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It starts with a barely there twitch of Veritas’ brow, a subtle micro-expression that can be easily missed by anyone less attuned.
But Aventurine, ever the observer, catches it. The twitch escalates to a rapid tap-tap-tap of Veritas’ foot against the wooden floorboards. Finally, with a huff that sends a stray strand of hair fluttering, Veritas holds his arms across his chest, clearly displeased. Aventurine almost feels a silver of sympathy - almost.
“Just a lavender tea,” Veritas grits out, emphasizing each word. “For someone who’s been working here so long, it’s concerning that I’m having to repeat myself.”
Aventurine can’t help but laugh, even when the tiny voice in his head chides him for pushing his luck. “What can I say? Third time’s a charm,” It is only the second time, he’s stretching the truth, but seeing Veritas this flustered is too good to pass up. “Can’t blame a guy for wanting to hear his favorite customer’s voice again, can he?”
Veritas narrows his eyes, unamused. “Clearly a flaw in your work ethic, then. Especially for someone who’s practically a fixture here. If you think it’s good service to have your customers keep repeat themselves, then you might need a refresher course.”
“As much as I appreciate your concern, Ratio,” Aventurine purs, dragging out the name with a teasing smile, “I think I’ll manage. Besides, I haven't gotten fired yet, have I? Now, let’s skip the lecture and get you that Lavender tea? Total’s $4.50.” He sings the price playfully, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
With an exasperated sigh, Veritas fishes out a wallet from his trench coat. Counting out the exact change with a practiced flick of his wrist, he deposits it into Aventurine’s palm. Then, with a muttered “keep the change,” he steps aside to browse to browse the pastries displayed behind the glass shelf.
Aventurine deposits the money into the register, then slips into autopilot, his practiced movements taking over. He grabs a clean mug, his fingers brushing against the familiar stack without a second thought. A quick glance confirmed the lavender tin perched on its usual shelf, and instinctively, he reaches for it. He scoops a generous amount into a small metal infuser. Deftly placing it in the cup, he poured hot water over the lavender watching as the delicate buds unfurled, their color bleeding into the water. He knows exactly how long to steep the tea - long enough to extract the flavor without making it bitter. Setting a silent timer in his mind, Aventurine whistles a jaunty little tune, stealing another glance at Veritas, now engrossed in his phone with an unreadable expression.
It comes to no surprise everyone at campus knows who Veritas is. Top of his class, a favorite with professors, the guy who somehow juggles eight TA positions while maintaining a flawless GPA. (Seriously, does the guy ever sleep?) There’s no denying Veritas’ exceptionalism. A future medical marvel in the making, destined for great things with a graduation gown waiting for him in the fall.
Despite their shared academic ground (Aventurine, a business major, admittedly), their paths have never truly crossed. He shared a few classes with Veritas in the past, but their interactions were limited to awkward group projects. Maybe it’s the difference in their majors, or perhaps Aventurine just hasn’t felt the need to break into Veritas’ seemingly impenetrable orbit. They weren’t friends, and frankly, Aventurine hasn’t felt the need to change that.
With a satisfied hum, Aventurine lifts the mug and walks back to the counter. He presents the steaming cup to Veritas, the fragrant lavender swirling upwards. “And here you go!” he announces. “A lavender tea, freshly brewed just for you.”
Veritas, mid-scroll on his phone, looks up with a startled blink. He quickly slips the phone back into his pocket, and accepts the cup with a mumbled, “Thank you.” His eyes dart around the cafe, settling on a vacant corner table in the back and heads toward it.
Everything else is unfortunately uneventful after that; the evening rush settling in soon after. A wave of customers floods the premises, and Aventurine is quick on his feet, juggling orders and dispensing drinks. But between passing out lattes and frothing cappuccinos, his gaze inevitably drifts towards the corner where Veritas sits, diligently working away at his laptop or occasionally pausing to scribble something in a notebook.
As closing time approaches, the cafe slowly empties. Aventurine watches, a strange mix of relief and disappointment washing over him, as Veritas finally gathers his things and leaves. Their prior conversation is most likely a one-time thing. It’s not as if he expects much out from this.
Twilight deepens, bleeding through the shop windows as Aventurine flips the sign to ‘Closed’, and secures the final lock, unprepared for the sight that awaits him once he steps out.
Veritas is sitting on a chair near a lamplight at the cafe’s outdoor porch underneath a parasol, engrossed in a book that, from a distance, seems to hold his undivided attention.
Unable to resist a playful jab, Aventurine strolls over. “Ratio? I thought you left. Big surprise seeing you’re still here. Looks like you couldn’t stay away from my irresistible charm after all.”
Veritas doesn’t even look up from his book, his voice clipped as he replies, “You speak quite confidently. A fascinating example of how the human mind can manufacture elaborate narratives from thin air.”
“You still haven’t answered my question, you know.”
With a decisive snap, Veritas finally closes his book, and looks up. “This is a public establishment. Where I choose to do my work is entirely independent of your outlandish scenarios.”
“Alright, then,” Aventurine concedes with a playful roll of his eyes. “I’ll leave you to your fascinating literature. I’m heading home.” He gestures theatrically with his hands before turning to walk away.
He is halfway down the block when a shadow falls beside him. Glancing over his shoulder, he nearly chokes in surprise to see Veritas walking in step with him.
Aventurine stops dead in his tracks, forcing Veritas to do the same; his smile, though intact, strains at the edges, and his mind reels internally. “For someone who’s accusing me of an overactive imagination, you sure like to send mixed signals. At this rate, you might as well send my poor heart in cardiac arrest, doctor.”
“If you’re capable of throwing jokes, then you’re clearly in far better health than your dramatics suggest.” Veritas says, unamused. “But to assure you, I’m heading home. We’re going the same direction, so why not walk together?”
With nothing further to add, Veritas breezes past him, leading the way as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred.
Left a step behind, Aventurine wrestles with his confusion. What on earth just happened? Is Veritas actually… walking him home? Given his usual aversion to accompany indisposed ignorant people (especially from what Aventurine remembers a few years back), the idea of him willingly walking someone home seems far-fetched. He only tolerates a select few, if that.
But then again, Aventurine is only seeing a fraction of him. Outside of a few happenstances, Aventurine doesn’t really know what Veritas does in his free time or if that’s just the guy’s personality all year around. One experience from a few years back isn’t enough information to place a bet on his intentions, whatever they may be, no matter how much he wants to. He will need to investigate this a little more before he can wager a guess.
A fleeting thought crosses Aventurine’s mind as he steals a glance at Veritas’ profile. He squashes it instantly. There’s no way.
They reach a lamp post where the sidewalk forks. Veritas stops abruptly, causing Aventurine to almost bump into him. “We’re departing from here.”
Aventurine blinks, tongue-tied. He’s been so caught off guard by Veritas’ micro-mannerisms that he hasn’t considered a proper goodbye. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, Veritas is already walking down the well-lit side street, leaving Aventurine standing alone under the lamppost.
-
The chime of the cafe door announces Aventurine’s exit. To his surprise, Veritas is waiting at the patio again, engrossed in the same book. He glances up, their eyes meet, and with a click, the book shuts. Without a word, Veritas stands and falls into step beside him as they head home, a comfortable silence settling between them. It’s a routine Aventurine doesn’t understand, yet one that leaves him strangely contemplative.
Aventurine is curious, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up, what specifically all of this is supposed to mean. Once is a coincidence, but twice? Three times? A whole week? No, it must be intentional. Yet, he can’t understand why Veritas insisted on walking home with him. Whenever he asked, Veritas would bluntly say, “We take the same route home.” Yeah, like that answers anything.
As they reach their usual parting point, and just as Aventurine is about to say his goodbyes for the night, he’s caught off guard when Veritas speaks first.
“Will you be safe going home tonight?” he says, his words delivered with a soft touch to it.
“Uh, yeah.” Aventurine stammers, suddenly self-conscious. “My apartment’s not far from here. I can manage.”
Veritas offers a curt nod. “In that case, I’ll see you at another time.” He turns, and starts to walk away, choosing his usual route on the left.
The gears in Aventurine’s mind grounds to a halt. Hold on a minute. Another time? It’s been seven nights in a row, the same offer - a walk home together. Has this officially become a thing now? He needs clarification, a more complete understanding of this newfound dynamic unfolding before him. “Hold on a moment!” he interjects, his voice sharper than he intends.
Veritas stops immediately. He turns back, waiting for the question.
Aventurine swallows hard, anxiety coiling in his chest. He gestures vaguely between them, fumbling for the right words. “Are we…” he pauses, the weight of the unspoken question heavy on his tongue. Finally, he forces the words out, “Are we doing this again tomorrow?”
Veritas lowers his gaze, his jaw tightening, as if wrestling with an internal debate. “Would that be unwelcome?”
The question hangs in the air, without its usual patronizing tone. It’s genuine, laced with a hint of something Aventurine thinks is uncertainty.
Aventurine flounders for a response. Truthfully, he doesn’t know how to answer that. “It’s…” he starts, then trails off, unsure of how to express the jumble of emotions churning within him. Curiosity? Apprehension? Something more?
“It’s fine, I guess.” Aventurine finally settles on an answer.
Veritas seems to consider this. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips, barely perceptible. “Then I will keep that in mind,” he says, finally. “Goodnight, Aventurine.”
Aventurine watches him go, the moon casting an ethereal glow on his retreating figure. It feels brighter than usual, or maybe it is just the way his heart is pounding in his chest. Everything feels surreal, charged with a newfound ambiguity that leaves him both bewildered and strangely hopeful.
-
Over the next few weeks, the nightly walks solidifies into a routine Aventurine finds himself anticipating. Veritas’ schedule becomes an easy rhythm to follow.
Most evenings, Veritas strolls in at 7pm, laptop and backpack in tow. He claims the far corner table by the window, fingers flying across the keyboard as he navigated through a sea of emails about who knows what.
Occasionally, Veritas will appear earlier, around mid-day. When the lull of a slow afternoon settles in, Aventurine will craft a free drink. A steaming lavender tea, brewed in a pristine cup, finding it’s way to his table.
During his breaks, Aventurine finds himself observing Veritas from afar. He isn’t sure why he does this; they aren’t strangers anymore. He can easily walk over and disrupt Veritas’ work on his laptop. But that will shatter the perfect picture Aventurine secretly longs to etch into his memory.
Sunlight spills through the cafe windows, bathing Veritas in a warm glow. It kisses the gentle slopes of his nose, the high planes of his cheeks, and dips down to the determined point of his chin. Framed by lush greenery, completing the portrait, he flips a page in his book, deep in concentration and unfazed by the murmur of conversation around him.
What a breathtaking sight it truly is.
Locking up shop after his shift, Aventurine finds Veritas waiting for him just outside. They fall into step as they walk home together. Reaching the familiar lamplight that marks their parting point, Aventurine offers a brief nod and continues on his way, his pace picking up as he nears his apartment building. Key in hand, he unlocks the door and steps inside.
Exhaustion washes over him as Aventurine surveys the state of his apartment. Dishes overflows the sink, a discarded jacket draped precariously over the armrest of the chair. The trash bin bulges at the seams, mirroring the state of his own neglected motivation. He hasn’t been taking care of his space as much as he should be, and he can’t seem to find the motivation to fix it all up. It’s way easier to ignore the mess and sleep in, just letting the hours eat away at his misery until the next day when he has to face it all again.
Aventurine drags his feet to his bedroom and then gets dressed in his pajamas. Despite the growling in his stomach, he dismisses the idea of making something to eat, too drained to even consider it. He makes the effort to brush his teeth though, which is the least he can do before going under the covers.
Sinking into the plush mattress, he counts the tiny bumps on the ceiling, then rubs his hands against his eyes and lets out a deep sigh.
There were some mornings when dragging himself out of bed feels impossible, even the most basic tasks a chore. Sometimes he questions if there’s a point of all of this. But then he remembers that as trivial as it seems to others, there is something can look forward to. A constant, never changing routine that holds immense value to him.
Nevertheless, there is something special about wrapping up the day walking home with Veritas, their conversation filling the silence with the most ordinary topics that somehow manages to improve his mood, even if just a little.
-
The late afternoon sun stretches shadows long and thin when Aventurine steps out of the cafe. With a comfortable silence settling between them, Aventurine falls into step beside Veritas, their usual route home laid out before them.
As they neared the intersection, his hand reaches out and presses the pedestrian crossing button. The red hand glows impatiently above them.
Veritas, sensing the deviation, quirks an eyebrow. “Not heading home yet?”
“Nah,” Aventurine says, his voice light, “there’s a place I’ve been wanting to visit today.” He keeps his gaze fixed across the street.
The wait at the intersection feels interminable. He half-expects Veritas to lose patience, break away for home, and server the fragile thread of their barely month-old friendship. If that’s what he can call it. They never made any arrangements to spend time with each other outside their regular scheduled walks together.
Finally, with a triumphant blink, the white pedestrian light flickers to life. Aventurine crosses the street. To his immense surprise, Veritas follows close behind, his presence a warm ember igniting in Aventurine’s chest.
The rumble of car engines fades behind them once they reach the other side. Walking further out into the countryside, all the buildings start to shrink in the distance, giving way to the fields of wildflowers bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun.
They walk down grassy slopes, the blades tickling their skin. Aventurine sinks onto a patch of green, mesmerized by the scene before him. Underneath the light, gold ripples the waters, shattering its surface into a dazzling display of color. A vibrant swirl of oranges, pinks, and purples bleeding into one another.
As blue slowly surrenders to the encroaching darkness, a peaceful silence settles between them again. The air grows cooler, rich in the scent of petrichor and shrubs. Fireflies flutter out from their hiding spots, sprouting their wings in a nightly ballet. Tiny pinpricks of light, sway and twirl in the gathering twilight.
Finally, Aventurine breaks the quiet, his voice soft against the gentle lapping of water. “Mind satisfying my curiosity?” he begins, gaze still fixed out in the distance. Why do you come to the cafe? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the company, especially the walks home. But… well we’re not exactly close, are we?”
Veritas turns to face him, a low hum escaping his lips, a sound that can be interpreted as agreement. His expression, though serious, holds less bite than usual. “Cultivating relationships is a fundamental human need. Solitude can break the heart, while companionship can mend it. Out of everyone, you should be the most aware of the advantages and disadvantages of choosing the latter option. I am only here to help if you’re willing to let me make a difference.”
Aventurine opens his mouth, then closes it. He isn’t sure how to respond to that. It’s the first time that anyone has taken the time out of their day to say this to him. Even though Veritas has a rather blunt way of saying it.
This… must be Veritas’ way of comforting him, isn’t it? He wonders if has been unsuccessful at concealing his emotional struggles. Aventurine prides himself on maintaining a cheerful mask, regardless of his internal state. He hasn’t shared his issues to anyone, and frankly, there isn’t anyone close enough to confide in even if he wanted to.
The thought of voicing his struggles feels too overwhelming. To confess his own self-loathing, to relive the raw grief of losing his entire family in that car crash months ago, to live with the guilt of being the sole survivor - it all feels utterly unbearable. All that he keeps tightly compartmentalized, a memory he’s unable to dislodge.
But that’s not what Veritas is asking. The real question, isn’t whether his actions were meant to be comforting. Instead, Veritas is prompting Aventurine to consider whether he is willing to trust another person. Does he want a confidant, someone who will be there for him through the good and bad experiences? Their relationship isn’t particularly close at the moment, but does Aventurine crave a deeper connection? Does he want to invest in this?
The opportunity is there. Veritas is essentially offering him a chance for a close relationship. The decision is Aventurine’s to make - to accept or decline it. And, to be honest, the idea isn’t entirely disagreeable to him.
He is lost in contemplation when Veritas’ voice cuts through the fog. “The evening is quite nice, isn’t it?”
Aventurine blinks rapidly, his eyes stinging as he wrestles back the threatening tears. It's then he realizes he's been quiet for so long. His hands tremble slightly, clutching into fists. Their eyes meet, and his voice catches in his throat at the softness crept around the edges of pure amber. Twilight bleeds away into ink. Yet, within that darkness, Veritas’ eyes glow with a brilliance that outshines the stars themselves.
At that moment, Aventurine feels the universe align with that of his beating heart. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “this is… nice.”