Chapter Text
Harlequin smiled and bowed as he offered flyer after flyer for those wandering the street at the early hours of the morn. Did he want to be here? No, who would. But Pierrot was busy with his little darling so he was stuck here doing his shift of flyer-handing until he snapped out of it, or Jester forced him to. He’d tried to have his fun but that was proving to fail from them looking at him in fear when he pinned them to his tent walls to them ignoring his advances when he offered to make their heart race, venturing for that whelp of a clown. He was growing tired. It…surprised him. Surely he wouldn’t be getting bored this easily, no? This is Pierrot we’re talking about, he wouldn’t get bored of that game with him.
He shook his head, and offered another flyer to a man. That was a mistake…
Flyers scattered everywhere as Harlequin’s back met the wall of the crumbling store, having swears and slurs screamed at him— gods, was this guy drunk? At 9am? Pathetic.
“Who do you think you are-” He hiccuped right in his face, breath condensing on Harlequin’s mask. “Tryna sell me a scam, you pretentious-” such big words for a drunk “freakish asshole!” He threw the clown against the wall clumsily before shoving him down, gloved palms catching himself before he fell face first. Harlequin didn’t have the energy for this, if he did this guy might be dead. So stay silent. Maybe he could even pick up a little darling of his own if he looked miserable enough. What was the face Pierrot sported during these again?
Yeah, that was a bust.
In the end, no one stopped to assist him, letting the man yell and cuss him out until he got bored and staggered off. Never again, fuck he was surprised he did it at all! Maybe he truly was growing bored. Not his fault, blame the little dear for being so unreactive. His cheek and palms stung now, and he had a wreath of flyers around him like a circle of shame. With a hiss, he began to pick them up, scrapping his palm against the gravel of the sidewalk in his haste. As he reached around him, he nearly touched a knee. Huh? Oh great, someone else to make fun of him. Looking up, he saw…you.
A kind face, smiling awkwardly yet tenderly as you collected flyer after flyer to contain in your lap. “You dropped these.” You handed them to him, and your fingers brushed the sides of his. He swore he could feel the warm from the tips through the fabric of his gloves. “And you okay?”
“...my my, what a saint you are.” He smirked, trying to hide the wave of flush attempting to overtake his mask. “Tell me, what deity did I please to be blessed with your aid?” You tilted your head, with a weak chuckle. “Just helping. And you didn’t answer my question.” Leaning back to rest on your knees again, you watched his face in wait. He watched you back, unsure what to do. “I’m fine, dear one. No need to worry your pretty little head about little old me.” You sighed at his dismissal, rising to your feet and extending a hand. “At least let me help you up.”
He took the hand, only because he had to. It felt small in his palm.
Pulling him up, you noticed his height. Not as tall as Pierrot, but still taller than you. Oh! Digging through your pockets, you found a little blue bandaid with a small star on it. “Here, put that on the mark. Should heal it.” You pressed it into his palm and closed his fingers around it, rushing off before he could offer it back or protest. Reminded you of how your friend met Pierrot, fitting how they were from the same circus. You’d seen (and often heard) Harlequin before, but you doubt he’d seen you. How could he, you just bathe in your friend’s shadow.
…He stared at the bandage…
Why was his heart jumping? This wasn’t even the right dear one, and yet…he wanted to know more about you rather than the other. He’d seen you, there. Reminded him of himself oddly enough. And yet here you were, taking over the show as tonight’s main attraction. Alright. Let the show begin.
You had arrived at the cafe, tying the apron around your waist. Your friend had the day off today, and with Carol gone, it was up to you to keep the cafe in check. Should be a slow day today, and hopefully no clown visitors since your friend wouldn't be here. To be honest, you only helped the other since you felt bad and thought you might as well assist them, seeing as your friend did. That did land them a tall, red boyfriend but hopefully that wouldn't be the case for you.
The door rung open, and peeking at it you saw...Harlequin?
"Ah, dear one! Did you really think you could just run off after being so helpful? I can't let you slip away now, could I?" He moved to lean against the counter, plaster adorning his cheek. "It wounds me to see my saviour flee so suddenly, y'know?" Giving a little tilt of his head, the bells jingling alongside it, he almost looked cute. Almost. "Sorry, I had to get to work. Can I get you anything?" You knew he ordered an Iced Coffee last he visited, but you weren't one to assume. He shrugged teasingly. "Surprise me."
...Alright then
Turning around, you swiftly got to work. You'd make him something surprising, alright.
And all the meanwhile, he watched from his position at the counter, chin on his hands and eyes following the curve of your movements as you worked efficiently. Cute. "You having fun there, dear one?" He cocked his head to the other side, bells tinkling once more. You remained silent, concentrating. He clicked his tongue, eyes cast aside. Alright then, ignore him. When you finished, you held out a...mess of pink, brown and— oh god, was that green? "What is that?!" He nearly recoiled.
"A drink! Mint, strawberry and coffee. Dunno why it mixed like that but it should taste good. C'mon, try it. It's on me if you don't like it." You smiled, and you meant it. Your words, and maybe the smile. That was mostly because you were giddy to see if your flavour combo actually tasted good, you were too chicken to try it yourself. Harlequin stared at it before grabbing it with a hesitant hand, claws clutching it. "...If I die?"
"I'll give you five bucks."
He stirred it by swirling the glass before chugging half of it. Taste wise, it wasn't bad. Fresh and cold, even. But his brain, dear lord... "It's still a milkshake, why would you chug it dumbass!" You laughed, hunting over as you held your stomach and watching him stumble back. His hands hit his forehead. "Fuuuuck.." He hissed, biting his tongue. "D-Did it taste nice, at least?" You asked through laughter.
"..I-I guess.." Harlequin admitted, clearing his throat as the brain freeze slowly bled away. Despite the headache he had, seeing you laugh like that...it gave him butterflies.
That's not good.