Chapter Text
Cappuccino
19 October
It was about 3.45p.m. when the doorbell to Cappuccino’s office rang.
He wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour, after all, he was working on an especially tough case that day. Plus, he promised Almond that he’d be home early for family dinner today. He couldn’t risk working overtime again, just because of one distraction.
Double checking if he’d missed something, Cappuccino took a peep at his phone, sure enough, there were no calls or messages.
He figured that it wasn’t anyone important — maybe a paperboy or even just a salesman. Not wanting to get up, he shouted that he was busy.
But the doorbell rang again.
“I said I'm busy..!”
And again — this time with some knocking.
Exasperated, Cappuccino walked towards the door, supposing he should whoever was at the other side a good talking too. He flung open the door, but just as he was about to speak, his words got caught in his mouth by the sight.
Something, no someone, was there.
A boy, adorning a red suit, green tie, with a matching pair of spectacles. An adolescent face framed with neatly combed blonde hair, a face he knew all too well.
That attorney.
Langue looked all off, his typical air of confidence and professionalism was gone, replaced by something that frankly, felt nothing like the aspiring attorney Cappuccino first met in court. Langue, usually upright and full of pride, now stood hunched over, eyes sullen and empty, his serious expression now looked melancholic, and his eyes, brimmed with tears, never quite met Cappuccino’s.
Something was very wrong.
He didn’t really know where to start, just inviting the other in with a welcoming gesture, a simple “come in”, before closing the door behind them.
Inside, things didn’t get better. Langue just sat at the other side of the desk, fidgeting with his fingers.
”Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?” Cappuccino offered, walking towards the cabinet that held all his beverages — but mostly coffee. The attorney sat unmoving. He opened his mouth up to speak, only to close it again without uttering a word.
”I’ll just get you some tea, hope you don't mind.” With that, the prosecutor brought over a freshly brewed cup of chamomile, plopping it down in front of Langue, who didn’t seem all too there at the moment. The prosecutor gave the other a pat on the back, which appeared to make the other visibly wince at the contact, but paid no heed to.
Cappuccino sat back down in his chair, sneaking glances at the blonde every now and then. He noticed the way that Langue seemed to stare at the multitude of cups lining the desk, as if wanting to nag him, usually something about how he’s probably going to overdose on caffeine one day and how it isn’t healthy, especially with how old he was, or maybe something along those lines.
*******
“Cino, you know, you should really stop drinking that stuff at the rate you are now. There’s only so much one can take. It’s not good for you.” The attorney stated, clicking the pen in his hand.
The elder laughed, waving a hand at the other.
“It's the only thing keeping me awake, Chat. You should stop worrying bout’ me so much, I’m a veteran with this!” He rebutted, matter of factly.
”Just saying, caffeine overdose is more common than you think….”
*******
Not this time.
Langue lay silent in the chair — just kind of staring at nothing in particular. He looked to have calmed down a bit, occasionally shifting in his seat.
“You wanna tell me what happpened…? It won’t hurt to be good and honest with me, y’know?” Cappuccino began, prompting the other to speak his mind. Something was bothering him, he knew. Langue wasn’t the type to come across like this.
“Success requires perfection in attitude and appearance”, he’d used to say.
The question made Langue flinch.
The attorney now sat up straight, directly facing Cappuccino, fingers now tapping the edge of the desk. What followed caught the prosecutor aback. It was unlike the other’s usually loud, demanding inflection — something that could command the whole room if it wanted.
A soft, almost broken voice.
”…I-I don’t…want to talk about it right now.”
“That’s fine, take it at your own pace, don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable,” Cappuccino reassured, softly smiling, “Make yourself at home, ‘Kay?
Langue slowly nodded, if only just understanding the words. He leaned back in the chair, a soft sigh escaping his mouth as he closed his eyes. Only to open them seconds later, gazing at the files littering the desk.
The silence hung in the room like a heavy blanket. A place that used to be filled with the heated debates of the two lawyers now felt like a deafening stillness, words unspoken, thoughts unexchanged, feelings bottled up.
Still, a strange sense of solace lingered.
Maybe it was the afternoons they shared, discussing trials. That’d always made work more bearable. The soft chuckles of the two whenever they exchanged jokes, the complaints about work. Maybe now, Cappuccino was just glad to have company around.