Chapter Text
A cool breeze brush Abigail’s cheeks. She could feel the cold sinking into her, past her skin and straight to her bones. Honestly? It was her fault. Today she had chose to wear her favorite work outfit, a pair of soft, black wide-legged slacks and a baggy button up her dad had handed down to her last Christmas. Great choice for comfort, terrible for the beginning chills of a cold October. Luckily, Abigail managed to snag a coat before braving the 7am hike to the bus stop. She clutched her work satchel closer to her chest, as if it would miraculously warm her in the early morning breeze. It did not.
A sigh escaped her as she gazed out towards the quiet suburbs before her. The bus shelter’s metal pole began to make her chill worse, so, Abigail reluctantly left the comfort of the slouch she’d adopted against it when she arrived at the bus stop 5 minutes prior. She was used to this quiet scene. She’d been pretty much plowing through the same routine for the past 4 years. Wake up at 6am- make sure there’s an alarm for 6:30 in the very likely chance that she ignores her first alarm- hurriedly throw together some semblance of business casual attire, attempt to grab some sort of food before she rushes out the door to take her 7am, 20 minute hike to the bus stop. All to end up in a cubicle staring at a screen from the unholy hours of 9am- 5pm.
Abigail wasn’t particularly against standing, but her gaze kept drifting to the seat behind her. It was still wet from the dew of the morning, covered in miscellaneous splotches of white and black. The seat looked weathered and old, though, she swore that 4 months ago it looked brand new.
BING
The sudden alert startled her right out of her internal rambling. Promptly, Abigail shifted her satchel forward to dig through her disgustingly disorganized mess of a bag for her phone. She was aware it should never get this bad and she tried her hardest to keep it organized but she honestly could not maintain the mess. After a swift 30 seconds of shifting aside charts, folders, pens, and other scattered oddities, she found her phone. She flipped up and unlocked it.
A message bubble from her friend Z glowed atop the dark Home Screen- her favorite picture from her urbex-ing adventures- which was a deeply shaded, mossy hallway with scattered beams of light peaking through the dusty, boarded-up windows of an abandoned office building she went solo exploring in a little more then a year ago. Z was confirming the plans their little group had made to go the Triangle after work.
Z-licious
Yo Abs we still go for the triangle at 7? I think I can grab you from your apartment at like 6:45 if you can make it back by then lol
Ab-bominable
For sure- I’ll make it back in time asshole I get off at five.
Z-licious
No hate for public transportation but I could not possibly choose the hour long ride over the 15 min drive
Ab-bominable
If I win the lottery you’ll be the first to know.
She chuckled and clicked off the device, this time shoving it in the side pocket of her satchel.
Another breeze went through her spine. Abigail futility tried to shield her face from the wind, but was faced with another shock when the bus shelter bench had gained an occupant without her noticing.
A guy with long shaggy hair now slouched awkwardly on the weather seat behind her, fiddling with the wire-headphones he was wearing like his mind was elsewhere. He looked around her age but dressed like a teenager. An old beat up Stokes t-shirt layered a soft purple long-sleeve crewneck and his pants had what looked like ironically unintentional holes in them. Abigail let herself briefly wonder about needles and sewing kits before snapping her head back forward. It was rude to stare, Abigail silently prayed he didn’t notice her mind wandering off in his direction.
The loud sound of a bus engine in the distance caught her attention and she shifted her weight to prepare to board it. Without further grandeur, the bus came to a stop in front of them, and Abigail made her way to the back. She always loved the corner seats in the very back.
The same guy from earlier followed, sitting at the other end of the bench- seemed they shared the same peculiarity.
Abigail focused her attention on her wrist where another one of her dad’s old items sat. Her watch read as 8:45 am, meaning it was really 7:48- she made a mental note to call her dad later and ask where to get it fixed.
Another sigh escaped her and she once again began the tedious task of digging through her bag. This time, she was searching for her breakfast- picked up last night in a rush at the grocery store. A clear cylindrical container of prepared pomegranate seeds was her chosen breakfast of the morning and she’d have it no other way. In fact, she loved them in the mornings- it was like her own healthy little pick-me-up.
Abigail went back to swimming in her own thoughts while her hands picked absentmindedly through her breakfast. She shoved a few of the sweet seeds in her mouth (holy fuck I really want pomegranate seeds now) and let her eyes follow the waking skyline of her city. Z was right about the commute time being ridiculous- the drive from her job to her apartment would only be 15 minutes long in her own vehicle, but it’s about an hour by bus- and missing the 7:50 bus would mean being excessively late. She knows. Abigail was never much of a morning person and that fact has cost her more than once.
“Eugh..”
Abigail was caught off guard by the sudden guffaw of disgust. She glanced to left to see the scruffy guy sticking out his tongue at her. Her brow quirked up in indignation- was he actually looking at her?
His eyes were barely visible underneath his shag. Jesus- this guy needed a hair cut- he had to have been walking around almost blind. He yanked at the cords attached to his ears until the right one fell out.
“There’s no way you enjoy that.” A statement rather than a question. Now call her socially avoidant- but Abigail was like 90% sure this was not how you strike up a conversation with a stranger. She could handle awkward small talk about the weather, politely cut short a conversation about someone’s day, or even make an awful attempt at introducing herself but this was new.
In a last stitch hope she allowed herself to slowly peel her eyes away and glance around her, maybe some other passenger was being loudly judged. To her misfortune, no one else chose to sit anywhere remotely near the back of the bus.
“Ah…I mean yea- I do, I guess- I’m sorry are you speaking to me?” She cautiously pointed a finger at herself to further emphasize her question.
Scruff boy’s head fell slightly to the side- a motion, she concluded, that was indicative of a sarcastic eye roll.
“I don’t seed anyone else eating gross juice seeds in the back of what’s usually a somewhat peaceful 7 am bus ride- do you?”
Juice seeds? What the hell was a juice seed… the pomegranate seeds?
She let her gaze slowly descend to the seeds again, her brain unable to fully process whatever the hell was going on around her- actually, no, happening to her.
“…have you ever actually like… had one… or is this like.. some fruit based vendetta I would need to have years worth of context to understand” a statement said with the inflection of someone who really didn’t care to know more then a quick yes or no answer- at least, she thought she did. Scruffy boy proved her wrong by sliding into the two seats beside her. Back half way to her and legs rested in the seat next that, scruffy boy gave her seeds another once-over.
“Nah- never have never will,” he stated with a shrug. She assumed he was only feigning nonchalance after his once-over almost caused him to double over with a shiver. No amount of shrugging would fool her.
Actually, wait a minute what the hell?
Abigail must have been worse-for-wear, all the late night internet surfing having caught up to her, if she was actually dealing with this. She tiredly registered a vague sense of amusement at the situation- she’d have normally run for the metaphorical hills at this point in any general interaction.
Another long descend and she was back looking at the peculiar red fruit. She could feel the strangers eyes follow her hand as she languidly reached for another pod. She gently let it roll around her finger tips then pushed her hand over to scruffy boy.
She didn’t exactly understand what she was doing, she just kinda did it.
And shockingly, she watched his hang open in her peripherals. Abigail dropped the seed followed by the quick sounds of her sucking her teeth.
“Y’know, for some reason… I’m not so convinced” she felt the beginnings of a smile pull at the corners of her mouth.
He mirrored her expression- with a tad more enthusiasm- and sighed.
“Guess I should’ve never said never huh?”
She shrugged as she watched him close his eyes and hurriedly throw the seed in his mouth. His cheeks moved side to side as he exaggerated chewing the fruit.
Then he took even longer to dramatically act out his taste test, rubbing his chin like he trying to figure out a complex math equation.
“There is no world where the taste of a seed should require this much time and effort to figure out” she let out a soft chuckle and an eye-roll at the strangers continued antics.
“Woah, there short-stuff- you can’t rush perfection” he huffed amusedly to the air in front of him.
“Ah of course, my mistake for trying to rush you, perfect” she gave him a laugh this time- a quiet one, reserved for early mornings, but one nonetheless. When she refocused to her left, she caught a glimpse of pink dusting scruffy boy’s face.
You know, now that she was really looking at him, he was kinda cute- in a raggedy kinda way. His purple sweater complimented the caramel of his skin nicely, and his face was quite nice too. His features were sharp, but his cheek bones were still on the softer side and his eyes… well- what she could see of them anyways- were a deep brown, like the color of dark oak. They even sparked- granted with mischief, but it was an amused, giddy sorta look, like he was waiting to tell these jokes all day. Obviously, he didn’t have to wait very long. Abigail fell right into his corny trap.
He snapped up-right and forward, with the enthusiasm of a man who came to an incredible conclusion. She caught his eyes land on her again before he closed them and smiled smugly.
“They’re actually…” he popped open one of his eyes to watch her watch him, “…as horrible as I expected- this craps gross!” His words were coated in fake excitement- but she could see a bit of his face light up as she broke out into silly giggles at the theatrics.
“Well I guess I can appreciate the attempt,” she sighed as the giggles resided. “Although, I still think they’re great”
She propped her elbow up on the window besides her and leaned into the cool glass, settling herself to face her local bus jester. She leaned into the hand holding up her tired head. In her morning sluggishness, she allowed herself to drag her eyes up and down the scruffy stranger- earning another blush from him, although this time he tried to run away from her. He snapped his neck forward so quick that a few bits of his hair hit him in the face- using it as an excuse to hide behind his hands.
Damn, he was tall. Even sitting she could tell he had at least a foot on her- not that she was particularly tall though, standing at a miraculous 5’3. His lanky figure slouched forward.
Scruffy boy tried to valiantly recover his composure with a quick cough and lopsided smile, which in turn made her chuckle. She watched behind laughter as his smile faltered briefly-promptly joining in her amusement. Soon, the two passengers in the back of the 7am city bus were nothing more than stifled laughter in stale, quiet air.
This was quite new, but not in the same skin crawling discomfort she’s cursed with in public social situations, this felt… different. She wasn’t completely without her reserves or anxiety, but she felt lighter than she did minutes ago.
The laughter died out with the rising sun along the skyline, bits of light peeking through the windows and into the bus as it trudged along the city roads.
“So…,” scruffy boy rubbed his neck with the awkwardness she had seen earlier in the day, “do you have a name? Or should I keep calling you short-stack?” A tentative question, but a familiar one.
Wait… short-stack? Good lord she must be more tired than she realized.
Abigail scoffed at the teasing nickname- where was all the confidence coming from?
“Maybe, but I’d like to know yours first” a small smirk played at her lips.
“Tsk tsk tsk, don’t cha know it’s rude to respond to a question with another question? I asked first there pipsqueak.” He leaned in a bit closer with a shit-eating grin and she leaned back a bit further, but kept her own smile.
She allowed her head to tilt to the side, “I asked better Casanova.” That earned her quite the reaction- the boy quickly retreated the space he occupied and allowed himself no time to recover. A competitive smirk grew as he wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand, looking everywhere but at her.
“Nuh-uh, not how that works.” A challenge.
“And who decided that?” An invitation.
“Who cares as long as it exists?” An acceptance.
“Guess you’ll be stuck not knowing my name then scruffy boy” she quipped in return.
His mouth parted to challenge her- but choked after a few seconds of trying. A defeat.
“Fine shortstack… my names Lee..roy, Leeroy.” His smile no longer reached his eyes like it did seconds before.
“Hm, nice to me you Lee,” momentary shock graced his features- followed by a return of the previous smile that warned her up in more ways than one.
“My name’s Abigail.”