Chapter Text
It was spring when everything changed, the leaves had just begun to grow back, flowers were only just budding, and everything in the world had the undertone of green. Adam Raki had gone to the same cafe for months, ordered the exact same coffee, and he didn't have anything to really worry about. His life was stable enough, and while he had to deal with occasional awkward social situations, he usually kept himself in his comfort zone.
This cafe he frequented was quiet, warm, with comfortable, tan chairs, and minimal crowds. He felt a sense of peace there that he didn't get from most other places. Apart from the good coffee and calm atmosphere, there was one other reason he enjoyed this location; he could play his cello there.
He had randomly picked up a fondness for the cello in his teens, the strong, low vibrations that resounded from the instrument brought him to a strange state of peace. They resonated in his chest, and took his mind off his beating heart and expanding lungs. He wasn't full of his own organs then, he was full of the music he played. He didn't necessarily enjoy playing in front of a crowd, no, but he'd gotten noise complaints after many long hours of him playing his cello in his apartment, so he didn't have many options.
The cafe had a small stage that patrons could use for modest performances. The wood was old, but largely unused. Few people came into the cafe, and even fewer people that wanted to perform. The walls were a cream color, fading slightly the further up the wall you looked. It sat in the corner, not even six inches off the ground, and it was likely used for stand up comedy in the evenings. Not in the mornings though. In the mornings, it was for Adam, his cello, and his music. This morning was no different.
Adam had arrived, ordered and drank his coffee, then sat himself down on the stool on the stage. He pulled his instrument snugly to himself, lined up his bow, and let himself slide into the quiet world of a concerto. He knew after a while that his fingers had started to ache, but he didn't dare stop his playing. He didn't keep track of time, it felt as if it barely passed at all. He let himself nearly drift off in the low tones as they carried him through the songs.
When he finally reopened his eyes, there were significantly less people in the cafe, and he felt slightly disoriented from how long he'd been out of it. The aching in his fingers returned, and he unconsciously squeezed his fist to try and ease the pain. The outside world crept back into his head, much to his dismay, and he prepared himself mentally for going back to reality. He sighed and stood up, much to the protest of his aching joints. He was starting to pack his cello back into its case when he noticed something, or rather someone.
Standing against the far wall, an unlit cigarette in his mouth, was a tall man. He had unkempt blonde hair, in fact, almost everything about him looked unkempt, as if he hadn't been outside in days. His dark eyes never left Adam, and the moment Adam looked back, his mouth split into a cat-like smile. He pulled the cigarette out from his lips, and called, to him, "I liked the show, gorgeous"