You really won’t let this go, will you?”

Nope.

“But I don’t know how to sign it yet,” Druig completely lies, as if it wasn’t one of the first things he had taught himself.

Then just say it!

“What if someone overhears?” He counters. She rolls her eyes at him.

Then just write it down, she taps at her notepad.

“What if someone else reads it?”

I’ll burn it right after.

“That would be creating a fire hazard, and putting your customers at risk," he argues. He scratches his chin dramatically, faking a state of wisdom. "But then you could drag me down as an accomplice, tell the police I forced you to burn it in order to keep our secret..."

I won’t tell if you won’t tell, Makkari raises an eyebrow.

“...Deal,” Druig finally concedes. What’s the harm in telling her now? It feels like he’s just been waiting for the right moment, but every moment with Makkari feels like the right one. Makkari smugly tilts her head up, much like he did after he gave her the middle finger a few days prior. He tilts his chin up as well, in response.

After a moment of just looking at each other, he reaches for her notepad. Makkari eagerly looks over his shoulder, and he adores the way her cheek is resting on his shoulder.

But, as fate would have it, as soon as the pen touches the paper, a loud, drawn out noise comes from the street outside the store. He glances out the window, and he can see a motorcycle being smoothly parked.

Oh God, he thinks. She’s here.

Makkari notices his focus is elsewhere now, so she follows his gaze. A tall woman dismounts from the motorcycle, blonde hair—that was somehow not at all affected by the drive—cascading down her shoulders. Even Druig has to begrudgingly admit that she has some sort of ethereal glow about her. Makkari's jaw drops and her eyes widen.

Thena tends to have that sort of effect on people.

Makkari keeps her eyes trained on her as she struts to the entrance, and walks in with Phastos. Thena scans the area, and zeroes in on him and Makkari.

Makkari’s already straight posture goes rigid as Thena steps towards her.

Thena seems to catch Eros’ attention as well, because his eyes follow her movements. Uncharacteristically nervous, Makkari folds her hands under the table.

Before he can question himself, Druig’s hand finds Makkari’s. He intertwines their fingers, and her posture seems to relax. She takes a deep breath, and meets his eyes for the briefest moment. Druig can read gratitude all over them.

Then she turns, and watches Thena gracefully stride over to them. She sits down across from them, not waiting for an invitation.

Makkari tightens her hold on Druig’s hand, but her face and body language show she's confident.

“Hello,” Thena greets, and Makkari waves back in response. “What relationship do you have with my brother?”

Druig coughs in surprise. “Straight to the point then, Thena?”

“Of course. Gil is trying out a new pie recipe at home, and I’m not about to miss it,” she raises her brow and cocks her head, implying that it's obvious.

Your brother and I are friends, Makkari writes and passes to her.

“Oh, is that why you’re holding hands under the table?” She eyes the two of them. Makkari turns pink and Druig has to avert his eyes. But thankfully, neither retract their hands. Druig quickly switches to Irish, knowing that Thena will understand him but Makkari won’t.

“Please don’t mess this up, Thena. I’ve got something good here, so don’t try to rush it.”

Thena thinks this over for a moment, sucking on the inside of her cheek.

“Very well. I will leave now. Phastos, thank you for calling me.” She declares as she gets out from the booth, faster than she got into it. “Good luck, Dru.”

And with that, she exits the cafe and hops on her bike. Makkari faces Druig.

That was your sister? She’s stunning! she emphasizes with firm hand motions. And so badass.

“Yeah, I get that alot.” Druig half-laughs, relieved that nothing too drastic happened.

So that’s it? She just came in and left?

“Yeah. She’s very blunt like that, and she’s very impulsive. So I guess she wanted to drive down here real quick to see you for herself.”

Oh, Makkari nods. Well, I have to go now. Break time’s over.

“Oh, okay. That’s fine,” he looks over to where Phastos is now sitting, silently eating the last bit on their plate. “Looks like we’re done with the cake, so we’ll probably be going now, too.”

Makkair nods, and looks unsure of how to leave. She looks down at their still-clasped hands. Druig can feel himself blush slightly as he takes his away, using taking the plate as an excuse. He passes it to her, and she grins at him. He takes out his wallet, but she stops him.

That reminds me, she signs, and then starts to write on her notepad. Thank you for yesterday. The cake’s on the house.

“Thank you for the day before that. Saving me from all those girls,” he counters, and he puts the money down on the table. “That’s what we do. We have eachothers backs.”

Makkari blushes for the millionth time that day, but it still has the same effect on Druig.

“Okay, this is sweet guys, but we actually have to go, Druig. I will question you about this properly later.” Phastos interjects. Druig had almost forgotten he was there, as being with Makkari seems to make everyone else disappear.

“Yeah, yeah,” Druig grumbles, sliding out of his seat after Makkari. Phastos takes a look at both of them and sighs.

“I’ll be waiting outside. But be quick! We told Ben we’d help him out on his physics project, and I really want to impress him, man,” he pointedly looks at Makkari, and turns back to Druig. “You get it.”

“Okay, okay, I do get it. I’ll be right out.” Druigs says hastily as makes a shooing motion with his hands, and Phastos turns to leave.

She hurriedly takes out her phone and types. His phone buzzes a moment later.

Makkari: i still want to thank you for yesterday. it meant alot to me.
Druig: I already told you, it was nothing
Makkari: are you free tomorrow?

Druig tries to hide his growing smile. He tries to get back at her, because if he’s flustered, she has to be, too.

Druig: Are you asking me out?

His plan succeeds, as she ducks her head and swats him on the shoulder.

Makkari: shut up!!!!
Makkari: so is that a yes?
Druig: Yes, Makkari, of course I’ll go out on a date with you

She hits him a little harder this time, and his smile fully unfurls.

Makkari: i’ll text you the details tomorrow

And with that, she beams at him and turns to go back to work. Once he’s at the cafe’s entrance, he faces her again. They exchange goodbye signs, and her eyes scan the area before she flips him off. He shakes his head, smiling, and he returns it before he leaves the shop.

Walking to where Phastos is, there’s only one thought on his mind.

She never denied it was a date.

Chapter Text

DAY SIX: DRUIG

“So… someone’s finally caught your eye, huh? After so many have tried.” Gilgamesh sounds tinny over the phone’s speaker, but Druig still groans. Thena must have told him as soon as she got home yesterday. Those two gossip too much.

“I know you can’t see me, but I’m rolling my eyes right now.”

“Sure you are. I can literally feel your smile through the phone,” Gilgamesh counters, and Druig’s grin is immediately wiped off. He puts down the third pair of pants he’s tried on this morning, and brings out a fourth pair.

“Are you still deciding what to wear?” Gil asks.

“No.” Druig replies, but he does so as he pulls over the fifth shirt of the day. He looks at himself in the mirror, and unsatisfied, he peels the shirt off and throws it on the bed. He has no idea what to wear, but he’s not freaking out.

He is not freaking out.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Come over soon. I have—will have—news.”

“Okay,” Druig says, confused at his vagueness. “Depends on how long it’ll take. I have something to do later.”

“What? Is it a date with the mystery barista?” Gil laughs, and Druig fights his blush even though no one’s around to see. He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. He decides to let himself be excited, to become giddy at the thought instead of trying to deny it and downplay it like he has to himself all day. He smiles.

“Yes.”

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DAY SIX: MAKKARI

“So… tell me! What’s he like!?” Makkari’s mom, Ajak, enthusiastically signs and says over FaceTime. Stupid Kingo, he must have told their mom over their weekly ritual of dressing up and meeting in a fancy tea room. Those two gossip too much.

He’s a customer at the shop. He’s become a regular.

“Pssh, I know that! Kingo already told me! I want to hear from you.”

I was gonna tell you once I knew it was serious.

“Ooh, you seem definitive on the fact it’ll become serious.” Her mom comments, and Makkari fights the urge to close her eyes out of spite.

Shut up!

“If you’re not gonna say anything, at least give me his name,” she negotiates.

Fine, Makkari relents. His name is Druig.

At this, her mom’s eyes widen. Makkari realises instead of spelling out his name, she just naturally signed his name-sign.

“You gave him a name-sign!?” Her mom nearly shrieks in ecstasy. “He’s that important? Wow, Makkari! I have to meet him. Do you know where he works, or where he lives? I have to drop by real quick to make sure he’s worthy and—”

Makkari stops her by holding up her hand. Her mind is still reeling from having signed his name. When she explained it to Druig, she said it was because of how smart he was and how he effortlessly understood her. And sure, while those did play a part in the production process they weren’t the reasons the motion was centered at one’s temple.

But she would never tell him how pretty his eyes are, or how much she loves them.

She brings her thoughts back to the conversation.

Mama, he’s worthy of me, I swear.

Her mom leans back for a moment, studying her face. Her calmer, more serious side takes over, and her expression warms.

“Okay, mi vida. I trust you. I wish I were there so I could give you a big hug.”

No, it’s fine, Makkari gives her a genuine smile. I have to go now. I have to get ready for…

Makkari pauses, and her mom waits expectantly. Should Makkari call it a date? Is she allowed to? She so badly wants it to be, but she doesn’t want to get her hopes up.

But she remembers the way Druig slightly flushed when she asked him if he was free. She remembers all the casual touches, the signs he’s learned, the way he seems to soften around her. She remembers the pure joy she felt when he first came back to the coffee shop, and how that feeling hasn’t gone away since.

I have to get ready for a date, she finishes. Her mom’s eyes light up, but she visibly holds herself back from exploding into a fit of emotions.

“I am so happy you’re happy,” her mom gives her such a loving look that Makkari fears she might tear up. “And I can see it in your eyes how in love you are.”

Makkari opens her mouth to protest, but Ajak holds up her hand and continues.

“Or not, and that’s for you to decide. But I have to tell you, I’ve seen that look before.” She punctuates her sentence with one of her Wise Mom Looks. “I’ve seen it in your mom’s eyes, when we first started dating all those years ago… ah, young love.”

Makkari playfully rolls her eyes at her mother’s nostalgic sigh.

Yeah, yeah. Speaking of, tell Mom I said hi. I have to go now. I love you!

“Okay, I’ll tell her. I love you too,” her mom blows her a kiss and opts to just sign her final words. Good luck.

Her mom hangs up, and Makkari is now just sitting on her bed staring at her phone. She already has her outfit on, and everything ready, but she still has too much nervous energy. She looks at the time, at it’s about an hour before she has to meet Druig.

She planned for them to meet at her favorite park. It’s an open area with occasional wooden benches and tables, lined by trees. She’s already packed their food—a mix of store-bought and home-made—in a picnic basket, on top of a blanket. The late meeting time that Makkari chose had nothing to do with the fact of how pretty and clear the stars looked about an hour after.

And her racing, hopeful heart had nothing to do with the thought of them laying on the blanket, gazing at the night sky together.

But for right now, Makkari had an hour to kill.

Maybe heading over a bit early to set up wouldn’t be the worst idea, would it?

Before she can change her mind, she grabs her car keys.

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DAY SIX: DRUIG

Druig shuts his car door in front of Thena and Gilgamesh’s house. While being a renowned boxer and a famous ballerina could land you a luxurious home in a gated community, they preferred the solitude, so they chose a nice home away from the city. This is why Druig is a little cautious at the fact that there is another car parked in front.

Until he realizes it’s his sibling’s.

He knocks on the door, and it opens to an exasperated Sprite.

“He’s here!” They yell over their shoulder. They turn, not even bothering to greet Druig, and walk back into the living room. Druig follows them.

“Druig!” A pleased Gilgamesh says, getting up from the couch to give him a bear hug. In his tight embrace, over Gilgamesh’s shoulder, Druig spots Thena elegantly sipping wine. With a huge smile on her face.

Druig pulls away.

“What’s going on?” He asks suspiciously, taking a few steps back in case they’re pulling some sort of prank on him. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“You know how I told you I had news?” Gilgamesh reminds him.

“Yes.”

“Well…” He starts smiling, and seems to be smiling too hard to say anything further. Thena sighs dramatically and walks to stand beside him.

“Just out with it already,” she says, snaking her arm around Gilgamesh’s waist. “Gil proposed!”

Thena holds out her hand, showing him the ring, and Druig just stares back in response. He can hear Sprite gasp. After a moment, his jaw drops. He takes one step forward, and then another, and another until he’s directly in front of his sister and her boyfriend—no, fiancé.

“Fucking finally!” He breathes, and he wraps his arms around both of them, tighter than before.

-------------------------------------

DAY SIX: MAKKARI

The clouds are a pretty pink when Makkari walks over to one of the park’s picnic tables. She drapes a tablecloth over it, and starts setting up the food containers. Once she’s finished she rubs her hands together, admiring her work. Then, she feels her phone buzz in her pocket.

Druig: Where are you right now?
Makkari: i’m at the park i told you to meet me at. i came a little early
Druig: That’s perfect. Stay right where you are
Makkari: okay. what’s going on?
Druig: Just trust me

Makkari furrows her eyebrows in confusion, but nevertheless places her phone on the table and stays put.

She looks towards the sky, thinking of the night ahead. She can see two birds taking flight together. She smiles fondly.

She only has one person on her mind.

-------------------------------------

DAY SIX: DRUIG

Druig swerves in between cars, thanking Sprite repeatedly in his head for distracting Thena long enough to borrow her motorcycle.

Though he suspects that both she and Gilgamesh knew what he was doing, and who he was doing it for.

As he cuts in front of a car, he can see through their windshield that they’re giving him the middle finger.

He smiles, because he only has one person on his mind.

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DAY SIX: MAKKARI

Makkari’s been sitting at the table a little too long for her liking, so she starts tapping her fingers against the wood. Her nervous energy returns, and her knee starts bobbing up and down. She decides that looking at her surroundings will calm her down a bit, so she turns and surveys her area.

She sees friends throwing around a frisbee, a woman walking her dog, an elderly couple sitting at a farway bench, and…

Is that a motorcycle?

A man recklessly pulls into the parking lot and, completely unbothered by the way it’s not parked correctly at all, swings off of it. He pauses for a moment, scanning the scenery, and once he spots what he’s looking for he breaks out into a run.

Makkari could recognize those bangs and that leather jacket anywhere.

As she sits on the bench, she can feel her heart nearly jump out of her chest. The smile on his face and the dimple it creates leaves her too stunned to function, too stunned to move. She finally comes back to her senses when he reaches a point where he can’t run anymore, so he starts walking tiredly.

She hops off the bench and jogs to him, still in disbelief at the scene that just played out before her.

When she’s finally face to face with him, he grabs the sides of her arms, trying to steady himself. He must feel dizzy from riding the motorcycle and sprinting immediately after.

He looks into her eyes, and suddenly all her nervous energy evaporates, replaced by an electricity between them.

“They’re getting married!” He exclaims. Makkari gives him a confused look, prompting him to give her context.

“My sister and her boyfriend! They’re getting married!” He explains happily. “And don’t worry, I already gave him the hurt-her-and-I’ll-kill-you brother speech, but he’s like ten times stronger than me, so it probably wasn’t effective.”

You don’t give yourself enough credit, she signs in between his arms on her sides, and he must understand what she means because he laughs. She sweeps his bangs a little to the side so that they don’t cover his eyes as much, and lets her hand linger on his cheek. She gives him an adoring smile, and his grin somehow intensifies.

He leans into her touch, and their foreheads meet.

Makkari closes her eyes, savoring the moment, the contact. She’s close enough that she can feel his soft laugh, and that he’s saying something. She reluctantly pulls away to see.

Will you go to their wedding with me? he signs, and suddenly Makkari’s the dizzy one who needs support. She puts her hand on his shoulder to steady herself, and he puts his hand on her waist to help. This gesture leaves her with the opposite effect, having her heart and mind spin out of control.

Somehow, in her muddled state, she forms an idea.

On one condition, she signs with one hand, not quite ready to take her other from his shoulder yet. Tell me what you said the other day.

Druig laughs again, and his face is so full of emotion that his eyes are almost closed. He reaches into his pocket and holds something in his fist. He looks at it for a moment, and then looks up at her again.

“I asked Phastos to make this the day you gave me my name-sign. You,” he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “You gave me a gift I can’t ever repay, but I wanted to try. So, here it is.”

He holds out his hand, displaying a necklace. Makkari gently grabs it, and craddles it in her hand. She can see a disc at the end, so she holds it closer to her face.

On the disc is a simple, centered drawing of a middle finger.

She beams up at him, giving him an amused look.

I love it! But what does this have to do with what you said?

He reaches out and flips it over for her.

There’s an inscription on the back, and she recognizes it as his handwriting.

My beautiful, beautiful Makkari.

She looks up sharply, and sees he’s already looking intently at her, drinking in her reaction.

She’s suddenly overcome with so much joy and adoration that she surges forward, pulls him forward by the neck, and meets his lips with hers.

-------------------------------------

DAY SIX: DRUIG

And just like that, the park is silent. The people’s chatter, the dog barking, the wind blowing—all of it, gone. The world is tilting, tilting, tilting, and their kiss tastes like whipped cream. It tastes like whipped cream, mocha frappuccinos, carrot cake, cappuccinos, and everything else that led them to this moment. This moment, that he wants to live in forever.

-------------------------------------

DAY SIX: MAKKARI

After what feels like both forever and only a second, Druig pulls away.

“So will you?” he asks. Makkari tilts her head to the side in question. She can barely remember own name right now, how could she know what he’s talking about? He gives her a breathy, delightful laugh.

My beautiful, beautiful Makkari, he signs in perfect, practiced strokes. Will you go to their wedding with me?

She shyly swings her head to the side, fidgeting nervously all of a sudden. Druig notices this, so he catches her head and gently, but firmly, cups her cheek.

They stare into each other's eyes, and after a moment Makkari slowly nods.

Then she nods again, and again, until her head is moving up and down like an excited puppy.

Druig gives her an unabashed, full smile, and it’s the last thing she sees before he kisses her again.

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DAY SIX, LATER:

Under a sky filled with stars, Druig and Makkari are laying on a blanket together. Makkari occasionally points out the constellations and signs their names, and almost everytime she finishes a name Drug will grab her hand and brush it against his lips. It's a neverending rotation of her knuckles, her fingertips, and then her inner wrist. It's like once he'd started touching her, he couldn't stop. They are closer than Makkari ever hoped they would be tonight, with them pressed side by side, heads slightly tilted enough to be touching. She turns to him to make sure he’s paying attention, but sees that his eyes are already on her. She flushes, not used to being the center of his attention in such an intimate position yet.

Tomorrow, I’m giving you all the free cappuccinos you want, she signs, fingering the necklace that Druig had lovingly put on her hours ago.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” he states. “I hate coffee.”

What? she signs fiercely, sitting up. Why did you ask for it then?

"On that first day, Phastos sent me to order his coffee for him."

Then why did you keep drinking it?

“Because you’re the one who makes it for me.”

You could have ordered something else! she accuses, ignoring her heart’s reaction to his smirk.

“Eh, nothing else really interested me,” he lightly shrugs, now in a sitting position as well. “Plus, you got so happy when you gave me one without me having to order it. You should have seen the look on your face.”

You could have told me, she insists, now slightly blushing.

“How should I put it…” Druig pauses to think for a moment, and turns to her with a more serious look in his eye. “Makkari, if you were a bartender, I’d be an alcoholic. If you were a professor, I’d be valedictorian. Hell, if you were a drug dealer, I’d be an addict. So Makkari, if you’re a barista, I’ll gladly drink gross sludge if it means I get the chance to talk to you.”

Makkari can just stare at him, he’s left her speechless and breathless. He gives her a soft smile, and her heart swells fuller than a river in flood. She’s completely overjoyed, and she can feel her face burning.

She feels so lucky to have met Druig. She’ll never stop thanking the stars above her for the man next to her. His eyes, looking deep into hers, are filled with so much warmth and affection.

That was so corny, she finally replies, and captures his lips once again.