Work Text:
Also this is how I will depict Espresso's room from now on in every fanfic of mine I think
Espresso, since he was little, had one big toxic trait… If that could be said.
Ignoring his feelings and outer world, letting himself get consumed in work, project, experiments and studying. Ever since middle school, though the best student in his class, scoring perfects each and every test and smart since his nature, he felt pressured to try more. Try harder. Like his best was never enough.
He got used to that. He got used to all of it. The amount of work supposed to be done, the projects he took upon himself and the nights he used to stay awake just to study something he could recite like a basic poem.
He got told, over and over, to take a break. To not let himself get this consumed, or with the flow, time would start blending together and basic tasks, such as self care, would be harder. He got told stories of burnout by his teachers in private, he got told stories of how dissociation almost fucked over some teachers life.
He refused to listen. He had a goal, after all, that to be the best coffee mage there has ever been. And he certainly didn’t want to listen to stories that (he thought) only wanted him to give up the hope of achieving the only dream he has. He refused to listen.
More like- He didn’t believe it. He’s been doing it for so long as well and never got the feeling of burnout, never had his dates messed up, never had his papers mixed up, never fell back on self care. He thought of it as something that perhaps only took over a weaker mind than his, he thought he was stronger to withstand.
That’s one thing he was wrong about.
Staring into nothing, he tried to focus. On the letters he’s writing, on the ink flowing from the pen or at least the paper structure, yet he failed. Blurry and blurring together more, he whined. Pulling his glasses up to rub his eyes, hoping it would make it a little better. Behold, it didn’t. He felt worse now.
Looking over to an empty mug, he groaned, trying to pick it up. He did, but let go almost right away. It was as his hands were weak- Too weak for his taste. Anyone's taste. Felt like nothing but an old piece of rug barely hanging together. He felt… pathetic.
He couldn’t even wash his mug in the beginning, which resulted in many mugs on his table, dirty and in need of at least a wash. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave his office (he did every once in a while). Passing out in his chair every couple days, he lost count how often it happens. His clock probably stopped working, he thinks, the seconds hand not moving. Or it looks like it’s not moving.
Has time frozen? He asked himself that one too many times to count in the past… time. He wasn’t sure.
Has a day gone by? Two, a week, perhaps? Maybe this is the reason he left his position as a Parfaedian teacher, since he lost track of time so often… How did he not see this happening in the first place? So long since it started happening, too...
Now he remembers all his teachers used to say. The stories they told him, the situations they explained, the experiences they went through because of all this. He remembers all that- a burnout . That’s what he’s experiencing right now, isn’t he? “Poor him”, one would think and one would say. He would not.
Though he feels pathetic and weak, broken and useless to the world since, because of his blurry vision that glasses won’t fix, he can’t really see, read, write. Anything. Making coffee became a challenge and passing out to get at least a little sleep feels inviting.
Through all that, this dissociated state has become his… Home. What once has felt disturbing, scary, confusing and wrong now feels… Right. Comforting, inviting and warm.
He got used to the blurry vision, he learned to navigate through colored specks and weirdly looking shapes. He learned to make his espresso (almost) the way he always did before this happened. He learned to not care about the time. He learned to write decently even though the letters swirled and got messy. He learned to live with a raspy, almost unhearable voice and a whisper.
He got used to his mind being loud but quiet at the same time. The silence was overtaken by radio static and ringing, the way his head pulsed- it felt like a mothers embrace at this point. It felt like a shelter you know will keep you safe from the monsters at night.
And he hated himself for it- he hated how warm tears felt against his cheeks, he hated how weirdly familiar it was to not recognize himself in person. He hates it, it’s weird. He hates it, he fucking despises every aspect of it, then why does it feel so homey? Cozy. Safe, even.
,,ESPRESSO!” and that’s an intruder.
A loud one. A bright one and holy fuck Espresso despises everything about him (At least he thinks he does). It’s been a while since they haven’t talked, like what? Three days?
,,Let me in, goddamn it! It’s been almost two weeks since you locked yourself in and believe me, I do not wish to break your door down!” has he heard right? Two weeks? And his door is locked?
He doesn’t believe his own ears, is he sure he is hearing properly at this moment? Not only he doesn’t remember his own birthday nor age at the moment, how can he remember locking the door? He truly is a mess, isn’t he?
He sniffles- Fuck he’s so vulnerable right now, and wipes his tears away. He hates it, so fragile. Too fragile, he feels like.
,,Just a second!” he gets up from his chair. His head swirls the way his special spell does and he barely gets a hold of the table before falling down, legs weak, shaking, barely holding his (starving, mind you) body up together. But he can’t let it show, right?
He looks up and around his office- Fuck, this is a mess. He’ll know- Madeleine (the intruder, if one didn’t get it) will surely know somethings wrong. His vision going from normal to the blurrier he’s ever been in seconds, it’s making him dizzy.
He doesn’t remember what he even has on… Probably the same clothes he had… Two weeks ago. At least he had a shower yester… At this point it could’ve been a month ago and Espresso would straight up just not know.
Go with the flow , he thinks. Go with the flow .
One step without holding, second one and some books are spiraling down, making loud thuds as his legs almost give up on him- It’s not that far away, he can go the distance. He can do anything if he sets his mind to it, right?
,,Espresso, what was that?!” Madeleine yelled with a sob right after- Is Madeleine crying? For him? Espresso wonders just as why, since he’s never really been polite to the knight. (He also doesn’t realize that if Madeleine’s crying just because of some thuds, Espresso letting him in will make his crying even worse.)
A few more, over time, slowly. He grabs the key in the lock (How did he forget to take it out in the first place?) and turns it, opening the door with a soft click. That’s how Espresso was sent flying on his ass, as Madeleine barged in, worried. Without his armor.
Espresso, with a growl (more like a groan, but VERY raspy) as he closed his eyes.
,,What the sun is… Why so up mid Winter?” he asked, voice physically suffering, everyone would hear the pain coming through.
,,Mid Winter…? It’s almost the end of Spring! Look at you! You look awful, Espresso! That’s not like you, not-” Madeleine went silent. That made Espresso concerned. What made him even more concerned was the fact that Madeleine said, and he quotes in his head, ‘the end of Spring’... Spring? It’s Spring already? He doesn’t know- How could he, he hasn’t picked up a calendar since the mid of Winter… Maybe the start of it?
So long… Two weeks, Madeleine said before? Or three. FUCK. It’s all blurring together already, it hasn’t been five minutes. Or maybe it has, only god knows how long it took him to get to the goddamned door.
So… If it’s been… Two weeks since he locked his door, when was the last time Madeleine came over? And for fucks sake why does he care-
But the way he looks… Even with tears pouring down his face, in civilian clothing (probably on a break, he presumes), in front of him with a worried expression, Espresso can’t help but wonder that why he shines like the sun itself? Would his skin be smooth and feel like a calming fire? And FUCK does Espresso hate himself for thinking all these thoughts… He wished for the radio static again, for nothing midst everything an-
,,ESPRESSO!” he shakes his head, inducing a raging headache. He winces in pain, bringing his hand up to his forehead to try and ease the pain, knowing it won’t work and maybe make him look like a fool.
,,Ah- I’m sorry for shaking with you so violently! I closed the door, you can open your eyes now- Are you okay?!” Madeleine yelled- Spoke? The volume is too loud anyway, and instead of opening his eyes, he brings his hands to cover his ears.
,,...Am I talking too loudly? God I’m so sorry, Espresso. I haven’t realized that, in this state, you're to be much more sensitive and fragile… Dear heavens forgive me… but… Please… What’s going on? This mess isn’t like you- The Espresso I know and-...” he stops himself, only for a brief second, Espresso wants Madeleine to run his mouth like he usually would. No barriers stopping his words.
,,And… Whatever… I just… What’s wrong? You don’t leave your living room this messy- Yes I checked, neither your- Especially your work room and I can see, even from this hallway, that your kitchen seems to be messy!” he gets carried away for a bit and then looks away, shamefully, like he just broke one of Eclair’s relics. Espresso wanted to cup his face and wipe away his tears and fuck he hates it. But it feels… Familiar, almost?
,,Look at yourself… Bags under eyes… Which could be said is normal but not this… visible… Your hair is messy, you hate it when your hair is messy… Your clothes are very wrinkly and clearly need washing… You yourself don’t smell like the best coffee to exist and I should know… Espresso, talk to me? Or do you want me to bring Latte? I know you two are old friends-” Espresso clicked his tongue. Such a him thing. And it was used in a manner he always does- to shut someone up (or as an answer, not right now thought).
He tried to read Madeleine’s feelings, tried to hear his voice perfectly and clearly, but he felt like his head was wrapped with a bag, making it all so muffled. He hated it.
,,I…” he tried, words already meshing together. Can he even speak?
Madeleine took his hand into his and normally, Espresso would protest, scream and be rude, but he can’t. Not just because he’s in this state, he simply can’t. Not just because he’s weak right now, but he couldn’t… Not with how warm and cozy it… No Espresso shouldn’t be thinking about it that way. …Right?
,,Before you say you’re fine- No you’re not… You thought it’s the middle of Winter… And your state and the house aren't convincing either… Why hadn’t I noticed… I came over so often too, how did I not see… Did I wrong you?” Espresso maybe had a hard time hearing through all these feelings, but he for sure wasn’t stupid. Well, he was in the feelings territorium, but this was blatantly obvious, even to him- Madeleine blames himself that Espresso got into this state.
Why? Espresso isn’t one to know. And he doesn’t want to know… Most likely.
,,Uh… Work lot… Much work, lot… Uhhh… Dissociate…” Espresso tried to form sentences, easily understandable sentences. Yet, he couldn’t, words slurring together like he was a mad-drunk man. He oh so hated the state Madeleine was looking at him. Why does it bother him so much?
He sucks with emotions, feelings overall. This is confusing. He hates it.
,,Have you consumed yourself with so much work that time has become irrelevant…? Then you… Dissociated mid-work one day and… What?” of course. He expected Madeleine to understand the nonsense he spoke out, but for some reason he felt listened to, when Madeleine figured much of it without many words in the first place. Proud? Or happy? Fuck.
,,Time… blend together… blurry everything… Memories… Vision… Hear… Mmmmm…” Espresso whined again, feeling emotional. He was so vulnerable in this state, they both know. Madeleine sees it. He brings his hands to cup Espresso cheeks for a little second before he panics and just wipes his tears but fuck Espresso understands that those wishes for Madeleine to hold his face weren’t in fact intrusive thoughts, it was something he wanted- Needed? To happen. He wanted to tell him that fuck no put the hands back but he couldn’t.
,,Can you see me well? Even in your glasses?” Madeleine asked and without much effort- Espresso shook his head. Gentle, careful to not make the raging headache stronger.
,,Have you been taking care of yourself?” Espresso cursed him out in his mind. Madeleine already knows Espresso never really does, why is he asking? But, without any irritation, Espresso shakes his head.
That continues for a bit, Madeleine asking basic questions he already knows his answer to, but, for some reason, needed Espresso to confirm.
When Madeleine got all the answers he needed, he decided on one thing- He wiped his tears into his pants and smiled at Espresso and fuck Espresso hates loves hates loves doesn’t know how to feel about it. So gentle and caring, like a mother.
,,You’re going to protest, but I’m taking you to take a bath- No. I’m bathing you.” Espresso’s face went red- Everything was already pulsing before, it was too confusing. But somehow he knew that he blushed- A lot or little, he wasn’t sure, had it mattered? No.
,,No. Stop. Weird.” Espresso TRIED (keyword) to protest, trying to hit Madeleine, but he couldn’t even punch him the weakest he knows at his current limit.
,,No, as a Knight Commander, I shall take care of you!” Madeleine smiles at him, heroically. He hates it- loves it- doesn’t know what to make of it.
,,You do… Would… For anyone… Whatever.” Espresso completely gave up on words. Madeleine smiled.
,,Not for anyone. You’re special.” Madeleine said in such a gentle voice Espresso was sure that if he were to continue that, he not only wouldn’t (probably) be as bothered, but sure enough he’d even go to sleep if he got a plea in such a gentle tone.
He decided to do what he told himself before. Go with the flow .
It was very hard to get Espresso in his bath (at least the bathroom was clean, Madeleine cheered). He was a stubborn one, but sure enough when Madeleine promised to keep his eyes closed while Espresso got into the warm, bubbly (Madeleine wasn’t aware Espresso fancied bubble baths, but it’s one more thing to remember) bath, Espresso was convinced. Throwing his clothing into a laundry basket (which already had clothing in before, probably doesn’t smell very well), he held onto the walls and anything he found while he got into the bath.
And there he was, Espresso, a very respected coffee mage, one of many but one of the best there ever was, with an amazing reputation around the kingdom he resides in at the moment, getting his hair washed by Madeleine. Someone, who he used to despise, a light magic user, a Knight Commander. The paladin who keeps bothering him and he loves hates it. And he’s enjoying it.
He’s loving it. He’s totally living for the moment, so close to falling asleep as Madeleine’s fingers (so perfect, he thinks though he thinks he maybe shouldn’t) massage the shampoo into his hair. Madeleine was so gentle, like he was taking care of something just so fragile (Espresso looked fragile, if that counts). He asked each and every time that if the tugging hurt, Espresso learned to dismiss with a tongue click.
And by the time Madeleine got to washing the shampoo out, Espresso was asleep. Sound asleep, like a child who played all day. Madeleine noticed, and as a small smile crept up to his face, he decided he should be extra careful to not wake up the mage with an unpleasant surprise. Espresso looked peaceful. Espresso looked beautiful. Madeleine wanted to giggle like a middle school girl, he was in love. So in love.
He wanted to kiss him gently, maybe brush his lips against his but he has enough self control to not be a creep like that. He resists the urge to shower his face with kisses, though it eats him up inside a little.
,,Essy, I hate to wake you up but you have to get out…” Madeleine spoke in the same, gentle tone he started using when Espresso covered his ears- Espresso seemed to appreciate that thought. And there it went again, Espresso woke up a bit more and Madeleine closed his eyes while still helping Espresso out. Espresso kept watching if Madeleine wasn’t watching, but sure enough that if there is something that human can do, it’s to keep a promise and a word.
He got into some simple clothes Madeleine brought him (he didn’t know when but it was while Espresso was asleep. Madeleine was also panicky during all that and made sure to be as fast as possible so that Espresso wouldn’t accidentally drown.) and, with a lot of grunts as protests, he got carried to bed.
Espresso, as much as he wanted, he couldn’t cry. He oh so wanted to because in his arms he finally understood- The familiar warmth, the familiar coziness he feels near Madeleine is what he feels when deeply dissociated. Just like now, where time seems to freeze and all his human functions stop working. The utter feeling of despair he should hate he learned to love and find warm, cozy and homey. That’s how Madeleine feels. How his skin brushes against Espresso’s, how gentle his voice can get and his caring nature. Espresso hated being taken care of, but for some reason, Madeleine could get a free pass.
And before falling asleep in his arms, he thought that maybe- But only and just maybe, the thought he is in love with a paladin he should despise (aka: what he led himself to believe he should be doing) is true. He hates it loves it doesn’t know how to feel about it. He never does.
When Espresso next woke up, it was… He looked outside- More like to the window. The blinds were down and though he hates to admit it, he’d rather have his eyes burnt out by the sun to know that it’s day than to have his blinds hang there with zero care in the world.
He sighed, another blurry vision day, he thinks. He tries to ignore all the memories he has from yesterday- Falling asleep to Madeleine massaging his hair, falling asleep in his arms, loving the warm embrace… Loving? No, surely he can’t…
There they are, warm tears pouring down his face as he stares into the blanket.
What breaks him out is a smell- A beautiful one of eggs and bacon with a bit of freshly made toast, he turns his head to the side to see his glasses placed neatly there beside a tray with food, it seems?
He reaches for his glasses, putting them on and blinking a few times- They have been cleaned, and the person hasn’t done a bad job at it… Did Madeleine… No, there’s no way.
He turns back to the tray of food he saw and to his surprise- two eggs with some bacon seemingly fresh with some toast on the side. And a note laying there near a cup of… Tea?
Espresso cringes, he’s not a fan of tea… Depending on the tea.
He takes the note in his hand, a pretty written note, he has to say. And his vision doesn’t seem that blurry, he can probably read it well.
Dearest Espresso,
Good morning! Or whatever time you’ve woken up! Your clock was broken and I tried to repair it, but failed! I am bringing you a new one once I come back!
I have left some food for you on the tray- a pretty decent breakfast, I hope you will! There is also some black tea to go along with it, no sugar, no sweet add-ons, bitter almost like coffee. I am not letting you have coffee for another week. That is how long I will be staying, actually!
After I have seen the condition you and your living in, I can not allow for you to stay alone! I will be moving in for the time being to your couch and will make sure you will get back into shape! (Including your house)
At the time of writing this note, it is about 8am and I am leaving for patrol and will come back with some of my personal things at around lunch time to prepare us something to eat! Meanwhile, please enjoy your breakfast!
With all regards,
Madeleine.
Espresso felt his tears become heavier and heavier. He saw the tear stains on the note from tears not of his own, the ink seeping away in those now dry spots. He hates it. Why does he hate it? Does he hate the fact he made Madeleine cry and worry, or does he hate it because there’s now an intruder taking what’s familiar and cozy away? Or is it both? Which one is it- Argh, he fucking despises emotions.
He takes one good look at the food, it’s becoming cold. It’s not letting out any smoke indicating that it’s fresh, but putting a hand near, he still can feel the warmth. Madeleine probably left a few minutes ago, Espresso thinks.
Thank god, is another thought. He doesn’t have to face him, but why is it a good thing? Because he’s angry at him? Because he despises him? Because there are no questions to be asked? Or because he’s scared of seeing that warm, caring look?
He takes a piece of the toast to his hand and places one egg and a piece of bacon there. Looking at it, his mouth is full of saliva, it looks so good but…
He takes a bite as he chokes the sob while munching. The toast is still crispy, the bacon is crunchy and the egg is seasoned perfectly, like he never did before. Like he hasn’t had in years.
He chokes another sob as he fills his mouth. Fuck he hates it, the motherly love and the perfect cooking, the room filled with memories of when he was smaller and his mother had taken care of him when he was sick.
He can’t keep choking sobs on the food or the tea (which was delicious, he thinks) forever and is soon left with choking his sobs behind gritted teeth.
For the first time in years, he feels loved. Cared for. Madeleine is nothing like his mother, but this simple gesture brought so much. His embrace made him feel safe, safer that dissociation ever did. He hates him loves him doesn’t know what to do.
Espresso is left alone with his feelings, wondering and searching for an answer.
Loves him, loves him not, he tore the petals off in his mind and before he could tear away the last one, he felt his eyes get heavy. He cried all the way through it. Does he love him or the memories he brings back? Why does he love him? Why would he- He…
And with that, he falls asleep again. Tired, exhausted even. From everything- Work, life in general, the coldness of the house, the loneliness, all made him tired.
Espresso is awoken yet again when he hears the front door shut. He panicked at first, but noticed the note on the empty tray and realized what’s happening… Madeleine is hom-… Madeleine is back to annoy.
,,Espresso? Ah- You’re awake! How are you feeling?” Madeleine opens the door gently and hushes his voice mid sentence to not disturb much. Closing the door behind him, he stays there, waiting for Espresso to answer. Espresso is just looking at him with a puzzled look. He didn’t notice it before, but everything is pretty spinny. A little dizzy… A headache?
,,Fine… Not counting the headache, the dizziness and spinning and your presence.” he tries to spit in a bitter voice, but it’s closer to a whisper. And raspy that’s not close to his usual bitter voice.
,,Ah. I’m glad… I see you ate the breakfast I made for you, have you enjoyed it?” Madeleine spoke in a soft voice, Espresso wanted to break down again. He can’t.
,,...It wasn’t the worst.” Madeleine smiled. It was Espresso’s way of saying “I enjoyed it, thank you”.
,,That’s great. Do you need anything?” Espresso looks away from him, feeling a threatening tear to fall off.
,,Maybe help me to the bathroom, if you will, since you forced yourself here.” Espresso spat at him and Madeleine obliged. He helped him slowly stand up and took Espresso's arm around his neck, making sure Espresso doesn't fall since his legs are still shaky.
Espresso felt humiliated by this, of course, but he wasn’t in the mood to complain for whatever reason.
This was for sure to be one hell of a week.
At first it was hell-like having someone in the house. Espresso hated being awoken by doors opening or closing, since all he could do now was sleep. He didn’t want to be awake because no matter what he tried to do, his mind went back- Does he love or hate Madeleine? And what are these feelings then?
Madeleine did like first and last for him- He brought him his favorite sugar coated donuts when he asked, he brought him any book from his office he asked for, he got his tea (since he couldn’t have proper coffee now) almost whenever he wanted and Madeleine was there to help him whenever Espresso wanted.
Does Espresso love it or hate it? He doesn’t know. His chest is warm and full of butterflies, his mind goes back to the “It’s safe here, let’s stay like this forever” mindset. He wanted to get out of that as soon as possible for him. The dissociation was fading, it wasn’t safe anymore, he tried to trick himself. He knows that the end of March is nearing now, he has his clock back which he can watch for hours on end and be aware of time and his blinds are now slightly open all the time.
He got a little mirror and he recognized who he is- The hair, the eyes and the place, skinny fingers touching his cheeks, he recognized it all. He started recognizing his voice, he started hearing the birds chirping in the morning when Madeleine kept the window open after bringing him breakfast. His mind was no longer silent, radio static and ringing at once, it was a flow of thoughts- Like a waterfall, clear and steady. He could finally think straight, he hated it. He saw the leaves of the tree in front of his window move with the morning wind, he hates it. It’s no longer safe, he tries to trick himself but no, his mind doesn’t let him. Madeleine is here.
His legs stopped shaking and he could get up and go wherever pleased to, but he chose not to. At least mostly. The excuse of the world slightly spinning was brought up each and every time and Espresso knew that Madeleine knew Espresso was lying to his face, making excuses. Yet, he still helped him without a second thought.
Fourth day comes along and Espresso thinks that maybe he shouldn’t rely on Madeleine’s care since it won’t last forever.
Espresso wakes up early- At least Earlier than lately and sits up, rubbing his eyes. His door with a small crack, he can hear some sizzling. Is he awake early enough to see Madeleine cooking? And why would he want to?
Because he loves him.
Espresso shakes his head, blushing. He can’t hide the blush, but he can hide the feelings. If not from himself, then at least from Madeleine. His heart skips a beat, his heart jumps, he feels it in his throat. He feels the butterflies make a mess in his stomach, he feels himself burn up even more- He had too much time off work to think about it. Too much time to himself and his thoughts. It’s okay, he can hide it.
He puts his glasses on, his bed is not enough for Madeleine to fit in any- He slaps himself mentally, no. Not now, not ever. Why.
He gets out, stretching before standing up, making sure he doesn’t fall back down on the bed and scare Madeleine. Why doesn’t he want to, why does he care so suddenly? Or did he care all the time but never noticed it? Another mental slap to himself.
He creaks the door and freezes. Madeleine is there in a loose shirt and some simple pants on, that’s not the point.
His normally long and loose hair is put up in a big, very messy bun with some hair strands coming out on the bottom, he most likely forgot those there. The window is open, the blinds completely uncovered. He hears the birds singing as Madeleine is focused on the cooking (most likely). His skin glows, his hair shines, he loves it. There we go, he loves it. His heart dances and his soul sings- Espresso realized. A small, stupid moment of Madeleine caring. Being considerate. At Espresso’s stove, Madeleine at home, making breakfast, Espresso realized he’s in love. Completely standing still, cheeks burning up.
Madeleine turns around, thinking he heard a creek and there is Espresso standing, half hiding behind the door, looking at Madeleine. He notices quickly and looks away, out the window, on the bright sky.
,,Ah- Espresso! Good morning! Nice to see you stand on your own!” Espresso looks back and Madeleine gives him a wide smile. His lips are such a pretty peachy pink shining in the early sunlight, his eyes look like a blue galaxy unraveling it’s secrets to Espresso. They sparkle, Espresso thinks. Madeleine’s shining.
Espresso wants to take a leap of faith- Brush his own lips against Madeleine’s, maybe kiss him gently. He never kissed anyway nor dreamed of it, but he wants to try- Just try, have that little bit of bravery he’s lacking.
,,Good morNing, Madeleine…” his voice cracks while he gets lost in Madeleine’s eyes for a brief second before taking his seat at the table. Espresso isn’t dressed the best, his hair isn’t brushed. Madeleine takes one good look at him.
Espresso is glowing. His cheeks are flushed and are rosey like his lips are, his eyes reflect the morning sunlight like coffee. They sparkle, Madeleine can see himself in them. His hair a slight mess, it’s everywhere. Strands in his eyes, some standing up. If he wasn’t in love before, he surely was now. He and Espresso at home, he’s in love.
,,Thank you for keeping me company, Espresso! I’m finishing up these pancakes…” Espresso nodded, unable to speak. His words got caught up in his throat and since then, no words were spoken.
Madeleine finished up the pancakes and served them alongside various jams. They said their “enjoy your meal” and ate. Espresso felt peaceful.
Madeleine’s mouth is getting messy with jams and he keeps laughing and giggling about it, licking it off his fingers when he gets it, Espresso sits, stunned. Espresso finally feels loved, seen, cared for. Safe. Cozy. Homey. Comfortable. Espresso could stay like this forever.
Espresso got back to work that day to distract himself. It didn’t work as he wanted it to. He kept looking over at the time to see when Madeleine would come back just so he could see him again.
Instead of writing down formulas and mathematic things, he ended up drawing a heart with an M. He erased it the moment he realized what he was doing. It’s so out of his character. Everyone would notice, thank god he doesn’t take tours out.
That day, Madeleine decided to invite Latte over, hoping Espresso wouldn’t mind. He did. Latte threw one too many questions at him, asking if he’s okay, how bad it’s been, how he’s feeling currently, if he passed out, how long it went on for- Espresso stopped paying attention after that.
Madeleine, after seeing Espresso's tired expression and him going back to writing, decided to handle it himself, answering Latte’s questions. In the course of five minutes, Latte broke into tears, hugged Espresso twice and yelled at him (not that loudly) once.
,,Go ahead, I’ll finish writ-”
,,That could wait, Espresso.” Madeleine came over and caught Espressos writing hand, making him do a little line downwards as Madeleine held his wrist holding a pen. Espresso was staring at it and then looked at Madeleine, who stood there with a gentle smile.
,,Let’s have lunch first, shall we?” Espresso blushed. He felt all the good things come back- He loved. He loves.
,,Sure.” In disbelief, Latte stood there, shocked. It’s not everyday Espresso puts his work down for someone.
,,Good! You two can sit at the table while I prepare lunch or do anything else, Latte just keep him from working.” Madeleine ordered and as he was about to leave-
,,Wait-... What are you preparing today?” Espresso asked with a hint of care in his voice, it made Madeleine beam like a puppy.
,,Ah- I’m making something simpler today! I’m just making some pasta and sauce, it might take a while but it’s lighter than I did the days before!” Madeleine says with obvious joy in his voice and leaves for the kitchen, taking his armor off in the process.
,,Yes! I will- Espresso. We need to talk. Right now.”
Latte basically locked them in Espresso’s office and started questioning him, like she was a detective and Espresso was a suspect that had already been caught and just needed to say what he did himself. Espresso felt like a prisoner to her questions before, it’s even worse now. Almond has an effect on her.
,,Just tell me! Do you like Madeleine?” she asked, yet again, for like the twentieth time.
,,It’s not that hard! Just say “yes” or “no”, that's all I want. Please?” she begged, using her puppy eyes but no, Espresso was not losing his pride to that today.
,,Why? So you can pester me about my answer later?” Espresso asked and Latte let out a sigh of rage before turning away for a moment to calm down.
,,No. I just- You don’t put your work down for anyone, Espresso. And to care what one is cooking and- It’s so obvious you like him, just say it!” Latte came back over to him, towering over him. He’s just sitting down, Latte doesn’t need to act so mighty, he’s taller than her when standing. But he can let her have her fun this time.
,,You can’t get a word out of me.” Espresso smirked a little, feeding off her anger. At least he’s having fun, right?-
,,ESPRESSO FOR FFFFFFF-”
,,I hear Latte in distress, is all okay?” Madeleine walks in, no knocking, mostly just concerned Latte is losing temper. No wonder, she’s a very patient person after all.
,,Peachy. I am peachy. When is lunch, please?” she asked, gritting her teeth, she obviously wasn’t peachy at all.
,,Oh, lunch is ready! I wanted to tell you that but then I heard someone losing patience. Come eat!” Madeleine exclaimed in a happy tone and Espresso got up, following Madeleine as he went back and Latte stood, dumbfounded.
Espresso didn’t talk back, didn’t refuse, didn’t do nothing. Completely out of his character, he stood up and went to eat with someone he says he despises. That answers her question enough. She smiles, victoriously, it’s all she needed.
Lunch went pretty smoothly, they’d say. Espresso minded his business, being consumed by Madeleine’s good cooking (and his good looks) and Madeleine with Latte engaged in a conversation, having fun and laughing.
Espresso kept sneaking glances Latte was aware of and had just enough self control to not call him out on it. Over all, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, Espresso thinks.
The rest of the week went pretty smoothly. Latte hadn’t bothered them or come over to another lunch (because she was sure that if she did Espresso would cuss her out), Espresso was free to do his work but with Madeleine checking in on him, calling him for lunch and dinner and stopping him from work around 9pm. It annoyed Espresso a tiny bit, but in that time, he learned to love the attention and care he gets.
He doesn’t mind as much as he would before it all happened, how did he get to this point? How did he get from a cozy feeling of nothingness and everything to a cozy feeling of being loved and cared for, he wonders. It surely has been a long week, Madeleine dragging him to watch movies when he made him stop work or he begged Espresso to tell him more about coffee magic so long until Espresso dropped all he had and did.
They read Espresso’s books together, Espresso helped out with cookies like three times and they said goodnights.
Espresso is here, writing down his mathematical calculations, wondering- Why can’t he? Just why can’t he say it? To anyone else, to Madeleine; He loves him. Three words, but it would destroy him. He’d crumble like a cookie, his pride would fall. He can’t do well with feelings well, the only reason why he came to terms with him being in love is because of how much time he had to think about it all.
Maybe feelings need time to think them through? But it’s a waste of time… Espresso is conflicted. Should he? He means- It’s probably the best time, isn’t it? It’s all too much- His calculation is wrong. Amateur mistake.
,,Espresso! Come watch a movie!” Madeleine barges in as always, mid Espresso’s earring of his mistake, he erases a slight bit of other calculations as well. He shook it off, so out of his usual character.
,,Already? Alright. Can I at least-”
,,Yes, you can change into something comfortable. To be honest I still don’t understand why you have to look all professional even at home but… Nevermind.” huh. Madeleine rarely doesn’t finish his sentences, he recalls. He recalls that moment when he found him… “This mess isn’t like you- The Espresso I know and-...” it rings in his mind, the way his voice sounded so fragile and how it cracked like glass that was being slowly broken off, shards everywhere, it hit his heart.
,,Espresso? You okay?” Madeleine snaps his fingers before his face, making Espresso snap back into reality.
,,Sorry. Just started thinking.” he says, no further explanation given and leaves his office. He hates the feelings but it’s so addicting.
In his room, he almost gave up. Well, at least his legs did. He’s such a coward- He could say it and get rejected and Madeleine would leave or in whatever reality, Madeleine would return his feelings. It doesn’t feel real, that scenario doesn’t feel possible. Madeleine leaning in to kiss him back, making Espresso melt- He should really stop thinking sometimes.
He changes into a more loose shirt and some comfortable pants, not the tight ones he wears on a daily basis.
Going to the living room, he thinks if he really should. These movie nights could go wrong any time, he knows it. A heartfelt confession, a heartbreak or they could end up fucking. No one really knows. Neither does he and it’s a little scary, but Madeleine’s there, therefore it’s safe.
,,Espresso! I was getting a little impatient- I don’t even know what’s on tonight, probably some action movies like always…” the tv is playing on a decent volume. Espresso's ears can handle it and not die off, he appreciates the thought. A small gesture, it makes his heart dance. His cheeks are warm, he smiles.
Madeleine sees him smile. As he sits down, the glow of the tv illuminates his face in such a perfect way, his lips slightly parted into a slight smile, Madeleine’s cheeks burn up.
And they sit there, a movie playing, a comfortable silence. Madeleine fidgets, trying to find a comfortable position. It’s on his mind, he keeps thinking about it- Say it, say it, say it, he tells himself. Say it, goddamn it! So why can’t he? Why can’t he be straight forward? Is it because he’s scared of rejection? Everyone is, he’ll have to go through it eventually-
He fidgets more, trying to ease his mind watching the movie, he can’t keep his eyes off Espresso. He’s so beautiful. And as Espresso turns to him, Madeleine looks off.
Espresso is done for. The TV glow illuminating his eyes in a way they feel like the heavenly gates, his flushed face looked like Divine blessed. Espresso wasn’t one to believe these things, but if it was Madeleine they were speaking about, he’d believe anything.
Divine blessed, is he truly? Are his lips Divine blessed as well? He wants to try, just a little-
,,Espresso, I…” Madeleine starts off, his heart heavy and voice a little shaky- He’s scared. Honestly, no lying, to himself, he’s scared. He looks at Espresso who stares back with confusion painted in his face, he curses himself under his breath. He’s doing this now, isn’t he?
,,In the week I spent here, I just… I wanted to let you know…” not thinking straight, he’s messing up his words, that’s not like him.
,,I just wanted to let you know I really… Enjoyed your company and… I was glad to help you… I- I hope you- Liked- Uhm-” Madeleine panics when Espresso squints his eyes at him. But is Espresso seeing this right? Embarrassed Madeleine in his house, as this couch, in front of him, for him. Only him. It’s addictive… But he’s scared.
,,I hope you liked… My cooking and… I wonder… If we can hang out more… Like this? Or… Get coffee… One day…?” Madeleine gets out, looking at the sofa that separates them- The little space that could be filled with either one of them.
,,...Are you… Asking me out?” Espresso asks, voice completely in shock, not monotone. Full of emotion. Shock, hope and disbelief. He feels it all, the hope in his eyes glimmers and as Madeleine looks back at him, he sees a sparkle dance in Espresso’s eyes.
,,I… Yes. I… I like you- Like like you- I- Espresso-'' his words are jumbled, he didn’t think this confession through. Hell he didn’t because he thought he’d never get to this point of confessing.
Espresso smiled, to his unknowing, he smiled wide. Madeleine sat there, waiting, scared, shaking lightly.
,,I… Yes.” Espresso says, trying to keep his cool but fails horribly. He fidgets, sitting closer- A little closer and Madeleine does as well.
Why is this so hard?
Espresso looks him deep in the eyes, placing one hand on his cheeks, feeling them burn. Madeleine does the same.
Why does it still feel so hard and so far away, but so close?
Madeleine leans in and Espresso does as well, nodding. Madeleine takes it as a sign and leans so close their lips almost touch.
Espresso doesn’t understand feelings much, but he does understand one thing.
He leans in and kisses Madeleine.
It all falls into place.
It felt angelic, heavenly even. So soft and gentle, a first kiss for both of them. He shuffled closer, deepening the kiss lightly, holding the other. Espresso threw his hands and held them together behind Madeleine’s neck while Madeleine hugged his waist.
It all felt perfect.
They let go. They don’t want to. Their lips linger, it’s addicting.
They make eye contact, it holds all what needs to be said.
Without another word, they lean back in for another kiss.
It feels warm. Cozy. Homey.
Safe.